The 7 Questions We Need To Stop Asking All Parents. Full Stop.
by Vanessa Kass
We all know there are some things we must never ask.
We all know NEVER to ask a woman if she’s pregnant. Maybe she is. Or maybe she just super-sized her combo meal. Either way, you don’t say anything. That’s a big one. But we know this.
But there are so many other seemingly benign questions that are actually unspeakably rude and invasive, and frankly are not anyone’s GD business.
Here’s a quick list of what not to ask, EVER, as a handy reference guide.
Let’s begin.
1. Were you hoping for a girl this time?
Inquiring about the inner workings of a mother’s desire for any particular sex is presumptuous and rude.
This is a multi-generational annoyance for me. I distinctly remember a stranger gesturing to my brother and saying, "You finally got your boy." To which my mother replied, “I have two perfectly good daughters right here.”
The same has happened to me, though in reverse. When I was pregnant with my third and walking around with my two sons, strangers would say, “Trying for a girl?” Oh, yep! We’re just gonna keep going until we get the girl we really want. Thank you for your support of my family planning!
The questions are intrusive and uncomfortable, and in reality, they say more about the person asking. By proffering this question, the person is showing you their gender preference or their image of the ideal family. Do you really want to be a person that tips their hand like that?
2. Where did they get that red hair?
Ok. To be fair this is very specific to me.
But these types of questions are really about resemblance, belonging, and the definition of family. The assumption and expectation that siblings should resemble one another and an approximate 50-50 match of their parents.
Differing from that equation even has colloquialisms: red-headed stepchild, the mailman’s kid. Mean and gross. No family is a perfect Punnet Square.
For ten years, people have commented on the beautiful red hair of my kids and then ALWAYS glance at my hair and ask the question. It’s not about hair. What is actually being asked is whether or not that child is yours.
If you have different skin or eye colors, does that make the child less yours? No, it doesn’t. Obviously. But what is not so obvious is that it makes the adult, or child, feel as though they need to explain how they fit. I have a practiced answer – my husband and I had red hair, my brother in law still does, x out of y grandchildren do. I am justifying to strangers the genetics that make these children mine. That’s on me. But the question? It is hurtful. Be nice.
3. You're due in X? Wow, you're huge/tiny.
Never, never, never, NEVER comment on the size of a woman's belly. Pregnant or not. Do I need to go on? I will!
If you say we look huge, in addition to you being an awful person, we feel gluttonous and fat. If you say tiny, we worry about the health of the baby. For those that don’t know, weight gain or loss is a metric charted throughout an entire pregnancy. It can be complicated by morning sickness, diabetes, pre-eclampsia and/or cookie butter. A belly can look a different size based on where a woman is carrying. My first son snuggled in on my right side. I looked like a trapezoid. My second son spent a lot of time toward my spine kicking my liver and ribs and so my belly looked smaller. My daughter was born early at 4.2lbs but I looked like I was carrying a healthy, 6lb-er.
Belly size and pregnancy weight is laden with stress, expectations, advice and goals. None of which should be offered by or contributed to by strangers. That is between the pregnant person, her doctor, and mayhap her partner (probably not her partner, to be honest). Nobody else. Nobody.
4. Planning to breastfeed/cloth diaper/stay home/etc.? When I had mine, I...
If you have not had children or have not been beside someone who has, you cannot imagine how many choices you must make.
You cannot know the stress of shopping for the best/safest/most economical stroller/crib/pacifier. That is before you even look at the Instagram accounts of perfect nurseries and heavenly lit breastfeeding photos.
How I choose to care for the nutritional, emotional and financial health of my child is none of your business. No decision is easy. In addition to that, few decisions are a quick yay or nay. You may not want to breastfeed. You may not have the ability to launder cloth diapers or the finances to begin that journey. You may not have the choice or desire to stay home.
Every mother has made choices. For herself and her children. Your choices were yours. Let me have mine.
