5 Things Non-Parents Shouldn't Say to Parents

I shared a link from a friend this morning called, “5 Things Parents Shouldn’t Say to Non-Parents.” While I found the author’s writing style to be the right balance of wisdom and hilarity, I debated passing it along for fear that parent friends would rake through their entire friendship history with the childless people in their lives. If this was you, quit it. Chances are—if your friends are anything like me—they are so preoccupied with the dog poop on their carpet that they didn’t bother to notice the way you elevated your baby’s diaper blowout situation.

The truth is—we are all so wrapped up in our own lives; working mom, stay-at-home mom, not-a-mom, married, unmarried; that it often encompasses how we see the world and molds the expectations we project on other people.

I’m sure, beloved Momma-friends—that I have some apologies to dish out of my own. So here are the things I’m sorry for saying (or thinking, equally as bad):

1. I wish I had more time to myself. To a non-mother, this translates into: “My husband came in and turned it to ESPN before the four-hour season finale of ‘The Bachelorette’ was over.” To my sisters who have to call together a Pentagon strategizing session to determine the logistics of their next shower, this sounds an awful lot like SHUT. UP.

2. I want my old body back/I need to lose weight. You may very well need to lose weight—but newsflash: you don’t feel like a hot air balloon that someone just stuck a needle in. You don’t feel like your entire body just lost a game of tug-of-war. You don’t have to wear maternity pants when you’re no longer pregnant. And, most importantly, you don’t have to watch Heidi Klum go straight from the delivery room back onto the cover of a magazine in “10 Easy Steps.” So cool it with the fatty talk.

3. You see that child over there? My kid will never do that. I’m sure the karma involved with this one is enough to help you put a lid on your laughter for the time being. I know you readily anticipate the day when I plop my brilliant toddler in front of a mind-numbing cartoon; and the day that I cave in and buy the sugary cereal so she will stop throwing a fit in the middle of Kroger. You will inwardly rejoice when my stubborn preschooler insists on dressing like a hobo to go to church.

4. Hey, we should totally go [shopping, out to eat, to a movie] right now. Because by saying this I am of course suggesting that you leave your infant under the care of your Golden Retriever and Siamese cat. Instead, try this question on for size: “Do you want me to bring you some lasagna?”

5. I’m so tired. I stayed up late last night [reading, watching “Everybody Loves Raymond” re-runs, eating at IHOP at 2 a.m.]. Unless you can fill in that blank with “being an in-home dairy farm,” just don’t say it at all. For people who want nothing more than to gain some shut-eye, your blatant choice to stay up doing stupid stuff is just not helpful.

You see, we are all guilty of living within the realms of our own experiences; we are all guilty of playing the one-up game.

And it doesn’t even necessarily require walking in someone else’s shoes to remedy the problem; it just takes a little humility and the realization that—at some point, in some way—everyone’s shoes are going to step in some poop.