My daughter has had a cold for the past week or so, which means her witching hour (which also happens to be the one evening hour I get to spend with her after work each evening, but that is another post) is extra witchy. To combat her general disdain at being awake, Seth and I bundled the three of us up and ventured out for a before-bed walk. My daughter loves walks, especially in the Ergo, where she has the best view of the world outside our apartment. After a trip to a local discount store for Christmas cards, we headed to Rite Aid because Seth wanted ice cream for dessert (I made brownies last night, and Seth thought ice cream would be the perfect topper). As we walked across the store to the freezer aisle, a woman said, "Excuse me." I checked my pocket to see if I had dropped something, but my pocket was zipped. I turned around to see why she was stopping me, and she said, "Support your daughter's head."
Before I get into my snapping, I need to backtrack. This isn't the first time Seth or I have been told to support our daughter's head. When snoozing on the go in her stroller, my daughter often sleeps with her head craned forward or sideways. While the position looks uncomfortable to most, she likes it. Of course, we used proper head and neck support devices when she was a newborn. But as soon as she could support her head, and the car seat instructions ordered out to take out the newborn insert, her head flopped one way or the other when she fell asleep. And boy, did people like to comment about it. Did they think we were walking around publicly endangering our child? Did they not realize we would straighten her head, and then she would immediately re-position it? We figured that if she was uncomfortable, she would let us know--she was good about doing so in every other aspect of her life.
Back to Rite Aid. "Support your daughter's head." I responded in an aggressive, non-Liz manner. "She's almost nine months old. She knows how to hold her head up. She is leaning back on purpose." And she was. My daughter likes being held upside down. It makes her laugh. It is no surprise that in the Ergo she leans back for a different view of the world. (Occasionally, she even falls asleep in the Ergo with her head leaning back--imagine the looks we get then.) The woman apologized and went on her way, and Seth thoroughly enjoyed my reaction.
You see, I'm fed up with unsolicited advice. I'm cautious by nature and ask a lot of questions. At work, I tell my colleagues that I would rather them ask an abundance of questions along the way, than make mistakes in the end. I do not like failure, although I am trying to become more comfortable with it. (That too is another post.) I am new to parenting, and I want to be the best mom I can for my daughter. Sometimes I google, sometimes I ask other parents for help, and sometimes, I go with my gut. In fact, our pediatrician advises Seth and me to go with our guts more often than not because we know our child. We know her personality and how it changes based on the time of day and how much she has slept. We know which toys she likes best and that sometimes napkins and paper cups make the best playthings. We also know that really we know nothing because the minute we come to expect anything, it changes.
Why is it that having a baby brings on a barrage of advice? People do all sorts of things in their lives other than having babies, but there is something about a little one that begs, "let me tell you how you should be doing everything." What's so unique about parenting and babies is that parents and babies are all so different. As I've heard from many parents, what worked with their first child did not with the second. One child was colicky and the other wasn't. One slept through the night at two weeks and the other waited until two years. One was a champion breast-feeder and the other would only take a bottle.
I have come to discover that perhaps the people doling out all that advice don't even realize what they are doing. They did it one way or think everyone should do it one way, and you don't. So, they have to tell you, "do it this way," before stepping back and thinking that your way may be okay, too. This post wouldn't be complete without my advice. Unless that child is actually in danger, don't judge and don't speak up. And if you must judge, because most of us must, do it later, when that person is out of earshot or when you get home. We are all trying to do the best we can, and I promise, I'll speak up next time I need someone to remind me to hold my daughter's head up.
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