I never wanted to be an expert

Are you ever befuddled by all the choices and responsibilities of our modern world?  Think back to the 50s… or even the 80s, back when I was growing up.  We had people who pumped our gas, checked the oil, arranged our vacations, helped us with our banking, and even measured our feet for us.  We trusted our doctors, teachers, and to some extent the news reports.

But these days I feel like I need to be a Jill of All Trades.  Not that I'm against self-sufficiency, you know where we stand on that.  But it's a little overwhelming these days.  Just a few recent examples come to mind.

I finally remembered to stop by the Verizon kiosk at Costco to ask a couple questions about my phone. And then I remembered why I’d been putting it off.  As always, I walked away feeling like an idiot. He was maybe the age of my sons.  He’d never lived in a world without these phones,  whereas I can’t even to wonder what else it can do.  But I felt deflated and like a moron for asking my obviously very basic questions.  I feel like I’ve come a long way though.  I wanted to remind him I was typing papers in high school on a typewriter, years before he was even a thought.  We had phones with cords and cheaper long distance rates on the weekends.  Do you have any idea of how steep a learning curve I’m on?  And I’m relatively young compared to a lot of his customers.

I felt the same way, like a little kid who was getting reprimanded by my teacher, when I took my computer in the other day.  She laid out some of my misdeeds:  I’d taken my Apple computer to Best Buy (where I bought it); didn’t I know they aren’t certified to work on Apples? Then she noticed we’d somehow set our screen saver to change too frequently slowing it way down, we were using Spotify in the wrong mode, and I can’t remember what else.  Good grief.  I felt chastened and old and ignorant.  And like taking notes.

It’s not just technology.  Well, I guess my van counts since it’s all computerized with these lights that show up, but I never know what’s urgent, serious, or just a good idea when a new one comes on.  I feel like that same little kid when I go to get my oil changed.  I have no idea if the air filter needs to be switched out; use your discretion.  It looks dirty to me, but is that dirty enough to warrant buying a new one or are you just taking me? And wipers?  It’s been seven months since we last changed them.  But it doesn’t rain much here.  But it did snow a lot this winter.  I have no idea if I need new ones.  Can’t you just figure out what kind of oil I need for the season and let me eat my ice cream sandwich and read my waiting room literature in peace?  I’m paying upwards of $50 for a 10 minute job; can’t I leave something as simple as my oil change up to you professionals?

I wonder the same thing when I go for a haircut.  Can’t you look at the texture and amount of hair on my head, the roundness of my face, and just figure it out?  You tell me what would look good.  In my little Pintrest squares, the girls all look fabulous. But I suspect they’d look great no matter what hair style you gave them.  How do I translate that to me?  I have no idea if the haircut I think I like is the one I should have. You’ve gone to school for this.  You do this everyday.  You should be able to do more for me than agree with me, I’m paying you $40 to help me for an hour.  I know it’s not that big of a deal, it’s just hair; but you certainly know more about it than I do.  Just work with me.  Or for me.

But no.  Choices abound.  Responsibility for nearly every facet of our lives sits squarely on our shoulders.  Even when it’s way more serious than a phone or a computer.  My friend went to have her leg checked.  The doctor asked her if she’d like an x-ray or MRI.  She asked what he thought.  It was up to her.  As for a treatment plan, that was also up to her.  I get that.  Todd’s always asking his clients what route they want to go with their pets.  But there’s a lot more leeway with pets; you’re allowed to put them down simply because you can’t afford their care or they’re not really doing it for you anymore.  So it’s more about money in the veterinary world; do they really want to spend that much on a back surgery or chemo for their 12 year old mutt?  The human world is a little different; we’re hopefully looking for the best option, not necessarily the cheapest.  There is so much to know about; I wish I could defer to my doctors.

But I don’t feel I can.  In the beginning I did. I took my babies in for their well-baby checks and simply agreed when they told me it was time for their MMRs or Hep B vaccinations.  I assumed they—who had spent a decade longer in school than I had and who had specifically studied the human body—knew what the best course of action was for our kids.  But now I hear moms all the time who are telling their doctors what to do.  One told me baby cereal had too much sugar when we got to talking about feeding her baby solids.  I felt—once again—like an idiot mom.  I fed all my kids that stuff.  I just went off the sheet that told us what and when to feed them.  Now I’m trying to decide which vaccinations to go ahead with and which ones to waffle on with my older kids when I wish I could just have my doctor (who I just paid $267 for an office visit and one shot) tell me what to do.  But there’s no consensus.  Apparently, it’s up to me to tally the votes and make a decision.

