I found a new blog to love earlier this week. It’s called Baby Rabies, and it’s written by Jill, a woman who is smart, funny, irreverent and cute to boot.

This site came to my attention because Jill was embroiled in a controversy. She wrote a post about letting her child cry herself to sleep. The title of the post was “Watch Me Break Mommy Blogger Commandment #1” and it started off with a “boy am I going to get in trouble for this” tone.

As I read it, I was confused. I didn’t think there was anything in her post that was particularly controversial. Much ado about nothing, I thought. Maybe just an attempt to stir up controversy and get some hits. But lo and behold, as I read the comments, and the responses on her Facebook page, I saw the negative comments come rolling in. She’s a bad mom, her kids will be scarred for life, blah blah judgy judge blah.

Sweet “probably crying it out because he was trying to get some sleep in a cold barn” Jesus.

I’m not going to go into the whole “let’s stop judging each other” conversation. I’ve made it pretty clear where I stand on judgmental women. To sum it up: Motherhood sucks a big one, so let’s start giving each other support instead of knocking each other down.

I’d rather discuss specific ways to make it stop. I think as long as there are insecure women, there will be women who think judging others will make them feel better. What can we do? I know what helps me. I have a group of real-life friends and a private online network of women with whom I can share anything. We say stuff to each other and nobody freaks out and we laugh, cry or bitch together. Is that the secret? Is it as simple as feeling comfortable enough, safe enough, to say scary things out loud?

Maybe it’s seeing other people say the scary things and then seeing them live through the aftermath. Maybe every time a Baby Rabies-style post goes up, another crack appears in the Wall of Meanness.

So maybe it’s up to those of us who do have support, and who are strong in our choices, to put it out there a little more often. So in that spirit, here I go.

Amy’s List Of Things She Does That Will Make You Really Mad

• I let my kids cry it out. When they were infants. After only a few weeks of sleep deprivation, I had lost my ever-loving mind. So I put the boys in their crib, shut the door, turned off the baby monitor, and I slept. Now, I never ignored a screaming baby who was obviously in distress or pain or hungry. But a screaming baby who just wanted my attention or wanted to be entertained at 1AM was just going to have to deal. And guess what? Both my boys were sleeping through the night, for at least eight hours straight, at only six weeks old. So neener neener neener.
• No infant ever slept in my bed. We had a three bedroom house, so those lucky ducks had their own room and their own bed. They didn’t need mine. These days, the boys do beg to sleep with me, but co-sleeping is by invitation only and is usually a reward.
• Jack slept on his back, but Finn never would, so I put him down to sleep on his tummy every single time.
• I breastfed, but only barely. I breastfed Jack for about four months I think. I only breastfed Finn for two weeks. After that, it was formula in a bottle for them. And you want to know what else? The whole time I was breastfeeding, I hated every single second of it with a passion. In fact, I still sometimes have nightmares about breastfeeding.
• I never wore my babies anywhere. I was given a BabyBjörn before I had Jack, and I was all excited to use it. I got it rigged up one day, put him in it and started to head out the door. Then I passed a mirror. That contraption spread my big huge boobs out to the side and made me look like I had two moons orbiting my fat hips. No way was I going out in public looking like that. With Finn, I tried one of those slings. I never could figure out how to wrap it. I could spend 20 minutes trying to get us both swaddled, or I could spend 5 seconds picking him up and perching him on my hip. Or two minutes strapping him a stroller. I’m not big on wasting time.
• I gave both boys rice cereal at about three months.
• I turned both their car seats facing forward when they turned one.
• I barely childproofed my house. I think I may have put something on the pantry door to stop the kids from opening it, but that was just because I didn’t want them spilling the Cheerios.
• I’ve never boycotted Nestlé.
• I tell my kids “no” all the time. I love doing it. I like the word “no” more than toddlers do. I consider it part of my job description to deny my children on a regular basis.
• I have given my children Benadryl before a flight to make them chill out. And remember when the FDA said we shouldn’t give cold medicine to kids under six anymore? Yeah, I still kept giving it to them.
• I sent the kids to daycare at a very young age. Even when I was just working from home.
• I vaccinate my children. I don’t space them out. And I never researched what was in the shots.
• I have popped a backside and grabbed an arm — hard — on more than one occasion.
• I feed my kids preservatives and sugar and processed and non-organic food. I do it in semi-moderation, but I still do it.
• I don’t pay the least bit of attention to product recalls.
• The boys watch a lot of TV. I don’t let them have it on as background noise, and I do demand screen-free time on a regular basis, but they still watch a ton of TV.
• I give them my iPad at restaurants so they’ll quit yelling and not act like loons in public.
• I am not on the PTA. And if you ask me to volunteer for stuff one too many times, I will flag your email as spam.
• I rarely take the boys to the doctor. I can’t be bothered to call for an appointment and waste time and money at the doctor for sniffles, sneezes, coughs and tummy aches. They’ll live through it.
• I don’t worry about cleanliness or germs. Eating off the floor, wallowing in the dirt, forgetting to wash your hands — meh.
• Sometimes the boys play outside while I’m not watching.
• I like Gwyneth Paltrow and I subscribe to the goop newsletter.
• I put my needs before my kids’ needs the vast majority of the time. I believe in taking care of myself before taking care of others. Sure, I do what I have to do. Would I rather sit down and read a book instead of helping Jack with his homework? Of course, but I still help with his homework, even though it’s torture. Because raising children has some baseline standards that must be met. But I’m no over-achiever.