It strains me to avoid giving advice. I have so much advice. It’s bubbling up as the response to every question. “Hey Lady! Should I buy the blue sweater in my left hand or the brown sweater in my right hand?” Okay, the total stranger standing in the clothing store looking at seaters did not ask me, but I one hundred percent think they should go with the blue and it’s burning me up not telling them that the brown would look so bad with their hair color.

People don’t want my advice, they want to decide on their own course and if I give advice unsolicited, they won’t listen anyway. I know because I wouldn’t listen when given baby advice back when the kids were new. The things I learned to do with my human newborn are now scientifically proven incorrect, just as the junk science my mother learned about how to handle me is obsolete. I lived and so did my children, so it couldn’t have been that bad. To be shamefully honest, I didn’t take the crazy and antiquated advice I was given by well-meaning, yet out-of-touch-with-modern-baby-handling elders when advice was given to me. For example: If your baby hiccups, he is wet. Um… babies don’t ever stop peeing. Modern diapers draw moisture away from baby skin and can be changed less often than the old cloth diaper and plastic pants days. But yeah… if they are hiccupping, they are most likely wet, because they are always wet, so hiccupping, smiling, crying, laughing… breathing, anything! Another “choice” and totally scientific piece of advice I received was “Be careful not to give your baby too much milk, because milk can turn into a worm in their stomach.” What alchemy can turn milk into a worm? If the milk has worms, they can get worms, but I don’t think we have had a worm problem with milk since Louis Pasteur got involved, if we even had that issue before his tenure with the milk process.

Back to me: I feel like I know a lot about a lot of stuff. I’m committed to the fact that I know a lot about a little and a little about a lot. It seems a waste that people die with a lifetime of wisdom. I want to share what I know before I’m not here to share it, but I don’t want to be that annoying person who thinks they are Walt Whitman coming up with cautionary sage quotes that no one will take to heart until they encounter life fails themselves. So, I’ll just leave a few things here. 1. Bring a sweater, an umbrella and some breath mints. If you have room, a rubber band and Kleenex. 2. If your clothes are wrinkled just get a damp towel and toss the clothes and the towel in the dryer for a little bit. Voila. 3. Use spellcheck. 4. Learn how to pronounce NUCLEAR and understand when to use “imply” and when to use “infer.” 5. Stop giving unsolicited advice, because it’s more valuable when someone asks you for it. They still may not follow your advice, but they heard it, so that when and if the course they take doesn’t work, they can say, “Tracy told me that would happen. Should have listened to her advice.” (I doubt that happens very often.)

Until Next Time,

Your Friend, Tracy