The woman waited in line behind the young mother who was dealing with her two very busy little girls. She inquired after them sweetly.  After a brief conversation, she lobbed her grenade.

‘Super Mom’ said, “You’ve ruined their lives.” ‘Young Mother’ was shocked.

This comment bothered ‘Young Mother” very much, because, truth be told, she is a very involved mother. She and her girls are always doing something. Educational, arts and crafts, just plain old fun, she’s a busy mom to her busy girls. She also writes about them in the paper.

I admire her. She’s come a long way from the very first time that I met her. She had just started back to work, and she was nervous and fumbling. I liked her sense of humor right away. The past couple years, I’ve watched her grow. She has the glow of a fulfilled woman.

I’m not going to sugar coat anything. I’m sure ‘Young Mother’ is not always like that. She’s a single parent, and that’s a tough, tough gig. She has sole responsibility for raising two little girls, holding down a full time job, and keeping up with the work that goes along with all of that. Laundry doesn’t do itself. Neither do dishes. There are meals to be cooked and toys to be put away, and in the middle of all of this, there are two little girls doing battle with each other and with their mother. I am sure that she has her bad days.

But let’s be real. All parents have those bad days, whether they are doing it on their own, or with a partner. Every parent falls short. Every parent says words they wish they could snatch back. Every parent loses patience. There is not a parent alive who has not wished for a ‘do-over’, another chance to do things the right way.

Do you see where I am going here? There is no such thing as a perfect parent. Even ‘Super Mom’ in the check out aisle has her own less-than-perfect moments with her children.

So why do women do that to each other?  “You’re ruining their lives.” Why does one mother say such a horrible thing to another mother? “Super Mom” does not have a crystal ball. She cannot see into the future. She does not have the slightest idea whether these two children are being ruined for life.

Every parent-child relationship is unique because no two children are the same. No two mothers are the same. While Young Mother may be doing things differently than Super Mom, she loves those girls with all her heart. It is reciprocated.

They are well dressed and they are clean. They are loved and they are sheltered. They do not worry about where their next meal comes from. The little house that they live in has been the only home that they’ve ever known. They have loving and supportive grandparents who take delight at being involved in their lives.

From where I stand, it looks as if those little girls have quite a blessed life. It may not be perfect, but it is rich and full. Their mother might write about them in the newspaper. She might discuss her struggles honestly, but in the end, I’d like to think that the self same honesty that we see in her writing will be a keystone in her relationship with her children. I think that honesty is good.

I’d also like to think that there are other young mothers out there. Maybe single, maybe not. But they are struggling too. Maybe they read Stacey’s stories and they identify with them too. Maybe they laugh for a moment. Maybe they return to their daily struggles with a lighter heart. Maybe they learn something that can be applied to their own situation.

In the end, it comes down to this: No matter what a parent does or doesn’t do, there will be someone convinced that they are doing it wrong.

I remember once going to a store. Cara was just a baby. Dylan was four. We had just dropped Brianna off at school. Dylan caught sight of something that he wanted and he began to wheedle. I said no, firmly, and continued on for what I came for. Much to my surprise, Dylan began to pester louder.

I had a very strict zero tolerance for store tantrums. When they started, we left. Immediately. I have taken shopping carts to the service window and said, “I’m sorry, I need to go.” That move was usually met with criticism. Sorry store people. The message that I was trying to get through to my children was that if you throw a tantrum in public, it will get you nothing but a quick ride home. Quite honestly, it generally only took one event for the kids to realize that I meant business.

I looked at Dylan and said firmly, “You will stop it this minute, or we will leave the store.” He did not stop. I picked up his baby sister, my purse and the diaper bag and said, “Come on. We’re going.” Dylan’s lip jutted dangerously and he said, “NO!” I took his hand with my one free hand and we headed for the door. Dylan began to throw a full blown tantrum, jerking and struggling to get loose of my hand. He succeeded. With a mighty jerk, he pulled free. The momentum of that mighty jerk sent him sailing across the freshly waxed floor and sliding under a rack of women’s clothing.

I stood there shocked. Two elderly ladies walking by were very vocal. They had seen me throw that boy across the aisle. I looked at their disapproval and it struck me so funny that I burst out laughing. “Dylan,” I giggled, “come on, we’re leaving the store.” Dead silence. I knew my boy and he had an absolute horror of being embarrassed in front of people. He was under that rack and embarrassed to come out. I stood there with his baby sister in my arms, saddled down like a pack mule, and waited. “Dylan,” I said, “You might as well come out. I can stand right here as long as you can stay right there.”

In the end, a little boy crawled out. There were two very vocal little old ladies watching and complaining. There was one mother laughing like a loon. He started crying, and without another word we went to the car. Once everyone got buckled in, I sat there for a minute. “That was embarrassing, wasn’t it?” And Dylan agreed that it was. We had a short discussion on how we behave in public. I promised him that every single time that he threw a tantrum in public, we’d be going home.

He never threw another temper tantrum in public. Ever.

The mommy wars are real. There will always be critics. You’ll be too strict, you’ll be too lenient. You’ll be criticized on what they eat, or what they don’t eat. What they watch on television, or even that they watch television at all. Their behavior (no matter what behavior it is) will be judged as evidence of your poor parenting. You will be criticized for being too patient and for your impatience. The list goes on and on. Some women do seem to enjoy tearing each other down.

Stacey, you know your little girls better than ‘Super Mom’ does. Every mother does. You do what works for you and your children.

And Super Mom? What you did in that checkout line has a name. It is called bullying. And any kid in elementary school will tell you that bullying is wrong. Perhaps it is time for you to take a time out and think about your words.