“Whenever you don’t feel like taking your child to the park, simply tell them it’s closed.” “If you find yourself in a store and your kid is throwing a fit over a toy, just say it’s not for sale.” “When your teenage daughter is slamming doors and locking herself in her room, grab a screwdriver and remove the door.”
These nuggets of wisdom were shared with me by friends long before I stepped into the world of parenthood. I even knew a couple who would rewrap their 5-year-old son’s old toys and gift them to him for Hanukkah! As ridiculous as that sounds, I can confidently say that is one strategy I will never consider.
Little did I realize that such advice is rampant in the parenting community. During my partner’s pregnancy, well-meaning parents would tell us, “Once you have a kid, your life is over.” Others offered a more optimistic view, declaring, “Your life truly begins with a child.” Since having a child seems to signify both an ending and a beginning, can we not settle on the idea that “Once you have a kid, your life continues”?
After two months of being a dad, I can unequivocally state that it is the most incredible experience imaginable. However, I also find that the most irritating part of parenthood is the unsolicited and often contradictory advice that comes my way. “Don’t worry, it gets easier,” we hear, followed by “Enjoy this time while he sleeps, because soon enough, you’ll be chasing after him.”
And then there are the seasoned parents with multiple kids who assure you, “It’s different with the second.” Really? You mean to tell me that managing twice the children isn’t the same experience? Why isn’t this headline news?
Just last week, I was in the elevator of our building with my partner holding our 8-week-old son, alongside another couple with their child in a stroller. The mother, who was pregnant, gazed at our son and whispered to her tall husband, “Remember when she was that small?” He chuckled and turned to us, saying, “You’re doing a great job.”
My immediate thought was, “How does he know?” Perhaps it’s because we’re not harming our son during this 25-second elevator ride? For all he knows, we could be giving our baby candy and spiking his milk. Just because he’s been a parent for four years doesn’t grant him the right to patronize us with blind compliments on our parenting skills. I smiled and said, “Thank you,” before exiting the elevator.
Don’t misunderstand me; as a new parent, I get the urge to share my experiences. I find myself telling taxi drivers and anyone who will listen about my son, and posting countless photos of him on social media—something I once criticized.
Text messages with friends that used to be about wild dating escapades and sports news have transformed into discussions about diaper rashes, sleep schedules, and baby gear. On the street, I’ve developed a “stroller camaraderie” with other parents, sharing knowing smiles that communicate, “Yes, I understand.” These are the same strollers I once complained about, exclaiming, “It’s not a tank!” at parents barreling down the sidewalk.
Yesterday, I shared a carpool service with a young mother and her 5-year-old daughter. How do I know her age? Because her mother announced it without prompting. As they rode, her inquisitive daughter asked a series of questions: “Mommy, is the driver stopped because the light is red?” “Yes, my little genius, that’s exactly right.” Clearly, the expectations for some parents are quite low.
You might laugh, but I am committed to never being the parent who heaps praise on their child for simply existing. I vow to refrain from being the one who dispenses unsolicited advice to others. Instead of projecting my experiences onto someone else, I will simply smile at the baby and say, “Congratulations.”
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In summary, as a new parent, I’ve learned the importance of not only enjoying my journey but also respecting the experiences of others without forcing my opinions on them. I choose to celebrate the unique path of parenthood without the pressure of unsolicited advice.