How do you handle all the advice?
By Staff
Leada Gore, Editor
When you are expecting a child, everyone has advice for you.
Most people are well-meaning and the advice has been pretty good.
"Let the nurses take the baby back to the nursery the first night. You'll need your rest."
"Don't buy everything you see in the store before she's born. Buy the basics and then see what you want and need."
"Don't buy baby clothes too far ahead. Sure enough, she will grow quicker than you think and you will be stuck with clothes that are too small or from the wrong season."
It's usually the seasoned moms who have handed out this type of advice. Their children are older and they've been able to look back at the experience with clearer vision. They are those who have "been there, done that," so they feel comfortable handing out such wisdom.
Then there is the advice, or more often the stories, that aren't so welcome. This type of information usually comes from people without children or, sorry guys, men.
This type of information usually sounds something like this:
"It's horrible. We didn't sleep until our daughter was 10 and then for only 20 minutes at a time."
"My cousin's wife was in labor for two weeks. It took her a year of bedrest to recover."
"You haven't bought an XYZ baby swing? You have to have one of those! I bet you haven't set up the interview for your child's prospective kindergarten or pre-paid her college tuition yet, either."
I try to take all the advice in stride, smiling, nodding and attempting not to feel like a bad parent because I've not yet signed the baby up for an SAT prep course. I tell myself there's plenty of time to purchase Christmas outfits, plan her first birthday party or start working on her foreign language skills.
Each time I hear this type of advice, I think back to when my nephews were born. When the oldest, Isaac, was born, his parents were extremely cautious. He ate organic baby food, had the full line of "Baby Einstein" DVDs and only heated oatmeal wipes caressed his skin. When his brother, Collier, was born three years later, my brother and sister-in-law had learned to relax. Collier was equally well cared-for, but no one worried too much if his baby wipes weren't heated or if he had to eat plain old Gerbers.
"I considered any day he didn't eat a bug off the floor a success," my sister-in-law said.
Relax. That, perhaps, is the best advice of all. And, most definitely, the hardest advice to accept.