But, I'd be lying if I said I never judged someone else's parenting skills.
I have hissed to my husband when I've seen a bare-headed newborn in the Florida heat, "Someone should put a hat on that baby." When I opened the daycare refrigerator to put in The Boy's milk and lunch leftovers, I saw an adult-sized macaroni-and-cheese dinner and hoped that was two days' worth of lunches for some little girl. At restaurants, I am simultaneously appalled at the carefree moms who don't pick up the mess their little darlings leave on the floor and amused with the germaphobic parents who won't let their kid have a pacifier after it hits the table. I cringed yesterday when I realized I was married to someone who took our child to the grocery store with dirty, bare feet and a snotty nose.
I have been the parent of a hat-less, barefooted, be-snotted baby eating a quadruple helping of macaroni and cheese and smashing half of it into the carpet, but these thoughts still flit through my head. The Karmic punishment (eg: forgetting a coat and being the parent with a blue-lipped toddler at the fair) makes up for my involuntary, internal judging, I figure. I'm not yelling at these these parents, "Hey, you're doing it wrong!" And somehow, these reflexive internal comments about small things like bare baby heads seem OK to me as long as I'm offering the mother with the screaming kid at the mall a sympathetic glance and help with the door. Mostly, as I've said confessed before, I think every parent finds what works for them. We all judge a bit.
Be honest: What parenting do you judge? What things to do you tsk-tsk?