5. Wow, you have your hands full!
Most women, when they hear this, think this is a commentary on their brood creating obvious havoc somewhere.
Let me tell you, most women are hyper aware of their children’s behavior when they’re out. I silently salute the mother who is bent close to her child’s face with the telltale clenched mouth of a stern talking-to in public. I have been there.
Yes, my hands are full. I had my hands full with one. With three, I am outnumbered. But how about, “wow, lovely family.” Throw me a quick smile of understanding. Or buy me a damn coffee.
There is some corny quote like, “if you think my hands are full, you should see my heart.” Though I’m never one to love those types of lip curling quotes, I like this one. Because it’s true. It may also be true that someone has a giant zit on their nose. You probably wouldn’t point that out.
6. Were you trying? Do you know when you conceived?
Soooooo, you are asking if I was having unprotected sex with my partner? Are you asking time, location, furniture? Is this a game of Clue? Gross. Move along.
7. When are you due?
No. NO NONONONONO. See intro.
You have no idea what is happening in this woman’s body. She could be pregnant. It could be a burger. She could be recovering from a loss. She could be recovering from birth. Worth noting – the belly does not disappear immediately upon delivery; something my very own sister was shocked to observe when my daughter was born. A comment I gleefully repaid when she gave birth six months later. It was ok.
A. I knew she was pregnant.
B. I was there to see the baby.
C. She is my sister.
Unless you have met the criterion of A and B, do as Dave Barry says, “You should never say anything to a woman that even remotely suggests you think she's pregnant unless you can see an actual baby emerging from her at that moment.”
So now that you’re terrified of even speaking to any woman ever again, here are some things that parenting people would love to hear. Questions and conversations they would enjoy engaging in.
Here are three solid winners.
You have a beautiful/polite family.
Every time a parent leaves the house, it’s like going on a water ride. You might see the scenery and get out unscathed. Or you might have drama and end up soaking wet. It’s a toss up. If you see a family that makes you smile or seem worthy of a compliment, give it. It warms the heart of the parents and allows for a lovely conversation with the kids full of gratitude and positive reinforcement.
Can I help? Would you like to go ahead of me?
This is an alternative to “wow, your hands are full.” I have been so thankful the times that strangers have offered to help pile my crap on the conveyor belt at the grocery store (pre-covid. Social distance makes this tough). Or those who have let me cut them in line. Even if we have more things. It acknowledges the balancing act and is simply kind. I have done this for people behind me who have 6 items to my 6,000. Kindness always wins.
Engage with the kids.
Ok. This can be tricky because you are a stranger. But I love when people acknowledge my kids. Often my little ones look to me for permission to answer. Which I give, saying it is ok as I am there. But this is a lovely way to practice conversations and manners. It’s wonderful when someone asks about their interests, often plastered all over their shirt, and I see my kid light up. Or when someone tells them they are being a helpful son or daughter. It’s fun to see them animated or straighten up with pride. My kids love it, too, and it makes the errand a little less monotonous.
And, as a bonus, here is a little secret, that has never let us down.
When my husband and I were fumbling through new parenting with our first born, we went out to dinner. A little bit of normalcy in a world where everything was now different. I was nervous. Would the baby cry? What if he needed to nurse or be changed? What if any of the hundreds of fears I had came true?
Halfway through the meal, our waitress informed us that our drinks had been paid for by a lovely older couple. We thanked them as they walked out. They told us their kids were grown but they remembered how it all felt. They congratulated us, wished us luck and smiled. It was one of the kindest things that has ever been done for me.
We have since paid this forward. Buying the drinks of the new parents a few tables away. Came to find out this was their last lunch together before the new dad returned to work the next day. AND the new mom was going to be home solo. We congratulated them, wished them luck, smiled and herded our brood out of the restaurant.
Maybe a little reminder that even though it is hard, it is just so very worth it.
Vanessa Kass is a writer, teacher and mindset mentor. She lives in Connecticut with her three children, husband, and menagerie of animals. You can find more of her articles here.
