Opinion-Schminion

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Parenting Fact #248 - When you have a kid, everyone has an opinion. It seems like I lived my first 30 years with little to no public interjection whatsoever. I can't recall too many instances where complete strangers ever made a point to remind me of my flaws, weaknesses and/or any other somewhat social infringement that I may have made.


I've never been questioned on my ability to care for myself nor has anyone ever impugned my intelligence or common sense. Wait, I retract that statement... I'm sure there have been some instances of belittlement but for the most part I must have an innate ability to tune people out when it comes to editorial comments regarding myself. Not a bad skill to have in some circumstances.


Then, you become a parent and the friendly, albeit unsolicited, advice begins to roll in like a plague of locust. Well, maybe not locust... but a plague of some epic proportions just the same. This I am sure of.


It seems as though the very moment you brandish your newborn, you've seemingly opened Pandora's Box of Public Parenting. Scrutiny is abundant. Suddenly, everybody has something to say. And when I mean that they have something to say, I mean get your tissues out and refill your Xanax because all censoring of any sorts is out the window. There is no sugar coating. People just start saying exactly what they're thinking. And, they're really owning it!


My first experience was over socks. Yes, socks. While both my mother and mother-in-law may believe that this originated with them, it actually occurred during our first real outing to Target when my son was 8 days old. He was securely fastened in his carrier and snuggled under a temperature appropriate blanket. At some point during our outing, his abnormally long foot slipped from underneath its cover. And just like that, I exposed my newbie parenting flaws to the world. A lady approached me and asked if his sock had fallen off. I replied that he wasn't wearing socks and was quickly informed that he should be wearing socks!!! For goodness sakes, he could catch pneumonia and that would surely set off a series of events that would forever cripple him both physically and emotionally. That was it - because of his lack of socks he was now destine to never spacewalk, become President of the United States or cure a particularly heinous disease - one having to do with feet, I'm sure. 


Now, here's my theory about newborns and socks...


They don't really need them. They fall off within minutes of putting them on their tiny, itty bitty feet and they're a booger to keep up with in the wash.


Now, here's my theory on opinions...


Everyone has one. 


Yup, that's pretty much it on that one. After really thinking about it, I've figured two things out when it comes to people's opinions...


1. People's opinions often (and easily) get the better of them. There's a lot of energetic passion behind how people feel about certain things...like socks, for instance. People just have an impulsive need to share.


2. Most (and I emphasize MOST) opinions come from a good place, regardless of how the message was delivered. 


So the next time you're faced with an opinionated know-it-all, simply smile and say "I did not know that, thank you so very much sharing that information with me." They walk away feeling as though they've made an effort to make the world more of "their kind of place" and you'll probably just get a good laugh. Everybody wins.

Don't Worry 'Til There's Something to Worry About

A Thirty Thoughts Posting...


Yesterday, I was at the Gyno (don't worry, I won't get too specific from here on...) and was told that I needed yet another surgery. I need to have some sort of "something-or-other" removed. While I'm pretty sure the doctor was more specific with his diagnosis, all I could hear was "bak, bak, bak"...just like the teacher on Charlie Brown. At that point, my brain shut off momentarily. Now, I'm pretty good at selective hearing and an expert on choosing what information I care to retain and what to trash but this was total system failure. A brain fart of epic proportions. 


When my brain came back online I had the following thoughts:


"Um, 'kay? Another surgery...perfect! Wait, you want to do this in 2 weeks?! How do I have an abdominal surgery when I have an 8 month old that has to be carried everywhere?"


A few years ago (possibly, even a few months ago if I'm going to be really honest) I would have flipped my crazy, self-centered lid. But, as luck would have it, I don't have that luxury anymore. I'm a mom and that means business.


After processing the information for the better part of an afternoon I realized that I needed to listen to my own advise - Don't worry 'til there's something to worry about!


Worry breeds a bevy of other negative thoughts. It sets your (negative) creative wheels turning and only churns out a bunch of stuff that you can't do anything about. What good comes from worry? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It doesn't change a thing. It's gonna be whatever it already is so why bother with the details until I'm told otherwise?


