The outrage of it all
I received my first parenting reprimand today from a total stranger. Having heard such stories from friends who are parents, I have to say it was a pretty gentle initiation into the genre. But still. People, shut up.
I was in the checkout line of a Walgreen's with Daisy. I had her strapped to me in a Snugli carrier, wearing a short-sleeved onesie, pants, and socks. A middle-aged Russian woman with dyed bright orange hair was standing nearby and began to speak to me. At first I assumed she wanted to drown me in beams of approval and admiration because of the cuteness of the baby, as other middle-aged female strangers had been doing during my whole time out with the baby, so I arranged my face into a proud yet modest, beneficent, Virgin Mary-like smile, as befits the mother of such an irresistible urchin. But no! --she was plucking at the sleeve of my downy blue sweatshirt.
"You put this on yourself, right? Why not she?" the woman said sadly, pointing at the baby's bare arms and tsking.
I could have pointed out that I was drenched in sweat and had been cursing myself for wearing the damned sweatshirt ever since I set foot out the door, but as it turns out, snappy comebacks in these situations are harder to generate than one would think. I'd always imagined myself ripping right into the unsolicited-advice-giver, snarling with self-justification and elegantly pointing out the ignorances and hypocrisies sure to be latent in whatever the person was saying. But nothing sprang to mind in the moment, and I didn't want to continue the conversation, so I just re-shaped my "that's right, I created her" falsely modest smile into one of meek mortification and quietly inched forward in line. When I exited the store, she was standing there and I had to turn the wrong way on the sidewalk to avoid seeing her again, thus adding an extra block or so to my trip home.
As I walked home in the beginnings of a mild rain, noting that drops of water were actually binging and bonging off the baby's head, I wondered if she had had a point. I must make the horribly age-ist observation that women of my mom's generation seem overall to want babies to be swathed in at least four layers of clothing at all times, rain or shine, bundled so tightly that no millimeter of bare skin is showing. And to me, we were generating so much heat from being stuffed together body to body that if anything we were too hot. But on the other hand, sometimes I do forget to dress the baby. "Where do you think we are, Hawaii?" snapped my mother two weeks ago when I came downstairs to greet her on a chilly morning, Daisy in nothing but a onesie. She then noted that my shoelaces were untied.
Sometimes it does not occur to me to dress Daisy fully. I admit it. So many of the wee, darlin', elfin articles of clothing seem...more ornamental than anything else.
I felt sorry for myself so on the way home I bought myself some Skittles gum.
I was in the checkout line of a Walgreen's with Daisy. I had her strapped to me in a Snugli carrier, wearing a short-sleeved onesie, pants, and socks. A middle-aged Russian woman with dyed bright orange hair was standing nearby and began to speak to me. At first I assumed she wanted to drown me in beams of approval and admiration because of the cuteness of the baby, as other middle-aged female strangers had been doing during my whole time out with the baby, so I arranged my face into a proud yet modest, beneficent, Virgin Mary-like smile, as befits the mother of such an irresistible urchin. But no! --she was plucking at the sleeve of my downy blue sweatshirt.
"You put this on yourself, right? Why not she?" the woman said sadly, pointing at the baby's bare arms and tsking.
I could have pointed out that I was drenched in sweat and had been cursing myself for wearing the damned sweatshirt ever since I set foot out the door, but as it turns out, snappy comebacks in these situations are harder to generate than one would think. I'd always imagined myself ripping right into the unsolicited-advice-giver, snarling with self-justification and elegantly pointing out the ignorances and hypocrisies sure to be latent in whatever the person was saying. But nothing sprang to mind in the moment, and I didn't want to continue the conversation, so I just re-shaped my "that's right, I created her" falsely modest smile into one of meek mortification and quietly inched forward in line. When I exited the store, she was standing there and I had to turn the wrong way on the sidewalk to avoid seeing her again, thus adding an extra block or so to my trip home.
As I walked home in the beginnings of a mild rain, noting that drops of water were actually binging and bonging off the baby's head, I wondered if she had had a point. I must make the horribly age-ist observation that women of my mom's generation seem overall to want babies to be swathed in at least four layers of clothing at all times, rain or shine, bundled so tightly that no millimeter of bare skin is showing. And to me, we were generating so much heat from being stuffed together body to body that if anything we were too hot. But on the other hand, sometimes I do forget to dress the baby. "Where do you think we are, Hawaii?" snapped my mother two weeks ago when I came downstairs to greet her on a chilly morning, Daisy in nothing but a onesie. She then noted that my shoelaces were untied.
Sometimes it does not occur to me to dress Daisy fully. I admit it. So many of the wee, darlin', elfin articles of clothing seem...more ornamental than anything else.
I felt sorry for myself so on the way home I bought myself some Skittles gum.
posted by Sarah Goss at 2:18 PM
8 Comments:
Bah. Babies thrive in cooler temperatures than big people do.
I've also noticed that older people have the tendency to say: "Put a sweater on because I'M cold." It annoyed me when my mom did it, and it annoys me when my lovely and esteemed mother-in-law does it with my kids.
Whenever my kids go to my MIL's house, they always say: "Guess we need to wear socks, or Mimi will go ballistic." :)
That makes me feel better! I was starting to think I was terribly missing the boat on the clothing. I am trying to be a little more conscientious about it, but I can't quite believe what one of the nurses told us (that babies should wear one more layer of clothing than whatever you yourself feel comfortable wearing). Seems like too much.
BTW, I was listening to some Amazon samples of Custer LaRue (folk singer) and it occurred to me that the reason why lullabies are so bitterwseet is because those writers--whoever they were--knew the same sweetness/sorrow we know....
I remember when I took Felicity shopping - Macy's I think - at 5 weeks. As a premature baby, at 5 weeks she finally looked like a newborn! She was adorable in a sweater set, so I wasn't about to be accused of underdressing, but when two older (60ish) women stopped to admire her they had more than just admiration in mind. I glowingly accepted their praise for my beautiful daughter. But, after they gushed over her they wanted to know "How old is she?" They raised their eyebrows when I told them her age, as if I were lying. Huhh? They lectured, "She looks too young to be out like this. She should be at home. Tut. Tut." Brrggghhh. There I was feeling like I had to justify my parenting behavior to total strangers! Ahh, the public reprimand. So inappropriate.
As far as babies and overdressing, I say, if their tootsies and hands are warm, then they are fine. If their tootsies and hands are cold, add a layer. It's not like we live on the Arctic Tundra after all.
Gosh Sarah, your blog takes me back 25 years!
Fran
I can't wait for you to see the onsey I bought for Daisiloopalous. You're just going to have to dress her in inappropriately summery clothing for at least one more day.
Oh, yick. What a mean and nosy Walgreens lady. I am sure you know best how to dress your daughter. Don't worry.
Dude, that woman needs to look within.
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