I had this plan to write a long rant about judging other people’s parenting choices. It was something along the lines of, “Who cares, as long as it’s not your kid?” Then I realized there are definitely parenting choices I feel are ridiculous and stupid, so who am I to judge others who are judging? Well, I’m me, that’s who.

What prompted the whole thing was my current dilemma re: breastfeeding. I’m a nursing mom, but I’m not a Nursing Nazi. I couldn’t give a shit less what other people do with their boobs, their kids and any combination thereof, presuming nothing pedophilic or incestuous is going on. Frankly, it’s none of my business.

And right now, I certainly understand why people choose to formula-feed. I love Tricia with all my heart, but I’m tired of being a pair of boobs. I would very much like to have my body back. I would like to be able to eat a hot fudge sundae without worrying what kind of crazy poo episode might result.

But I know that the guilt of not breastfeeding her will eat me alive. (I’ve spent 13+ years trying to convince myself that Matt’s ADD has nothing to do with me formula-feeding him.) I don’t have a good enough reason to stop. (For the record, I am not saying anyone else should have a “good reason” to formula-feed. This applies to me and me alone.)

So today I decide to go scope out the various breastfeeding communities here on LJ hoping to find a place where I can vent about the frustration and get some support. And I’m sorely disappointed in all of them. The same old song and dance is trotted out all the time.

If you really love your baby, you breastfeed. Formula is poison. Blahblahblah. Well now really. I don’t believe that a mom who formula feeds is saying, “Hmm. I don’t really love you all that much” to her baby. Aside from that, who knows what reasons she might have for choosing that?

All I wanted was support to help me get through this period of utter disenchantment with breastfeeding, and what I got was pissed off (yet again) about people’s need to make their way the right way.

For real and for true, I don’t care how you raise your kids. Breast or formula, cloth or disposable, sling or playpen — all your call. None of it is my business. I’ll even go so far as to say that I don’t care if you raise your children to be deranged assclowns with the social skills of a retarded baboon, as long as your kids and mine won’t ever interact.

Is it just really that hard to live and let live?