THE thing you don’t realise after you’ve had a baby is just how susceptible you will be to comments from other people. Every passing remark stings what is an already gaping wound. In case you think I’m talking about that other gaping wound that results from childbirth please know I’m being a little more metaphorical and talking about my heart for those less civilised minds down the back.
When JJ was but six weeks old, I can remember a wise person telling me that when you have a newborn, “every comment is wounding,” and it is amazing how often the observation has come back to me, mostly when we encounter people in shops and on the street. They voice concern at JJ’s poorly selected outfit choice, or whether he’s comfortable in his buggy, or the length of his fingernails, or some equally well-intentioned but totally unwelcome feedback on what I perceive as my lack of parenting skills.
Everything hurts that bit more when you have a baby because you want it all to be perfect, and it is the time in your life when perfection - always elusive — is most definitely not on the cards. As a result, we must tread cautiously when offering any kind of advice to those in the thick of it because however harshly you’re judging these parents, know they are probably judging themselves twice as hard.
It is probably such sensitivity that sent my nostrils flaring a few weeks ago when a family friend was a tad pass-remarkable about all things baby-related. The bottle wasn’t the right temperature, she bemoaned. The three-year-old wasn’t wearing a vest, she pointed out. That was the one that really stung because I had presented my husband with one that afternoon when I asked him to change JJ after a particularly messy lunch (bolognese baby — that family favourite will get you every time).
But when she audibly tut-tutted at the three-year-old’s mismatching socks, something in me ignited, an ember which hadn’t been stoked to such an extent since 1997, when my friend insisted that Ronan Keating was the best-looking Boyzone member (the dog and his mother knew it was Stephen Gately all the way).
‘I actually think I’m a great parent,’ I responded, and not one single syllable did I say with even a hint of conviction because quite frankly I knew it wasn’t true, but I’m all about faking it ‘til you make it.
The family friend looked genuinely floored. ‘I never said you weren’t,’ she responded, and I realised at that moment that she wasn’t trying to be cutting at all — she genuinely felt she was imparting wisdom, albeit in a somewhat clunky delivery.
The problem with parenting is that even when we’re asking for advice, we’re not asking for advice. What we want is to be told we are doing great, just as we are, and to be reminded that we need to trust our gut because that will never steer us wrong.
There are ways to guide people in a way that they don’t even know they’re being guided, such as the comedian who suggested an add-on to a new joke I do. His help was so subtle that it didn’t even feel like help at all and, you know what, it made the joke ten times better. How wonderful it would be if everybody possessed the gentleness to offer assistance in a way that feels completely devoid of judgment and comes from a place of love.
A top tip to avoid hearing the inevitable tut-tuts that come as you wheel your baby around the town is to wear earmuffs on the daily. As we all know, warm ears never go out of fashion, but they also block out the haters — a tip I picked up from my close personal friend J Lo. In exchange for that top tip, I told her to stay away from Ben Affleck because exes were exes for a reason, which definitely cost me an invite to the wedding.
If you spot a mistake a mammy is making and think of some helpful feedback so she can remedy it, just ask yourself the three questions drilled into us in primary school as a handy metric for whether or not we should offer an opinion: Is it true? Is it kind? Is it necessary?
But even if the answer to any of these questions is a yes, please refrain from saying anything to a new parent unless it poses an immediate health and safety issue. We are simply not robust enough to read anything less than the highest praise as anything other than a scathing criticism.
Perhaps a better adage is, if you have nothing nice to say, say nothing. This is especially true if it is in relation to a new baby or even a new partner. Sometimes, when people ask for feedback, they are really just asking for permission to make their own decisions. And as we all know, all any of us have is our gut. My good friend J Lo taught me that, and that’s never steered her wrong, bar Jersey Girl, a movie anomaly which can only be explained by it being the one and only time she took somebody else’s advice.
The moral of the story? Trust yourself. You know more than you think, and what you don’t know, you’re learning, so either way, we’re winning here. And if you’re reading this and you’re a new parent, put on those ear-muffs, dress your buggy in a rain cover, and go forth, holding your head up high.
Because I can tell you, the reviews are in, and it turns out you’re doing just great. Don’t forget it.
