For all my childless friends out there, I’m going to let you in on a little secret. I had no idea about this until I had a baby. It’s a secret most mothers know, but few will admit to. You’ve probably witnessed it, but had no idea how deep this particular ocean is. Men don’t understand it and argue at its existence. I tried to resist myself but have almost been carried away with the tide, going overboard.
Yes, my friends, motherhood is a competitive sport.
I suppose it all begins with the pregnancy. Social media has destroyed every last shred of our privacy, or we have willingly given it up, so there’s the pressure to make some grandiose announcement that you are expecting. Then comes the baby shower which, thanks to the Kardashians, has turned into more of an expectation for a huge party complete with gift bags, rather than some tea and cake celebrating the mom-to-be. I’ll admit I wanted the Pinterest perfect baby shower, complete with a signature drink and monogrammed napkins, but that just wasn’t reality. It takes money to be camera ready.
After the baby’s born, there’s the “baby’s here” announcement, which means you must post a photo that’s both timely and creative, and, nowadays, professional. With the introduction of professional birth photographers, there’s the opportunity to have the biggest day of your lives documented to share with, who else?, but your hundred closest friends and family. You don’t even have to be camera ready… that’s what blurred effects and photoshop are for.
Once upon a time, “keeping up with the Joneses” meant professional landscaping and having a nice car in the driveway. We compared ourselves with our friends and neighbors, but only to the point of what we could outwardly see. We didn’t have a glimpse inside the private moments that we do now. Today we see everything from how many presents our frenemy in high school bought her child for Christmas to what our neighbors five year old son’s birthday party was like. Social media has allowed us to share and overshare, and consequentially has lowered our self esteem and raised our expectations.
Let me tell you friends, the other mothers out there are fierce competitors. Seeing professional photos of other newborns led me to believe I too needed to pay for this luxury. And, it is a luxury. When I was born my parents took a few polaroids and called it a day. Apparently however, there’s a deadline for when said newborn photos should be taken, and at four weeks my baby was past her baby modeling prime. The result was less than stellar pictures that made me feel horrible and my bank account sad. Never mind that I had taken about 300 other photos with my perfectly nice camera, I had failed my first duty as a new mom, to professionally document life.
So, I tried my best to keep up to this self imposed standard of being a good mom. We bought costumes and took photos at the pumpkin patch. We sat on Santa’s lap and paid $40 for the “first Christmas” package. Charlotte had a professionally monogrammed stocking, and I tried my best to fill it with baby appropriate toys. I tried my hand at making my own baby food, blogged about the major milestones, saved every card and note Charlotte received to put into the baby book. Everything I saw other moms do that seemed like a “good mom task” I did. I thought, if I could just have what the other moms had and do what the other moms did I might actually be considered good enough to join the ranks.
Charlotte’s first birthday party was my moment to redeem myself from my shortcomings the past year. I hired a party planner and caterer and almost had a photographer come as well. Almost. My husband didn’t understand why we needed to do one year photos or have a cake for Charlotte that was specifically for smashing in said photos. “Why are we doing this again?” he asked over and over. “What is the point?”
That’s a question I started to internalize after Charlotte’s birthday, once I regained my sanity. What indeed is the point in trying to keep up with other moms? What is the use in comparing? If our child’s birthday party isn’t Pinterest worthy are she still loved? Do we ever do enough? The answer, I have found, is that we will always fall short when we start to compare and compete. As Theodore Roosevelt once said, “comparison is the thief of joy.” With social media I had been able to get a glimpse into the life of mothers around me, and everyone it seemed was on a mission to outdo one another. So I have decided that from this point forward, I will take myself out of the game, and instead love and celebrate my child in a way that benefits us both.
Because no one sees the things that truly make us wonderful moms. People don’t post pictures of themselves reading to their children at night or cleaning up vomit from a sick baby. Friends don’t share late night breast feeding sessions or stories of calming your toddler who’s had yet another nightmare. We are here for our children, and we love them and that in and of itself is enough. Love is enough, and it’s all children need at the end of the day.
The extra stuff, the trips to Disneyland, the princess parties, the baby music classes and swim lessons, well, those are the in-between. These are the things that make an ordinary day just a little more special, but they aren’t what sustain your child. It’s like being able to do a handstand in yoga practice, it’s nice and looks pretty when done right, but not what makes up the whole practice. Friends, you don’t have to be able to hold a handstand to practice yoga.
So I say go overboard if that’s what makes you happy. Professionally document every holiday, buy every hot Christmas present and enroll your infant in a playgroup. Do all that you can. Compete with the other moms for who can throw the best birthday party and go over the top. Just remember in all of this competitive parenting to do it with love and for love. At the end of the day that’s all that you should really ask yourself is, “did I show enough love today?”
Don’t worry there’s always the opportunity tomorrow.
