Opinions are like...well, you know...

I'm not sure why it is, but pregnant women are public property. If I had a nickel for every time someone rubbed my belly, I could buy the Buddha statue that people were mistaking me for. Along with the rubbing comes the incessant questions. Will you be breastfeeding? Will you be having an epidural or going natural? Have you taken childbirth classes? What's your due date? (A personal favorite of mine....because inevitably they say "Oh January 19th! That's my mom/cousin/neighbor/dog's birthday!" As if I am supposed to be super excited that my kid will share a birthday with some random person's relative/neighbor/pet.)

I think the questions in and of themselves would be fine if not for the opinions that came along with them, because with the opinions come the Mommy guilt, which comes before you're even a Mommy.
Random person (hereafter referred to as RP): Oh, you'll be having an epidural? You know that increases your risk for a C-section.
Hugely pregnant me (or HPM): Oh, well I actually wouldn't mind a C-section.
RP: A C-section?! You know you'll never have a flat stomach again (I especially enjoyed this coming from a single, childless person).

Once Captain Destructo was born, the opinions just kept coming, which I actually think was worse because I was so insecure about my parenting abilities. I had huge supply issues with my milk, so much so that we almost had to take Captain to the ER for dehydration when she was a week old. Instead of stopping breastfeeding, we just supplemented with formula, and combo-fed until she was 8 months old. I considered this a huge feat as it was about 7 1/2 months longer than I thought I would last. I was INCREDIBLY insecure about this. I would try to bottle-feed her in secret, especially when she was really young. When she got older, I would make sure people only saw one or the other-the boob or the bottle, so they wouldn't think I was weird. Obviously, this is not a long-term solution, and I was busted at a party when she was about 3 months old. A random friend of a friend approached me and said "Can I ask you something? Are you breastfeeding AND giving her formula?"
I wish I would have said, "No, actually this is whiskey. It helps her sleep. Is that not what you did with your babies?"
But actually I stuttered something about my supply and we left the party early because I was so upset (I'm a little sensitive, OK?)

Fast forward 9 months: my daughter likes to throw food on the floor from her high chair. Obviously this is not acceptable, and it's not like she'll be doing it when she's 13, but she's 1 and I feel like I have to pick my battles so I just ignore her and sweep after every meal. Same goes for restaurants, I always clean up when we're leaving, but if I picked up every bit of food after she ate I'd spend the meal under the table, and I swore I wouldn't do that again (that's a joke. A JOKE!). Last week we were at Macaroni Grill, and a waitress came by (same waitress who had been cooing over Captain Destructo the whole meal), inspected the hot mess that was the floor and said "do you always let her throw food on the floor?"
Cool me would have said what I was thinking, which was, "Well, no, usually I let her play with firecrackers and knives to distract her. You don't have any here do you?" But of course I just looked at her and said "yes, actually" and again we left.

My point in all of this rambling: I don't walk down the street and tell people what I think of their outfits (only in my head). So keep your stupid opinions to yourselves. I'm just going to ignore them anyway.