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I think my absolute least favorite part of parenting is the goddamn opinions. Everyone has a fucking opinion on what you should do with your child and how, and they feel compelled to tell you. Repeatedly.

I understand the evolutionary basis behind this behavior. We’re all genetically compelled to try and make the offspring of our species survive. I get it. I am fully guilty of it myself. The compulsion takes me, and I don’t catch myself until it’s spouting out of my mouth. I try, at the least, to phrase it right. More comment, less direction.

However, it drives me absolutely mad sometimes. Don’t tell me it’s ok to feed my kid whatever (worse, don’t feed my kid whatever). I don’t need to prove that I’m nonconformist by not listening to the doctor. I will feed my baby what I want (and so will you!). Don’t tell me not to hold my baby. Do you have to deal with her when she’s spoiled? Don’t tell me what I need to do. You aren’t with us day to day.

I enjoy advice. I solicit advice very often. I like hearing what other people are doing, what worked for them as parents. That is very different than being told what I need to be. Being judged for what I do.

Maddening, I say. Fucking maddening. But it’s not going to change so better get used to it.