An open letter to my judgmental mum living next door.

Dear Judgemental Mom,

Just stop already.

Stop telling me how to raise my child.

Stop telling me how to feed my child.

Stop telling what to feed my child.

Stop questioning my parenting choices.

Stop comparing my kid to yours.

Stop scrunching up your nose at my parenting methods.

I feed my child white sugar, you feed yours honey. It doesn’t mean your child will grow up healthier or smarter than mine.

Your child weighs twice of what my child weighs at the same age. It doesn’t mean your child is healthier or grows better. You might want to watch that though; he might just be obese.

Your child can recite the encyclopedia off hand while my kid is still learning his nursery rhymes. All the best. They will meet at the Nigerian law school exams; I’m betting on my kid.

Your kid is happy to cuddle up with you 24/7, and falls asleep to bedtime stories. Congratulations. Mine however is friendly with strangers and has an in-explainable energy level. He will not fall asleep until you confine him to his bed and put out the lights.

I let my kid roll on the grass and play rough outdoor. You hole up your kid in his tiny bedroom. Do not even dare try to insinuate that I am a bad mother. I am not judging your choices (even if I do not agree with them). So, why judge me?

So, just stop already. Raise your child and I’ll raise mine. 5+5=10, so is 6+4 and 8+2, even 9+1. As long as we all raise physically, emotionally, spiritually and intellectually sound kids, the world is a better place.

Yours sincerely,

The Mom next door,

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