Words of Wisdom

If there is one thing that is never in short supply as a parent, it’s advice. Everyone has advice for parents. It starts as soon as people know you’re pregnant and I’m pretty sure it never stops. It certainly doesn’t stop by age two and a half.

Some advice is good. Some is ridiculous. Some comes from well-intentioned people, some from people who just want to tell you you’re wrong — about everything, always. It comes from parents, non-parents, store clerks, co-workers, random passersby. It amazes me the effort that people will go through to tell a complete stranger what they think.

I recall stopping at Starbucks on my way home from one of my last doctor’s appointments during my pregnancy with Lilly. (For those who will chime in with advice about caffeine during pregnancy, I was getting a snack and a non-caffeinated drink.) It was the week of my due date by this time. I felt huge, uncomfortable and irritable. But the doctor had just given me the ok to wait one more week rather than induce. She said the baby looked good; my weight-gain was perfect — not too much, not too little. I was in good spirits.

Then, as I was picking up my order, the woman ahead of me turned to me and said, “Oh when are you due?” Having had this conversation more times than I could tolerate by this stage of pregnancy, I answered simply, “now.”

She then proceeded to try to convince me that I actually was not 9 months pregnant as my doctor and modern science had thoroughly confirmed. When I pointed out that I was pretty sure I knew more about my pregnancy than she did, she then went on to scold me for not gaining enough weight and warned me that I was not healthy and I really should talk to my doctor about that. This, I believe, falls into the ridiculous category.

It also, by the way, falls into the “you deserve whatever wrath befalls you when you mess with a 9 month pregnant woman” category.

But the truly unfortunate consequence of everybody offering themselves up as an expert on child-rearing is that occasionally people offer good advice that sadly falls to the wayside purely as a byproduct of advice overload. And then one day it bites you in the butt and you say, “Oh yeah, so-and-so warned me about this. She was right. I should have listened.”

A prime example of this in my life is my sister’s advice to “never ever let your child know that you can hear them through the bathroom door.” Man, I really should have listened to that piece of wisdom. But I didn’t. And I’m reminded of my mistake every time I call through the bathroom door to Lilly’s “Mama, where are you?” Because without fail, the next step is Lilly barging in and promising to “help keep your privacy” — and by that she means she’ll keep me company.

Or if I’m really lucky she’ll allow me to sit in the bathroom by myself with the door closed. For a moment. Then when the workmen renovating our other bathroom are just a few feet away, she’ll yell, “Mommy! You on the potty! Are you going poo poo?” At this point I drop my head in my hands and wonder if it’s not too late to take my sister’s advice.

Then, just in case the guys still working upstairs didn’t hear it, Lilly yells, “MOMMY YOU GOING POO POO! YOU GET A STICKER!”

Yep, too late.

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