If there is one taboo you hear repeatedly in parenting books it's to avoid being inconsistent. 

"No matter whether you have an early bedtime or a late one, dole out allowances or close the purse strings, be consistent."

Of course the effort is like holding your balance on a skiff in a squall. No circumstances are identical, and each pair of children are less so. Except my twins.

Recently I noticed that there are two people in my life who have made the same life choice, and my responses to them are, well, inconsistent. With one I am heavy handed with the opinions, while with the other it feels like it is none of my business. 

One of the dynamics in having nine children is that the older ones feel like it is open season on their younger sibs. They don't just toss in their two cents, they dump fifty bucks in quarters. The other day I went out for breakfast with two daughters who spent half an hour dissecting the choices of their younger, albeit taller, brother. By contrast I have never heard him offer them a shred of advice. 

What is even more ironic, is that the being judgmental is a lot of work, but letting others manage their own life is like water off a duck's back. Why would I choose to be judgmental? I end up all wet.