By Mona from Kirida

When I gave birth three years ago, my mother flew across the Pacific Ocean from Saipan to our Seattle home to assist me in those first few sleep-deprived and chaotic weeks. It was a true lifesaver to have my mom around, to make our meals, do our laundry and keep our house tidy while we were doing our best to be new parents without losing our sanity.

The trade-off though of accepting my mother’s wonderful help was accepting my mother’s bountiful uninvited advice. From the moment we brought my son home, she filled my ears with what he should be wearing (mittens all the time!) to how I should change his diaper (with lots and lots of baby powder!).

Her advice even extended to my role as a wife, even going so far as to write a list of “Mona’s Wifely Obligations,” which included making sure my husband had freshly pressed pants for work, even though he is a GROWN MAN with a master’s degree and is very capable of doing this for himself.

My mother isn’t the only one eager to tell me what to do. There are the strangers at Target who hiss that I should have one of those backpack leashes on my very active child (like, you mean this isn’t a playground? I HAD NO IDEA) or my relatives who survey my tightly fitting pants and blurt out in front of everyone, “Mona, you should just stop eating rice if you want to lose weight!”

I know my mother comes from a place of love, so I follow my own mantra when it comes to any form of uninvited, unsolicited advice: I listen but I do it my way in the end. I pick my battles. It’s more important for me to have a loving, peaceful relationship than it is to be right.

People who offer their advice nuggets are trying to be helpful, despite how I don’t need to hear how random weight loss tips, baby hygiene, or clothing care. I just nod politely, erase from my memory what they just said and stick to what works for me.