Everyone Has an Opinion About Your Baby and Sometimes They Have an Opinion About You!

8-MonthsDon't get me wrong, I love all the oooh's and aaah's. I eat up the, "He's the most precious thing." and "How cute/sweet." comments. I'm always thrilled to hear about how observant Jensen is for a baby his age. In other words, compliments are welcome. Keep 'em comin' because momma loves it!

Would it be too much to ask for strangers to stop there? I don't need unsolicited opinions about him being cold (he's not, he's a hot baby but I would prefer you not touch him to confirm this). No one seems to be able to agree about whether he is too small for his age or too big for his age but they all seem very concerned about it one way or the other. According to my pediatrician, I'm feeding him just right and he’s growing fine so you really don’t need to worry about this. Please don’t push your obsession about size off on my baby.

Most of the time I ignore comments that seem to be prying. I don’t think people really mean anything by it and if they do, I don’t really care. Sometimes people go too far though and they beg to be messed with. You see, I have a wicked sense of humor and I am not above using it on strangers. Case in point, two or three weeks ago I was finishing a shopping trip at Walmart. Jensen was drawing attention as usual and quickly came to the attention of our cashier. She seemed friendly enough; in fact, I have no reason to conclude she is anything less than friendly.

She began chatting with me about how adorable Jensen is and being in a good mood I chatted along. She asked how old he was and if he was my first, 8 months and yes are my answers to these fairly standard questions. I went on to say that my husband and I intend to try for baby 2 this coming May.

Abracadabra, her mouth filter vanished before my eyes. “How old are you?” Oh, here we go, I thought.

“I’m 36,” I say.

“Oh, you waited,” she responded with strong emphasis on the wait.

“Well, yes,” I say, “I waited for the right man.”

“Oh, well, aren’t you worried about trying again so late?”

What is wrong with this girl, I wondered? “Well, no, not really,” I respond.

10 Toes: Go ahead and count them!She then raises onto her tippy toes and peers over the counter to examine Jensen. “Well,” she declares, “he looks perfect, you must have done alright the first time.”

“Well,” I say, “he was born with 6 toes on each foot but the extra toes were so tiny they just snipped them off and there isn’t even a scar.”

“Oh”, she says.

And thus ended our conversation. I managed to make it to the parking lot before grinning at my devious nature. Muah ha ha. Do NOT imply I’m too old to have children or you too may be on the receiving end of my mocking wit.

For those among you (I hope there are none) wondering about my child’s feet, they are perfect with 5 little piggy toes just the way they came.