Freedom of Speech

One of the hazards of being a parent is that invisible sign we all wear that apparently says “Advice Needed and Welcomed.” As soon as the baby bump begins to show, family, friends, and complete strangers feel compelled to give you all kinds of advice about parenting. You may be lucky enough to hear someone’s horrific childbirth tale or about the time their sister-in-law’s cousin’s ultrasound went terribly wrong. There’s something about being pregnant that makes people want to talk.

Once the baby is born, there’s nothing like pushing a stroller around town to encourage strangers to impart their unsolicited wisdom:
“You’re feeding him a bottle? You know they say breastfeeding is best.”
“When my little Timmy was a baby, we didn’t have to use those annoying car seats. Why don’t you just hold him right there on your lap in the car?”
“Oh dear! What happened to her little mittens? It’s freezing out here!”

The worst part about receiving this advice is that most times you have to be polite and accepting, even though you might feel insulted. How can you snap back at that kindly 80-year-old grandma? (Even though you actually did remember the mittens, but you think the dog grabbed them when you were taking out the garbage and the baby was screaming and you were late to preschool pick up.)

The insomnia and exhaustion that new parents suffer can quickly transform one of these seemingly innocuous moments into something sour. One day, I braved a short walk to our neighborhood gift shop with a six-week-old Elizabeth in her stroller. Of course, as soon as we got there, she was audibly making a messy diaper, and I quickly headed toward the exit. On my way, I was stopped by a well-intentioned stranger who said, “What a beautiful baby. Oh, and such funny noises she’s making! How in the world is she doing that?”
"She’s…uh…she’s…er… pooping,” I replied, a little too loudly, anxiously looking at the door.
"Oh my heavens!” squealed the woman, and, covering her mouth and nose, quickly backed away.

I wish I had the nerve to talk to strangers in such a direct and open way. If something is bothering me, shouldn’t I just say it? Why does anyone need the insomnia excuse? We all know people who don’t hesitate to say exactly what they are thinking. While sometimes being around those people is intolerable, don’t you sometimes wish you could be more like them?
One time I was at the playground talking with a woman whose children had beautiful and unique names. We began to talk about how we chose our children’s names, and she told me she had considered naming her daughter Elizabeth, “but that name is just too common.”

I was taken aback by her comment and really didn’t know how to respond. Fuming on the way home in the car, I thought of a dozen witty comebacks that I’d never get a chance to use.
“Yes, that name is very common. In fact, we're naming all our kids Elizabeth. We're raising an army to stamp out rudeness.”
“Speaking of common, why is it some people have no common sense when it comes to polite conversation?”

Of course, there are other ways to tell a stranger exactly what you think. On a street near ours, there is a handmade cardboard sign tacked to a telephone pole that says, “Dunkin Donuts Cup Thrower – you are a MORON.”

I love that sign. Sometimes I drive home from the grocery store the back way just so I can take a look at it. Obviously someone was annoyed enough with the litter on their street to do something about it, and whether they meant to or not, they used a bit of humor in doing so.

Come to think of it, putting up a sign is a great idea. It gets the point across while still maintaining one’s anonymity. Next time I’m at the playground, I’m going to put up my own sign:
Lady who thought my kid’s name is too common – you are a MORON!