Once again, I think that's a lesson that you can only learn in time. Man, if I'd of applied this way of thinking a long time ago, I would have avoided a few ulcers, saved a load of cash on my Tums purchases and probably lived just a bit more of stress free life. Oh well. Lesson learned but more importantly...lesson applied!

Open to Editorializing

So, if you caught my previous post, Writer Blocked, you'll recall that my frustration with a certain author got the better of me and that I lowered myself to calling her a less than flattering name. While I'm still of the opinion that said author more than lives up to a variety of colorful descriptions, calling her a name wasn't necessary. Accurate? Perhaps, but not necessary. 


It took my mother reminding me what the purpose of this venue was created for... Celebrating the joy in the most ordinary of circumstances. While the word "joy" is a small word, it's definition is broad. One example of joy might be finding happiness in humility and in the fact that I can admit when I'm wrong about a poor decision (or, choice of words, in this case.)


So here goes it... my first editorial retraction.


I apologize to said author for calling you what I did (even though in the grand scheme of things, it was pretty mild.) That was wrong of me on many, many parts. Primarily, because I believe that I'm slightly more creative than to settle for ordinary, run of the mill foulness. If I were to think about it long and hard enough, I have more than enough faith in my vocabulary that I could unleash a virtual word-storm to accurately convey my point.    


I digress.


I suppose that the joy-based reason for my apology is that it's just not nice. As simple as it sounds, it's the truth. The entire purpose of my reaching out to her was because I wanted her help and acceptance. Silly me for assuming that most people live by The Golden Rule. I supposed that she would "do for me" as I would "do to others." My mistake. But, by me being testy and saying what I said, I became no better than her. 


Perhaps the lesson here is that snarky is as snarky does. So, I'll try to live less snarky in the future.


Thanks Mom!

Writer Blocked...

I've been batting the idea around to write a novel for a month or so. The content is there, believe me, as it's about just one generation of crazy that runs in my family. When I say crazy here, I'm meaning it makes a Lifetime movie look like an episode of Barney and Friends. When you have material this good, writer's block is not my issue.

My issue that I've been trying to muddle through is how to get it published. Yeah, yeah, I know... I should probably write the thing before I work out such minor details as this. Cart. Horse. I get it. But still, wanting to know where to go after my masterpiece is complete is just a step towards being prepared, right? I mean, why bother with the whole thing at all if there's not a clear plan to execute at the end?

Then I remembered my mother-in-law telling me about a book that a local woman wrote about the trials and tribulations of being a wife and mother. Well, hot damn - I can relate to that! I open up my little Nookie and have that darling piece of literature in my hands in less than 18 seconds. The book was pretty good as far as mommy-logs are concerned. The main thing I found so intriguing about this book was that the author lived in my town. If I lived in New York or LA this wouldn't be so titillating. But, hello... I live in Little Rock, Arkansas. This is not exactly a place where literary masterminds hale from. It was more than amazing to me to think that a published author lived in my very own town. Heck, I've probably been stuck with her at the same stoplight. I've most likely shopped for my groceries at the very same Kroger. Our dogs may even go to the same vet clinic for all I know. I mean, we've got to have so much in common, right?

Enthusiasm was flowing through my body and my energy to meet this woman was consuming me. I had to make contact right away. I fully believed that if this lady knew me, knew how much we had in common (we live in the same town AND we're both writers...well, one of us anyway) that we were bound to be besties from here to eternity. Last night a sent her a delightfully upbeat "howdy-do" and explained myself in a short and sweet manner - I live in Little Rock, I want to write and I'd love to grab a Starbucks with her... my treat, of course!

This morning I awoke to this message:

"Being that I'm a published author, wife and mother, I don't have a lot of spare time. The spare time that I do have, I'd rather not spend mentoring unknowns. I believe my time can be spent in more useful endeavors. There are plenty of resources that can be found on the web. Best of luck."

Well lady... if that's how you really feel don't sugar coat it for me! I'll take solace in the fact that I'll learn my lessons and take my lumps from this. But, I'm pretty sure that you'll continue to "show your spots" to those who try to support you... No loss here.