The Internet Demands an Apology. To You.

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Dear Buddy,

I feel like I owe you an apology.

Other moms that I have interacted with on the internet have expressed that I may have made one or many wrong decisions, basically from the moment you were conceived. For these decisions, I owe you an apology.

From the beginning, I apologize that I got an epidural during your birth. Though I didn’t really want one, I was weak and caved. Not because of the pain, mind you, but that’s a story for another day. Regardless, I apologize for any medication that may have crossed the placenta. I didn’t mean to get you high.

I apologize for your circumcision. Daddy and I disagreed on this decision and I let him have the final say. The ladies on the internet think I shouldn’t have backed down. I’ll have to apologize to your dad later for being a weak woman. Or maybe, just make him dinner and acknowledge his superiority. Either way, I’m sorry I ruined your penis.

I apologize for not successfully breastfeeding you. Nursing was a disaster and I tried to get you the "liquid gold" but it seems that the combination of your sensitive tummy and my stress were antithetical to the situation. I’m sorry that you were deprived of bonding and vital nutrients and I hope by the time you read this, you aren’t fat and stupid.

I apologize for letting you "cry it out" to sleep on occasion. You weren’t/aren’t exactly what I would call a "sleeper" and I did reach the end of my rope a few times. This method failed anyway so any neglect or possible long term psychological damage was avoided. I hope, by the time you read this, you won’t be sleeping with Daddy and me anymore. Funny how I failed at doing the "wrong" thing on this one anyway. So, I’m sorry for not being able to follow through on the method as well.

I apologize for having to work for the first 14 months of your life. Though we loved the daycare girls (and you did too), according to the mommies on the internet, I shouldn’t have had you if I was going to let someone else raise you. Now, I stay at home with you so hopefully, you have realized that I am your mother. I’m fairly certain you have.

I’m sorry you started watching Sesame Street at the age of 17 months. Coincidence or not, your vocabulary exploded the past few weeks. But, TV is bad. Very bad. I vow to make sure that you are active and eat healthy, because again, I hope you don’t end up fat and stupid. I’d feel terrible.

I’m sorry for being hyperaware of every decision I make for you. I’m sorry I spend too much time worrying about what strangers on the internet think of my parenting.  I’m sorry I’ve done everything "wrong."

I hope you know that for all the "mistakes" I’ve made, you are still perfect.

And happy.

And smart.

And I love you so much.

No matter what those mean ladies on the internet say I did wrong, there is NOTHING wrong with you.

Love,
Your Mama

PS – Get off your computer. Go get some fresh air. Read a book.

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