I totally understand how generations differ. We grew up in different times, I get it. It freaks me out when the beans try to swipe the TV or demand that I put “princess Tangled” on RIGHT NOW! They’ll never know what it was like to have four channels, to rewind a video or fiddle with the aerial when the screen goes snowy. But I’m not going to blame them for that, or judge the way they live as a result of it. Well…I hope I don’t.

On Monday when I was changing after *cough* swimming 40 lengths in 30 minutes *cough* I was in the middle of a conversation between two women. I’d say they were around 65. They were going to town on how disgusted they were at mothers and women these days – no mention of dads what so ever FYI.

Apparently they were outraged at the amount of mums you see with ready meals in their shopping baskets. They were questioning what had happened to home cooking and why women were so overweight nowadays.

They went on to talk about their granddaughters. One had just cooked her grandparents lunch, well I say cooked, apparently stuffed tomatoes “isn’t cooking!” Harsh. My Nan was always keen to eat my lumpy porridge and I drink the tea the beans make me. In fact, I’m a big fan of the mustard and raspberry pie they frequently bring me from their kitchen. I do as I’m told and “eat up”.

Obviously I didn’t join in their conversation – I am actually too polite to do that – but I was pretty mad. Maybe that mum with the ready meal in her basket has been at work for six days straight and hasn’t had time to cook, maybe she figures an Ella’s Kitchen is at least better than chicken nuggets, maybe her child hasn’t eaten in three days and now she’s at breaking point…maybe it’s none of your fucking business…or maybe (now hold your breath) the dad can fucking cook!!!

Why do we judge each other? Why do we criticise each others choices? What do we get from it? Does it make us feel better? I know I judge people, I mean I don’t understand video gaming with a headset on, listening to talk sport or wearing lip liner that is clearly three shades darker than the lipstick, but fuck it you know? Each to their own. Just because I don’t get it, I’m not gonna make you feel shit for doing it.

Motherhood seems to be a free pass. Everyone thinks they can comment: “Should you be letting them nap at 5pm?” “Oh just let them have the chocolate.” “That’s a bit harsh isn’t it, listen to her crying.” Being a parent is hard a lot of the time, it’s also joyful and full of love, but we’re all just doing our best, so back the fuck off bitch.