13 Rules for Not Telling Me How to Raise My Kids

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Seems like lately there are a lot of articles floating around the internet that are filled with “rules” for how we should or shouldn’t be raising our children —  a lot of insufferable people giving out unwanted advice to unwilling recipients. I don’t know about you, but I’m sick to death of being told what I need to do with my own kids from people who know nothing about my kids (and maybe about their own, either). So today I decided to switch it up and give those people a few rules of their own to follow, since Facebook has yet to activate the highly-desired “dislike” button for their undesirable posts.

1. Don’t worry about my child’s temperature. Isn’t he cold, you ask? Did he SAY that he was cold? Does he appear to be shivering? Blue lips? Early signs of hyperthermia? None of the above? Then I’m not worried and you shouldn’t be, either.

2. Don’t tell me how to discipline my child. Oh, you think threatening to whack your kid with the metal side of your belt is an adequate method of punishment? Your child’s future therapist will likely disagree, but that’s none of my business. Consequently, my fondness for the time-out method is none of yours. Let’s agree to disagree and move on.

3. Don’t you DARE utter the phrase “that would NEVER happen if it were my kid….” Because it’s NOT your kid. And that’s the bottom line.

4. Don’t play pediatrician. Believe it or not, my kids have one already. One with an actual medical degree. No, not a Google University degree like yours. A real one. That’s why his opinion will always matter more than yours.

5. Don’t tell me what to feed my kids. Nobody cares that you had to take out a second mortgage on your home to fund your child’s organic-only, soy-free, gluten-free, vegan-friendly, GMO-free, vomit-inducing diet. If you see my kid eating a bag of Doritos, mind your damn business.

6. Don’t tell me how much TV my kids should be watching. It’s not exactly breaking news that watching too much SpongeBob isn’t raising any IQ points. No need to state the obvious.

7. If you have no children of your own, then don’t. Just don’t. Seriously, don’t even open your fat mouth.

8. Don’t tell me what I should be offended by or tired of hearing from other people. So you have seven sons and get miffed every time someone has the gall to say “boys will be boys”? Well guess what? Boys WILL be boys. Insane, rough, energetic, loud, raucous little boys. Chances are people are just saying that to be polite, anyway. Because “your kids are a bunch of psychotic hooligans” doesn’t usually go over as well as intended.

9. Don’t judge my decision to work or to stay at home. People need about four incomes to afford child care and a home these days. Going to work isn’t an option for everyone. Staying home with the kids is not an option for everyone (it’s also not the paradise some imagine it to be, either). That’s why this is one of the most difficult decisions a woman (or man) will ever make. So tread VERY lightly if you want to share your opinion about it. Better yet, just keep that opinion to yourself.

10. Always. Think. Before. You. Speak. And when in doubt? Take some advice from my girl, Gwen Stefani. Don’t speak.

11. Don’t tell me how many gifts Santa should bring my kids, or how many dollars the Tooth Fairy should leave under their pillow, or how much candy should be in their buckets on Halloween. When it comes to children, I AM Santa. Not you. If I want to spoil them rotten or leave them nothing at all, that’s my decision and I will gladly deal with the repercussions without any input from you.

12. Keep your religious beliefs to yourself. Trust me, you’re not “saving” anyone. So save it.

13. Don’t expect me to abide by your narrow definition of politically correct. I shouldn’t be made to feel as though I’m perpetuating gender stereotypes every time I buy my daughter a Barbie doll, a pretend make-up kit, or a sparkly princess dress. If it’s going to put a smile on her beautiful little face, I’m going to buy it. While we’re on the subject, however, please note that if my son were to also ask for a princess dress, then I’d happily oblige. I love my children and want them to be happy, regardless of their favorite color or dress-up item. It isn’t about politics; it’s about the smiles on their faces.