Opinions

As I started typing a title for this post what (literally) went through my head was "of course I do . . . opinions run very deep in my family." No joke, I heard the line complete with Middle Eastern accent. Then, realizing the reference would undoubtedly be lost on the entirety of our readership, I trimmed it down. Of course, now I'm curious if my assumption was correct, so I'm continuing to ramble about the blog title that never was.

It was when we were preparing for the birth of our third son that I began to realize how opinionated I was getting to be. I'd always had opinions, of course, (they truly do run deep in my family) but never before had I held any to which I felt so fiercely loyal. Never before had I felt so passionate about something that I actually felt myself loosing my temper listening to people spout off main-stream wisdom as if it were scripture.

While I wholeheartedly embrace the new found, and I might add, consciously formed, passions it has completely ruined me for some social interactions. Baby showers, to name just one.

I can't stand them.

I loathe being in a room full of mothers all trying, however innocently, to indoctrinate the mother-to-be with their particular brand of parenting. No soon-to-be laboring women needs to hear your labor horror story. No soon-to-be sleepless new mother needs to hear your sleep horror story, or even your fail-proof sleep method. Nor do they need to be laden down with 5,000 different opinions on the best way to have their baby, feed their baby, clothe their baby, carry their baby. Honestly, by the time any shower rolls around, the dear woman will have fairly well worked out her own opinion on most of this. She'll soon enough learn what will work for them and what will turn out to be just plain garbage. Furthermore, if she hasn't it's not the job of every woman who has ever birthed a baby to educate her. If she wants your opinion, she'll ask. Gah.

I spend a lot of time biting my tongue, but I just had to get that off my chest.