Technically, I am a millennial. I was born in 1980 so by definition, you can group me into that generation. I don’t feel millennial. A very honest man I know, upon hearing this fact, said, “Well, then you are the world’s oldest millennial.” And that is a label that probably rings truer for me than the former. I didn’t have a cell phone until well into college. I didn’t get on Facebook until it was no longer cool. I do take enough selfies to be a milennial though. With my friends and with my kids and with my husband. I have a very full album of selfies on my iPhone.
I am a judgmental bitch.
I wasn’t always this way. There was a long time where I was consciously open-minded. I made efforts to always assume a person was doing the best they could with what they had at any given moment. As a teacher and an administrator, I gave parents the benefit of the doubt as I believed that they loved their child and were trying to be the best kind of parent they knew how. I worked at this practice. I worked at being empathic and compassionate and I felt good about those things.
When I became a mom however, that changed. Continue reading