i'm his mommy, thanks.

Senior citizens of the nation, you've been lied to. Your social security is not dwindling away because you are having to pay for my child's pediatrician visits. No, we are taking care of that all by ourselves. So you really don't have a vested interest, and therefore no say, in how I care for him. If you see me treating him in a manner that you think is unacceptable, call the proper authorities. If the trained professionals deem my mothering skills unacceptable, they have the power and the resources to solve the problem. You don't.

I took Little Guy out for a walk this afternoon since it's supposed to be the last beautiful day for a while. The sun was shining. The wind was merely a breeze. Not a snowflake to be seen. He was adorable in his little green Roo (of Kanga & Roo fame) fleece coat and pants. He had socks on. And a hood. I even took the time to wrap his blanket around him once I got him strapped into his stroller. See for yourself:

We were strolling along, enjoying the chance to get out of the house, checking out the brickwork or whatever the heck it is he stares at when he's in the stroller. Just taking in the day, just taking a walk. Coming towards us a little ways down the sidewalk was a grandfatherly-looking gentleman walking his little lap dog. I'm thinking, "What a cute dog. Won't it be fun when Little Guy is big enough to take joy in all of God's creatures?" (Okay, so it was probably something more along the lines of "If we get Little Guy a dog, it better be bigger than that!") Little Guy was gnawing on his hand. Grandfather and lap dog approach. We smile cordially at each other. He says "Don't you think his hands are cold?" From 6 feet away, without so much as a "cootchie-coo" or a cluck on the chin, he has determined that my son's fingers are going to momentarily fall off due to severe frostbite. I stammered something, adding to his already fully formed opinion that I was a bad mother for taking my child out into such dreadful, near blizzard weather in little more than his birthday suit. He nodded, clucking his tongue disdainfully, and continued on his way. We continued on ours as well, walk ruined. Jackass.



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