Day 204: When it comes to advice, it's give and take

If you were to gather a group of women together and take a vote on the most irritating aspect of being mom to a young baby, I think a clear winner would emerge. Not the most difficult part, just the part that makes you grit your teeth and pull your hair out. The winner may not be what you expect, and in fact has little to do with the baby at all. It would not be, for instance, when the diaper suddenly gives way in the middle of the grocery store checkout and releases a river of foul-odoured, runny poop down baby's leg. It would not even be when you're in the swimming pool and baby spits up a giant white mucousy delight that then floats its way in and around the other swimmers for the next half hour while you try to pretend some other phantom baby was the culprit. No, these would merely be runners up to the mother of all irritations, which is the constant, unwanted and unsolicited advice and opinions on how to raise your baby.

It starts when you're pregnant, this torrent of well-meaning, condescending wisdom. As soon as the bump emerges even strangers feel entitled to weigh in on what you eat, wear, do. The first few times it seems kind of sweet, but when it gets to the point where you are having to hide your can of Coke in a paper bag to avoid public criticism it becomes harder to see the fun in it. Keep in mind that pregnant was not my favourite state of being. I did not feel glowing and peaceful; I felt big and awkward and like all of my internal organs were on the verge of dropping to the floor (hmm, too much information?).

But then the pregnancy is over and the little one is on its way and the steady trickle of opinions you received over the past 10 months suddenly explodes into a raging flood. It starts, of course, with your labour choices - drugs or no drugs? c-section or natural delivery? From there we move onto the breastfeeding/formula debate, which is always a fun one. If your newborn happens to fuss in front of company, you will be warned that it is colic. And then, god help you, what to do when she actually cries - do you pick her up and spoil her or leave her cry and be cruel? If she spits up a lot, you will be told that she is eating too much, or too fast, or that she is simply, as one relative put it, "not normal." And then there's the naming of the poor child. When told that we call Madeline "Maddie" for short, a friend of my mom's commented that it sounds like the name of an overweight maid in a romance novel. And not long ago on the bus, upon hearing her full name a complete stranger leaned down and said to Maddie, "You'll have to be a tough little girl with a name like that." It goes on and on and on, and from what I hear it only gets worse as you go.

The flip side of this, though, is that we new moms are just as guilty. Now, I am of the opinion that babies come out complete with their own little personalities and preferences. Some cry, some don't, some sleep, some don't. My role during those first few months was just to do my best and cross my fingers. But not everyone seems to agree, there are a few who've got it all figured out. For instance, more than once I've heard one new mom say to another, "Your baby doesn't sleep through the night (STTN)? Well, you should just make sure his room is dark and quiet when you put him to bed. That's what we do and little Johnny is a perfect sleeper!" Wow. Parenting breakthrough. Maybe I'm crazy, but after 6 months of sleepless nights I'm pretty sure this woman would have tried that alternative. But I understand the temptation. Now that Maddie is emerging from the newborn stage, I am somehow drawn to those who are smack in the middle of it. When I see a woman struggling with a tiny, screeching baby in the mall, I have to resist the urge to cast a knowing little smile her way, one that would no doubt come across as saying, "Been there, done that." I want to ask how she's coping, tell her what I went through. I suppose it's a little like one warrior returning from battle passing another just going into it: Good luck, friend, hope you make it out alive.