There's no shortage of parenting advice out there. As a new mom you’re inundated with it. After all, it's human nature to want to prepare for the unknown, solve for 'X' and strive for perfection in all that we attempt, right? And parenting is no different, (except for the daunting reality that if we don't do our best, we are potentially devaluing the lives of our children.) So, as a mom-to-be, I was thrilled to discover that I didn't have to look far to find the advice I would need to be the perfect mom, or at least the best I could be. I would glean my knowledge from the experts! Those who had it all figured out, printed, bound and published for my consumption. Formulas already derived and tested, presented in a concise, logical manner, complete with chapter outlines, age timelines, and a handy index at my disposal. So many books out there claimed to hold the key to parenting success. Titles like, Positive Parenting, Courageous Parenting, and the most straightforward of them all...The Science of Parenting. Literature peppered with words like systematic, effective, transforming and breakthrough all seemed plausible if not entirely reasonable to the well-read mom-to-be I was becoming. When my first was born, I felt I had properly educated myself and could face whatever issues came my way. Little did I know that the advice flood gate was now wide open and I no longer even had to look for it, it just gushed toward me with such velocity I could barley stay afloat. It could commence with a simple question, "So is she sleeping through the night yet?" "No, not really" I would reply. And with that simple response, it seemed I had inadvertently signed myself up for the Mommydum Junk Mail List.

At first I listened intently and even appreciated some of the advice, but I soon discovered that, advice is laden with implication, or, at least, it seemed to be. Sometimes it was as subtle as a head tilt or furrowed brow.....hidden message...it worked for me, so I really don't understand why it wouldn't work for you. The intended good all but lost on me and all I could see was a glaring, annoying USER ERROR message blinking at me, forcing me to control, alt, delete and shut down all together.

By the time my second child came along, I had come to the realization that this business of parenting was in no way an exact science and that I was really more of an explorer, constantly searching for the methods and techniques that would work for the time being. My intellect had adapted and I was now relying on good old common sense. The books I had purchased a couple of years before now conveniently stowed away in my nightstand or reincarnated as a coaster for leaky bottles and breast pads on my ever shrinking coffee table. Confidence was eeking back into my life and I had built up my courage, through trial and error; frustrating and sometimes messy shopping excursions, where I had tossed entire outfits smeared with poop into the trash can, and bravely attempted breastfeeding in the backseat of my own car, wedged between the car seat of the infant on my breast and my two year old who was learning the art of corndog consumption.

And then one day, a miracle occurred. And yes, I believe it was just that, because there was no explanation or obvious cause for the exchange that transpired, but it was the missing piece to the puzzle, (although I hadn’t quite realized it existed.) It came out of nowhere and, quite simply, changed my approach to parenting forever.

I had just arrived at the mall to exchange an outfit I had purchased a couple of days before to the local mall. I hadn't had time to try it on that day, but it looked great on display. When I got it home and tried it on it did nothing for me - nothing good, that is. Besides, it was impractical - one of those outfits that you would probably only wear out, which, of course, was probably three years away. So, with my baby comfortably snuggled into his car seat and snapped into my handy stroller, I whizzed through the mall. (My pre-feeding, pre-screaming window was narrowing.)

As I steered toward my destination, I thought of little else but the task at hand. But out of nowhere, my muse appeared. An elderly woman, not more than five feet tall and seemingly unaware of me, or my careening stroller, stepped directly into my path. As I stopped to let her pass by, she took a moment to look at my son, who to my surprise, was awake and not crying. She drew in a deep breath and exhaled the words that changed me as a mommy forever. "Just look at how he's looking at you. He loves you so! You are lucky." She looked up at me and smiled. I stared at her, managing a smile all the while searching for the appropriate response. "Thank you" I said. And then she was gone.

Up until this moment the opportunity to appreciate the love from my children had eluded me. I was so busy making sure they knew I loved them, by searching for the knowledge to be a better parent, to even notice the most primitive, direct form of communication my son was conveying with his gaze.

A simple exchange with a random stranger had provided me with more insight into parenting than all of the free advice or literature out there. In the words of the great and powerful Wizard of Oz, "A heart is not judged by how much you love, but by how much you are loved by others."

Marcy Hello is a former school teacher and stay at home mother of two, Jacqueline and Salem.  Her weekly blog, Hello It's Tuesday, is fresh, oftentimes snarky glimpse beyond the sippy cups and mac 'n cheese we call motherhood.  She has been published online at NPR's This I Believe, as a parenting author at Divine Caroline, and Parenting OC's Sugar Mama Blog. Her favorite downtime activities include reading, cooking and shopping.  She lives in the Austin area with her husband of ten years, Joe.