Village Etiquette

“If one more person tells me how BIG I am, I am going to shoot them.”

My girlfriend Renata, who is usually not a violent person, is due any day with her baby. As with any woman who is about to run the marathon called childbirth, her belly is indeed large but proclamations of “bigness” are hardly necessary. As if perhaps, she hadn’t noticed the reason she can no longer see her toes. Her brother-in-law, a NMOWC (never married or with children), explained that he thought it was the polite thing to do, fawn over a mother’s belly size.

Not. As those of us who have been “big” well know, this is not polite or welcome behavior.

Is there no longer a sense of etiquette or social boundaries? People feel free to comment on other people’s appearances, behavior and my biggest pet peeve, parenting practices, without giving it a second thought.

And for whose benefit?

For example, I had to run a couple of quick errands in the village. My girls were tired, so I pulled out the double stroller and plopped them into it for quick and easy maneuvering. My goal was to get in and out so we could spend our time at Bluebird Park. I rounded the corner from Glennerye onto Forest and passed a man about my age.

“Those kids are too big for a stroller,” he pronounced.

I was stunned and speechless. Obviously three and four year olds don’t need a stroller, because, “Hello, I know they can walk.” I just didn’t want the drama of two tired girls while I faced the downtown post office, an experience that can often send me into my own temper tantrum.

I understand that it takes a village to raise our children. And I fully support that idea, especially when it comes to a village that offers complimentary babysitting. But does that mean the village has the right to comment? And that, I in turn, should listen?

I contacted the Emily Post Institute, one of the foremost authorities on etiquette, for their opinion on the matter. Cindy Post Senning, one of Emily’s great grandchildren, told me that we have two response options.

“Kindly ask the rude person, “Why do you say that?” That person is then forced to consider what he or she said to formulate his or her response, “ she advised me.

That’s a bit boring but I get her intention. I liked option #2 much better. One she labeled the “passive-aggressive” and fairly successful response.

“You can respond with “How kind of you to say so!” or “How wonderful for you!” And then firmly change the subject.” Go Emily Post and descendants! I like your etiquette.

I asked my girlfriend Annie what she thought.

“Loosen up,” she exclaimed.

Well, that was a shocker. I thought she would be all over this one, but instead she was all over me. “Most people mean well. They just lack finesse in their delivery.”

Her theory is that social boundaries only contribute to us feeling more isolated. She’d rather have neighbors dropping by with an unsolicited opinion than remain alone in her house. And I agree. But I get parenting advice daily from my mother, my mother in law, my friends, and, of course, SuperNanny.

My husband shrugs his shoulders. He can hardly understand my outrage. To him, it falls into the category of “opinions are like you know what—and everybody’s got one.” So who cares what some stranger says?

Well obviously I do. The next weekend, my husband and I headed out for a family adventure with some friends on Coronado Island.

“We don’t need the stroller,” I announced. A bold move considering we were going to walk a fair distance. For a moment, I was thrilled. We were stroller-free. Walking. Exercising. Having a wonderful time. Mr. Nosy was right. My kids were too old for a chair on wheels.

That was until my four year old declared blisters on her feet and did the wet noodle act in the middle of the street, insisting on being carried. Which meant then that my three year old needed to follow suit and be carried too. So there I was with a ½ mile to walk and no double stroller in sight.

How wonderful for me!