Four Types of Small Talk New Moms Endure

I love almost everything about being a mom: the tiny fingers that entangle themselves in the hairs at the nape of my neck and pull like we're playing tug-o-war. The sharp teeth that rake themselves on my skin when a nursing session is coming to an end. Spending 90 percent of my waking moments literally trying to prevent Katherine from falling off the bed, choking on cat food, playing with cell phone chargers...

But one thing I don't love?

The small talk.

I used to be able to go to Target and NOT TALK TO ANYONE. Thank you, self checkout! I could run in, grab mascara and granola bars and a new scarf (ha, as if I ever only grabbed three things), use the self-checkout lane, and LEAVE.

No awkward conversations. No forced smiles and courtesy laughs.

Not anymore, folks. Something about having a baby just attracts strangers
. Can they smell the sweet scent of an infant with their bloodhound noses? Can they spy Katherine from across the parking lot with their x-ray vision? I don't know... but I have spoken to more strangers in the past eight months than I ever thought possible or healthy.

It's not just that I am the worst small talker on earth. No. That's not the only reason I dread taking baby girl in public.

It's the NATURE of the small talk. I feel like the conversations fall into one of the following categories:

1) Increasingly Intrusive Interrogations. This strange old lady--let's just call her "Nancy"-- starts off with the innocuous but predictable, "How old is she?" Safe territory. But undoubtedly, Nancy gets bold and tiptoes dives right in to dangerous territory: "Is she sleeping through the night yet? Is she still nursing? Has she started solids yet? When are you having another one?"

No, Nancy. Those questions make me want to dodge, dip, dive, duck, and dodge. Not only are they not really of a stranger's business, but they also raise my hackles. Sleep is such a sensitive issue. We, for example, do not and will not cry it out or sleep train. And frankly, I don't want to get into a discussion with stranger Nancy about why that is.

Same for nursing. I'm going to nurse for at least a year. Thanks, American Academy of Pediatrics, for the recommendation: "What we do know is that as your child moves from babyhood toward toddlerhood, breastfeeding continues to act as a source of profound comfort and security, laying the groundwork for a confident, happy, and healthy future. For this reason, as well as the continued nutritional and immunologic benefits of breastfeeding, the AAP advises mothers to continue nursing beyond the first year for as long as mutually desired by mother and child." <-- emphasis mine (https://www.healthychildren.org/English/ages-stages/baby/breastfeeding/Pages/Continuing-Breastfeeding-Beyond-the-First-Year.aspx)

But this is SO looked down upon and judged in our society (I totally plan to blog about that later, by the way) and I don't feel like defending my choice to a stranger.

2)  Uber-awkward Oversharing. I'm relatively comfortable discussing topics that might make others squirm. But when Nosey Nancy starts sharing about her baby grandson's poopy diapers and her own birth experience? Well, that's when I have to call it quits. I don't know you like that.

3) Touching and Tickling. I guess this isn't technically "small talk," but it's a behavior everyone engages in with the little munchkin.

Honestly, I am generally okay with others holding and interacting with Katherine. At every school event I've attended, I've basically passed her around to my current high school students like a hot potato (if you've never seen a football player bounce a little baby, it's THE cutest thing EVER, y'all). I am totally fine leaving her with sitters and in church nursery. She does GREAT with other people. I don't think I'm overprotective (but even if it was, it's my kid, so *shrug*).

But during flu season when strangers would come up and grab her hands (and she was teething)? I found myself exhausted trying to contain her hands and come up with scripts to keep them from touching her.

Whyyyyyy are you touching her?

But here's the other thing: we want to teach Katherine healthy body boundaries and body autonomy (hence why I just bought Gavin de Becker's The Gift of Fear, which will be here Tuesday. So you'd better believe that if my toddler doesn't want you to touch her or hug her or high five her, I will be supporting that 100%-- I don't care if you're a stranger or her family member or my friend.

4) All the Advice. I try to extend grace and understand that others are offering advice because they want to help. However, it gets exhausting when I'm just trying to pick up some groceries at Kroger and I'm getting advice that doesn't even jive with my parenting philosophies.

It goes in one ear and out the other, but it does eat up time and we all know babies are basically ticking time bombs.


I guess the positive aspect of taking Katherine in public, which I should probably focus on more, is that she allows me to connect with others. Babies draw people together. They make people smile and remind them of the joys of the simple things of life.

People are nicer to me with Katherine is with me-- they let me cut them in line. They hold doors for me. They let me cross the street or park in the closest parking space. And for that, I am very grateful.

And I'll try to get better at the small talk, y'all. Because I guess it just comes with the territory.