Humble Brags & Parental Jealousy

So I witnessed something that intrigued me the other day while scrolling through one of the many “mom” groups I am a part of (I’m a glutton for punishment and gossip I don’t have be directly involved in 🤷‍♀️) and the discussion I witnessed has stuck with me the last few days. The post was something along the lines of “What humble brag posts annoy you the most?” Simple enough. Short, to the point. Confusing. We’ve all seen posts made by other parents that often lead to feelings of worry, jealousy and annoyance, but why?

When another mother posts “my 8 month old says 40 words” (not a thing that actually happens, trying to prove a point) or

“my 3 day old sleeps through the night, should I be worried?” Or

“My 2 year old knows all of the species of exotic birds in their native names”

ok, you get the idea… when we see these posts, a baseline reaction is confusion at how any child could possibly pull any of those things off. Then the comparisons start. Your precious angel hasn’t slept through the night maybe ever, your 5 year old is non verbal, your toddler doesn’t even know that birds are a thing that exist because he’s busy taking all the tires off of his toy trucks. Why doesn’t my kid do insert awesome rare desirable thing here ? Some parents move on after reading such humble brags, but some, more often ( judging from the comments on the post I was following) jealousy kicks in. Jealousy of another parents children is common and normal. Everyone wants the best for our kids and everyone expects a certain amount from our kids. We want them to walk and talk and share, we want them to have manners and be kind and only listen to mommy when she’s not saying bad words when she drops her lunch on the floor (yesterday was hard.) But when someone else’s child meets those goals first, or meets and exceeds them, while your own has perhaps settled on a particular skill and is lagging behind in others we can feel discouraged and frustrated.

It’s like parenting has morphed into some online competition of who’s baby does what faster and better and first. We realize these are babies right? Anyone? Babies! They are not Olympic competitor’s, they are not competing for the same job, they are not battling in the Hunger Games in a life or death race to say “Dada” first. Feeling salty that your sister in laws child is stronger than yours at this particular moment in time does nothing except taint your parenting experience and your relationship with other parents who might otherwise be of great help or support.

Another issue with this feeling of anger and inadequacy is that no one is addressing the elephant in the room, your child might be developmentally delayed, be on the spectrum or just be in a phase of physical growth which can often slow mental development temporarily while their little body grows. Relax. Each child will do what they need to in due time. Some will have a higher vocabulary, some will be able to head butt you so hard your nose breaks, some will have cool dance moves and a taste for colorful music, no matter what, they are growing and they will get there. Harboring this lingering angst is nothing but trouble.

Lastly, let them brag! Just because you are having a hard time with sleepless nights does not mean someone else should be silent about a major feat of having a full nights sleep with a child! Just because your toddler only wants to eat cereal (been there) does not mean someone shouldn’t share the exotic spicy/salty/veggie filled recipe their toddler loved! Let them be happy and enjoy their own experience! Find what you love about your own parental experience and relish in it, trust me, it’s much more fun.

Finding Purpose in the Mundane.

What do you do when your life has seemingly no purpose other than to carry out the domestic art of parenthood or participate in the work/home rotation that goes round and round with no end in sight.

What do you do when your goals become clouds of smoke wafting about in the rafters of your mind, dissipating slowly, fading more and more with each load of laundry, in the washer, in the dryer, in the basket, gold, hang, soil, repeat. Any bit of your self put out with the wash. 

As everyone does, I had dreams at one point, as a child I wanted to be an architect, I sketched hotels and clubs, homes and B&Bs down to the last piece of crown molding in countless notebooks. That dream molded into a real estate broker, a painter, a teacher, a gymnast, an inventor, then I became a mother, and my lofty dreams formed into something new. My old goals remained there, in the hollows of my memories, but a new goal took the forefront and that was to be a good mum. And I believe I am, most of the time anyways (we all do our best) but really, who am I? I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up. Do you? Where did the time go? Where did the architect go, the rolling gymnast, the kindergarten teacher? Why did I let them leave, to be replaced by a sink full of dishes and an unused college degree. 

When all is quite, and my babies are sound asleep or focused on a new Lego invention or block tower, I drift into the hope that maybe there’s something more I can offer still. Nothing in the world could ever be more important to me at this moment than being a good mommy to these kiddos, but I am a mother, and simultaneously an ambitious woman. I can be both things, anf I believe most of us are. There is a hunger there that will never truly quite no matter what we feed it. Nothing can stop that part of us that wants more, reaches for knowledge and experiences, for power and friendships and the things we have been deprived of while doing our present duties. 

Round and round we go, the things we do in the space in between are important in there own way. Diapers need to be changed and driveways shoveled, tiny handprints scrubbed from bathroom mirrors and car tires rotated. All of these mundane daily tasks are needed and make a positive mark in the timeline of our lives as we find ourselves. They give us temporary distractions, excuses to delay the future and sometimes change we aren’t ready for. I hope that someday I’ll know what to do with myself to quell the need for what boils down to a desire for an official title, a job label, a career, but for now, I will rock my babies and scrub the baseboards and dream of what I want to be when I grow up.