So, you know how Bridgette and I have this whole NJZ (No Judgment Zone) thing going on? Basically, we can tell each other our parenting successes and failures without the other one judging. Mostly, they’re just funny or clueless “new mom” type of stories. Well, I have a big, fat, huge NJZ of my own that I knew I needed to blog about!

So, my family (Husband, Step Son Z, Baby Vinny, and myself) met up with our friends so their son and Z could play at SkyZone. The Daddies and the older boys jumped at SkyZone while my friend and I (with Vincent) went to Outback to have drinks/appetizers until the boys would join us for dinner. We were just chatting and playing with the baby and doing friend things, when I noticed he needed to be changed and eat. So, I took him into the bathroom to change him.

When I walked into the largest stall with the baby changing table, I immediately judged the last mom who had been in there. Toilet paper was everywhere, and there was a dirty diaper on the floor of the stall. Totally gross. And someone else was going to have to clean that up. Yuck.

I judged. I didn’t take my own NJZ advice, and totally judged another mom. Not ok, Ryann. Not ok.

As I was walking back to the table, I thought about it and said, you know, maybe that woman’s kids were just being awful and she had to get out of there quickly, and simply forgot that she threw the diaper on the floor. It looked like a bigger diaper, so her child could’ve been walking and just really wasn’t going to stand still for her to do anything. She could’ve gotten an emergency phone call. But I immediately judged, and I didn’t like that.

Well, karma wasn’t slow to strike me. Vincent starts crabbing because he’s hungry, and I go to make him a bottle, only to realize I’ve forgotten to put the Similac back in the diaper bag. Well, crap.

Baby was NOT happy!
Baby was NOT happy!

And by this time, he is screaming his head off, crying like he’s never eaten before in his life. Thankfully, the restaurant wasn’t too far from a Walmart…maybe a .25-.5 mile away. I grab screaming Vincent (and my friend’s purse because of course I also don’t have my wallet or any money with me) and start walking to Walmart. The baby’s crying, I’m walking as fast as I can in my flip flops, we’re both sweating. I got the Similac and got back to Outback relatively unscathed, but boy did I feel like I was getting some judging glares from people in the store and walking around the shopping center. Some sympathetic faces, but lots of judgy ones.

Vincent got fed. The rest of dinner went well. The moral of the story – judge not, and you yourself will not be judged.

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