Thou shalt not judge...

... other people's parenting styles and the effect they have on their children...

EXCEPT when the result makes you batshit crazy.

Unfortunately, I have a very low batshit crazy threshold.

I just wrote about an incident that left me seriously disliking a little girl and her parents.

Today, mothergoosemouse asks this question:

"How do you handle it when other people’s children aren’t being destructive or hurtful, but merely annoying — at a playdate at your house, at a playgroup, in a public playspace?"

And if you pop over to Suburban Turmoil, you'll find Lindsay discussing how another mother's parenting style can ruin a workout at the gym. She asks:

"But where do we draw the line? What is our responsibility to our children? What’s our responsibility to the children of others? Most of us have a hands-off philosophy when it comes to other kids, right? Walk a mile in their parents’ shoes first, we say with a deeply tolerant air. But we also like to say that it takes a village to raise a child."

I encounter these issues all the time — as the noncustodial stepmom of two teenage kids.

Talk about battling a frequent temptation to judge. Oh. My. Hell.

In the past, before I had the two little ones, I spoke up often. I criticized the way my husband parented — his refusal to set a bedtime or his insistence on packing sodas and candy in the kids' daycare lunches, for example.

Finally, for my own sanity, I had to step back and butt out.

My new tactic for the next several years was to leave the room rather than witness what I deemed "bad parenting." Clearly, we were going to disagree and clearly my husband was going to continue to parent the way he always had, so why keep picking fights? Better to just flee the scene.

That didn't work either, however, because the fact is that his parenting decisions and his ex-wife's parenting decisions very much affect our household, our finances and our lifestyle.

So I started speaking up again, this time with a vow to choose my battles carefully.

The line in stepparenting is often faint and wavering. At what point do I express an opinion? At what point do I intervene?

I've written in recent months about problems with my stepson. Drugs. An arrest. An accusation by police that he is dealing. A trip the ER after "getting sick" at a party. There's more, but I can't get into it on here.

Now me? I'd be getting a copy of the arrest report. I'd be calling the ER (out of state) and requesting the documents from that night. I'd be looking for a good therapist.

His parents, however, remain in denial and refuse to act. "What's the point?" my husband said when I asked if he'd gotten any of the arrest or ER documents. "We already know what happened."

No, dude — you only know what your son told you. And you've already busted him in numerous lies. He's tested positive twice. And he was accused of selling, which bumps things up into felony territory.

Get the freaking police report. Gah!

*banging my head long and hard against a wall*

My stepson is a juvenile. I am not his legal guardian. I don't have access to any of this stuff, a fact that drives me batshit crazy — both as a mother and a reporter.

I think it's driving his stepdad batshit crazy too.

I've talked to my stepson, who is a good kid with a lot of damn potential. I wrote him a lengthy letter. I've expressed my worries to my husband. But that's where it ends.

Because while I may have a parental role in my stepson's life, I am not — biologically or legally — his parent. And we all know it.