A few weeks ago

...someone I know moderately well, but is by no means on the inside of my life, made some very hurtful comments about how I parent Johan, the life we have, and about Johan in general. I have always kind of thought that I only get offended by comments if there is some truth to them.

For example, I can be passive aggressive sometimes. So if I were to get called out on that, I would probably take offense. And I can be mercurial. I am sensitive when that is pointed out to me.

But this stuff? Of course I am not a perfect mom. And Johan is not a perfect kid. Our family is not perfect either. But we are pretty solid. Johan is a bright, vibrant, spirited, kind kid. He can also be mercurial. He comes by that honestly. But I try hard to make sure he is not spoiled or coddled. I try to teach him to be polite and respectful and to treat others the way he would like to be treated. He does a good job with these things a lot of the time. But he's also three. And if he's overtired or overexcited, sometimes he whines or acts out. He's not allowed to "get away" with that kind of behavior and I discipline him for it, although not in front of other people. I usually take him out of the room and discuss inappropriate behavior privately with him. Public humiliation and shame are not part of my discipline routine.

I've thought a lot about the comments this person made. I've wondered if I'm sensitive about it because I worry she's right. I've thought, maybe she thinks I'm not disciplining him since I don't do it in front of her. I've now settled into some comforting conclusions. 1) She's wrong. 2) She doesn't know Johan, me, or our life. 3) It's none of her business. 4) Her opinion of our life affects us in no way whatsoever. And 5) I've been angry not because her comments are true, but because I am not used to be people being bluntly unkind.

When I think about the good people in Johan's and my life, I feel overwhelmed with gratitude and fortune. Our universe of family and friends, both blood-related and not, are not just folks who pat us on the back and say "good job." They challenge us to be the best we can. They call me out when I've got a head full of crazy. They do so, however, in supportive ways. They are not mean.

I'm not really sure of the thesis of this, but I can tell you that I no longer think that I am only sensitive to criticism I fear is true. Sometimes cruel words, even if entirely untrue, can seep in and get to you. Their sting is hard to forget.

But, I get daily reminders from Johan that he is a wonderful kid with a mom who, while imperfect, is doing the best she can. When he offers to share his treat with a littler kid and then "read" her a story; when he wants to help clear the table; when he cuddles up to me in the early morning when I'm still half-asleep and kisses my cheeks, I know that we are doing just fine.