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"The person who judged me the most last week."

Eight times I was judged last weekend – and look who it was by.

I know this mother who really messed up last weekend. Total parenting fail.

You should have seen the way she let her kids carry on!

You’d never do it yourself.

Except the thing is – it WAS yourself.

We all hear about how judgmental mothers are these days – with social media and Facebook fuelling the Mummy Wars but what I have come to realise is that the worst culprit is our very own self critic.

Last weekend Judgey McJugey came right out and sat squarely along side me pointing out each and every little thing I did wrong.

You shouldn’t have given them that, you shouldn’t have spoken that way. Is that good enough?

Over and over I questioned my parenting.

Looking back, half the fails I focused upon probably weren’t even noticed by those around me.

Is it possible that the biggest judgers of mums are actually just ourselves?

1. The knicker-less three-year-old.

Yes, I probably should carry a spare pair of undies for my daughter but life’s busy, and she’s kid number three. It was hard enough to remember cricket bats and water bottles for my two boys on Saturday morning.

I was desperately trying to watch my seven-year-old bat while my little girl played in the playground nearby.

She was having too much fun, I was turned the other way, and the leg jiggling wasn’t noticed.

I’m sorry to confess she had to run knickerless for an hour or so after her accident. I know it was bad parenting, but the looks I was giving myself were far worse than the looks those power walking bum-bag wearing sixty-year-old women gave me.

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2. I saw more of Facebook than the bowling.

I did look up (occasionally) but we all know cricket has a tendency to drag on, and I work in social media y’know. So surely it’s necessary, I justified to myself.

“No future wife will thank you for this.”

3. Cricket.

“Oh gosh you are brave letting them play cricket,” was the comment that made me look sidewise. Wait what, why? “No future wife will thank you for that.”

Wow, so now it’s the choice of sport that’s wrong.

Have I done the wrong thing in letting this be their summer passion? Should I be encouraging basketball instead? Would my daughter-in-law to be prefer that?

Guilt of future bad mother-in-law-sins is relentless.

4. Can’t you control your kid, I muttered under my breath to myself?

Trust me, I am trying to get Judgey McJudgey to back off.

No one wants their child to be the one losing the plot in the middle of the local coffee shop. When the screaming is loud enough to drown out the barista you know it's bad.  Looking back, I think the only one that really noticed the anguish was me.

5. Buying that second milkshake.

So the first one was spilt (hence the losing-the-f***ing plot) and I debated with myself whether buying another was a lesson lost... but tough times called for desperate measures. Have I created that eternal rod for my own back? Maybe.

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I will scold myself for that one next time we go out for coffee.

"Two can't hurt right?"

6. Bacon.

Oh there was so much bacon on that bacon and egg roll, and the sauce and the butter and the white bread. So many elements of goodness that added up to parenting fail.

7. Is he really old enough to ride his bike down the street by himself?

He’s only seven. But it’s a cul-de-sac and safe. You never know who is around or what will happen. But I need to give him some independence. You might regret it. Better to be safe than sorry. Ra ra bloody ra.

I run back and forth in my internal monologue with a helicopter mum on one shoulder and an advocate for free-range parenting on the other. I flip flop between the two and come out with a mish-mash of what I think is okay at the time.

8. Putting on two movies. Back to back.

They were G rated. And short. And I really really needed the break.

So, I am hoping that from now on I can be gentler on myself.

And that all of us can judge each other a little less and begin to recognise when the harshest of critics - our inner self needs to be silenced as well.

Do you think mums are their own worst enemies? What have you judged yourself for lately?

Want more? Try:

Rebecca Judd’s midwife reveals the truths about those motherhood myths.

“Don’t judge me but…I park in the family car spots. And I’m not a mum.”

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