Lesson #33

Once again we've reach that time of year where I like to take a step back and think about all that I have learned over the past year. After all, what is the point of getting older if you aren't also going to get a little wiser in the process? There is nothing more frustrating than people who don't learn from past experiences. With that in mind, let's get to Lesson #33.

Lesson #33: If you don't have anything constructive to add to a conversation, don't force it.

As you know, big events seem to hit your social circles in waves. First comes the wave when it seems like everyone gets married at the same time, then the wave when they buy a house within six months of each other. Well, I'm at that stage of my life where several of my friends and former co-workers have entered the baby wave. Now, often the chance to for an experienced parent to give a few tips to someone who is about to embark on this journey for themselves would be seen as a good thing. However, there is a right way to give out advice and a wrong way. The first thing people need to remember is that just because something happened to them one way that doesn't mean it will happen to everyone that way. In fact, the odds of two humans experiencing an event in the same way are remote at best. Any parent with two kids should simple notice how totally different their kids are before thinking about offering advice on behavior. Every person is different, which means every experience is different. You can't even get two people to give a restaurant the same review, so what are the odds they will have the same thoughts on a complicated issue?

I'm not even the person they are talking to and I get annoyed when I hear one parent say to another, "Oh, by that age out kid was walking." Good for you, but this is not your kid. It is a totally different person, raised my totally different parents and growing up in a totally different environment. As such they shouldn't be measured by your standards. Rather than try to put your kid up on a pedestal put knocking another person's down a peg, why not just listen to them talk about their kid for a second, because that is all they really want you to do. Look, I get why we do this - there is a ton of money to be made in telling other people how they should be living their lives. And parenting advice is the worst of them all. Go into any bookstore and you'll see shelves upon shelves of books about what benchmarks your kid should be hitting and at what age. And, because I like books, I recommend every parent read as many of them as they can. Then, take them out into the backyard and have a bonfire, because none of what you just read will apply to your little bundle of joy... ever... so you may as well get some toasted marshmallows out of it.

But, lest you think this is a parenting blog, this phenomenon of speaking without being able to add specific information to the conversation is not exclusive to that kind of situation. In fact, it is in every facet of life. Have you ever looked at a cook book when it tells you to bake something at 400 degrees for 30 minutes but then throws in the line which says, "cooking times may vary depending on oven brand and altitude"? What that sentence really means is, "Yeah, I don't actually know how long this should take, so just keep checking on it periodically." As soon as any directions start to tell me why my situation could potentially be different from how it is normally done, I pretty much stop paying attention because that means there is no such thing as normal. If there is another way to do it than there is no guarantee that the path this company has decided on is actually the best way to do it. Chances are above average that they picked the shortest path because it saved on printing costs. Besides it really is about the result, not the process. (Cue the sound of my father bashing his head on a desk because none of his children ever bother to read directions.)

What this really boils down to is the fact that people, whether through personal interactions or company directions, feel this insatiable need to steer to a conversation, even when they don't have anything constructive to add. As a result, they try to shoehorn their own experiences into the conversation, whether those experiences apply to what people were talking about or not. I know that, as a know-it-all, I am constantly struggling not to insert myself into a subject even when the more polite thing to do would just be to listen. This past year has been spent constantly reminding myself that conversations are not meant to be contests. If you wait long enough the conversation will shift and hopefully you will have more to say on the next topic (and if the conversation doesn't shift you don't want to keep talking to those people anyway).

Birthday Song:
By now I assume you know how this works. The first song I hear on my birthday is supposed to be an omen for how the year is going to go. The more I like the song, the better I expect my year to go. Also, this one seems to have a strangely appropriate title.

Previously:
I turned 30.
Then I was 31.
Then I turned 32.