Such a response is I suppose necessary when someone has lost perspective - say, attempting to imitate Juana la Loca on the death of a husband, but not during the eulogy at his funeral; or when someone is still pushing their baby anecdotes when the “baby” is a grown man - but not to the mother of a newborn’s face.
It is human to grieve at a death and it is human to rejoice at a birth. They are, objectively as well as subjectively, a ‘big deal’ to the people involved, even though people have been doing both since time immemorial. Failing to acknowledge that, by offering a certain (not unlimited) toleration for the grieving and rejoicing of others, even if you do not share their grief or their joy, is as much an excess as carrying on about it interminably.
We have no problem acknowledging it, it’s when it goes on and on and on-here’s Madeline on the couch; here’s Madeline on the floor; here’s Madeline on the LIVING ROOM couch; and here she is–in Daddy’s favorite chair! etc that we tend to get a bit irritated.
When my oldest child was born (soon after), I went to a business dinner with my husband. I (of course) extolled the virtues and wonders of Daughter to my table. The VP of the bank said something that gave me food for thought and I learned from it. In the nicest way (and voice) he said, “We had 4 of those ourselves.” (they had 4 kids). It made me realize that however unique and wonderful and perfect I thought she was, every other parent (the sane ones) thinks that way about their own and because of that, perhaps my nattering on about her specialness was not necessary. Of course my kids still get mentioned, but that one comment cured of the Boring Mommy Syndrome.
And thank God. So, thank you Don, for that remark at that business dinner back in 1990. I’m passing it on.
Well, you can’t argue with that. But I happen to think there is a certain amount of overlap between Winston Churchill and Yoda.
The other new-mom thing I hate is when they start in with the “So, have you thought about having kids?” or “You’ve got to have kids, you have no idea - life is meaningless until you have children” (yes, actually said to me). Look, I’m single, I’m just starting grad school, I have no money, and furthermore I find other peoples kids kind of boring. Why would I want to suddenly pop out some kid just because you feel like it made you special?
The evil side of me would so want to respond with a deeply concerned expression, and a hushed and nervous reply of: “Oh… no… you don’t think it could be <insert hideous disease>”
Possible diseases run from the usual measles and mumps, through to fibromyalgia (inspired by recent staff report), myalgic encephalomyelitis, Tourettes, Huntingdons… or you could even just make something up “Szilard’s syndrome” sounds sufficiently startling.
I don’t totally agree. I think it is perfectly understandable for the mother of a newborn to extol the virtues or minutae of their child, and when someone does that to me, I would prefer to listen politely rather than dispensing such “wisdom” of my own - even though I have a child.
Consider the situation where one is sitting at a dinner and one’s business partner or friend mentions that she is consumed with grief - husband just died. “Oh well, both of my parents and my wife died long ago” - appropriate, wise granting of perspective? After all, everyone dies; must cure that person of ‘boring widow syndrome’.
Of course, anything can be taken to excess, and one-sidedly discussing one’s children gets old - as does harping on about grief long past the event. What I think is that people here are taking the whole thing too far in the other direction and are pushing raining on another’s parade as opposed to balanced “perspective”.
There’s an element of judging your audience too, though. You wouldn’t discuss your personal grief in depth at a business dinner, and you probably shouldn’t be discussing your joy at your new baby in depth there, either.
Certainly that could be inappropriate - it depends, as you say, on the occasion and the audience. If they are clients or business partners that you deal with on intimate terms it can be appropriate, but appropriate or not I’b be reluctant to comment on it. Certainly if one of my clients chose to discuss her baby, or her grief, I would not dream of dismissing the topic in a cavalier manner - I’d fear losing both (possible) friend and client; plus, in a less self-serving manner, I would not wish to hurt their feelings (and nor would I think it right to do so).
It would only be if I either (a) knew them extremely well and liked and trusted them a lot, so as to know they would take it the right way or (b) was more of a jerk and did not actually need their good opinion (for example, if I was a partner and the person making the comment was low on the corporate totem pole, or the wife of someone low on the pole) that I would say something that hints of ‘cease boring us with your petty personal matters’ concerning a major life moment.
Particularly in public, where it could very easily be seen, not as well-meaning advice, but as a major put-down: not so much ‘what you are saying is boring’ as ‘you are boring (or unimportant)’.
Who’s discussing the joy of birth? The child is well over a year old. I did visit her when he was born, present in hand, and attempted to ooh and aah over him, except that she shrilly cautioned me to not speak too loudly/jostle him/startle him to the point where I was too scared to even do more that pat his hand and left after a half-hour. He is certainly her little miracle, but no one else really has a vested interest in that child that even approximates hers—including the child’s father.
I have several friends with kids and a neice and nephew that I adore. I suppose that I could feel guilty and get all emo about not valuing her experience blah blah, but no. Suck it. I love babies, I have been great with all other babies, and the sole reason this baby is annoying to me is that his mother makes it so.