I feel like I need to spend my free time as a research assistant. I can’t tell you how much time I’ve wasted reading reviews on everything from coolers to white button down shirts.  Last Christmas I wanted to buy decent thermos-containers for the kids for their lunches, but after days of scrolling through reviews I gave up, more confused than when I began. I’m supposed to know where my jeans are made and under what kinds of labor conditions as well as if the companies are environmentally responsible, best deals on vacation rentals, all the tricks to doing Disneyland, which charitable organizations really use my donations credibly, days and times of the week to book discounted flights and time of year to buy sheets, as well as keep up with the latest in low-carb, high protein diet recipes.  I’m supposed to be informed.  I just feel tired.

And frustrated. Maybe I would like to be an expert.  At something.  Not everything.  Isn’t that why we pay people to represent us, to study and report back to us, to sell us a good product?  I wish it were that way.  But to be honest, I don’t have a clue who to trust.  Not in politics.  Not in medicine.  Certainly not with diets. Or exercise plans. Or skin care. Because the minute I form an opinion, I’m barraged with a million from the other side.

But who has time to become an expert?  Because in the time I’m not researching the best deal on bike repair kits on the computer, I’m supposed to be digesting all those little booklets that come with my phone, the cars, the sewing machine, the blender, the chickens, the lawn mower, the trimmer, and the bees.

But my husband does.  He simply doesn’t care what other people think and doesn’t waste time getting the very best deal.  He also happens to be very intuitive and well-rounded, so he can apply one area of expertise very easily to another situation. In his free time, since he’s not spending it researching couches, he’s become a proficient woodworker, for instance.  He’s done all our trim work and carves spoons, made our craftman-style bed and our tv chest while going through vet school.  He takes his time, learns and then gets to work.  He’s done this with gardening, bees, cows, and fencing lately.  I can’t tell you how much I admire him.  I have so much to learn.

So here’s my three-fold strategy.

I do want to learn.  And so instead of an all-or-none approach (an expert or an ignoramus), I'll up my reading by just a tad.  I'll continue to educate myself, I will. It's not that I'm opposed to knowing more about my phone or computer's capabilities, it's just that I get going and never think to look back and really find out what more they can do. I can do a little better.

I also ask people I trust for their opinions (i.e. my friends) and then I ask the experts what they would do in my situation.  I did this just recently during an oral-surgery visit to decide about a newly erupted wisdom tooth.  He was a friend—as well as the expert, and so I asked what he would do if it was his wife.  He wouldn’t mess with it.  Easy as that, right?  I wish.  But so many times the experts are on both sides of the proverbial fence, leaving me to deal with all the studies on my own.  Super frustrating.

However, my go-to expert is God, and I include him in most of my major decisions (even as I wade through the health-maze, car purchases, new houses, and especially as we raise our family). He always comes through, I’m just not the best at getting the message.  Another area of my life I’m working on becoming more expert with, by the way.

But then I make a decision confidently, and try not to look back.  We went to  Hawaii as a family years ago.  I know we spent too much (I heard all about it when we got back) and did it wrong.  But I’ve decided to put on my blinders to what everyone else spends or did or gets for their money and I just try to be content and at peace with how we did it.  No, we didn’t spend enough time researching used vans from the 90s when we were looking for our first, but I loved having that old green van, it was such a blessing to our family.  Yes, we just bought suits and pants for our missionary at the missionary store.  And spent way too much.  We had no idea how to do it or what he really needed, and we only had a day.  So yes, we paid too much, but we learned for next time.  And had enough time left over for In and Out.  Yes, I went to the jumping place without a coupon.  I know.  I know.  I make these kinds of mistakes all the time.  Somehow people manage to do Hawaii and Florida for like $300, but we’re never going to be that kind of people.  We just aren’t willing to spend that much time; we have so many other things we’re trying to do.  But I just try to enjoy the situation anyway.  (By the way, this is super, super hard for me.)

And then I can put any extra energy into what I really want to become an expert about.  But who are we kidding?  I’m so pooped by the time I get to that point in my day, I’m not sure I want to be an expert on anything.  You?