Milestones, competition and self-satisfaction

As long as he doesn't turn out like Uncle Eddie, I think he'll be alright.

By nature, I'm not a competitive person. I never enjoyed team sports, I would rather make love than war and, though I'm proud to be the reigning champ in my fantasy football league, I'm not exactly heart-broken that I'm 1-1 so far this season, with few prospects.

My fantasy football team name and mascot.

But it's human nature to compare yourself to others, and nowhere is that more apparent or, IMHO, more detrimental than in new moms and milestones. We all know babies and children develop at their own pace. We know there is no "right" age to hit milestones. But that doesn't stop us from cheering our kids on every step of the way, and wondering why they aren't progressing as fast as others.

Harrison is a big kid. He's in the upper-90th percentile in all his measurements, and he is the size of an average 2-year-old. A lot of people assume he's much older than he is. Several times when David or I have been out with him, folks have asked, "Is he walking yet?" "Is he talking yet?" etc. And when we say no, not yet, they give you that condescending pity face and say, "Oh, well, everyone develops at their own pace." Which is code for "My baby is so much more advanced than yours, your poor, poor person." When we explain that he is not yet one year old, they usually have the good grace to be embarrassed.

But even yet, I find myself comparing him to other kids his age. I look at the posts from friends or women in my Edmonds Moms Facebook group, and I wonder, is he stacking up?

As a matter of fact, recently Harrison and I participated in the Make a Wish Foundation's Walk for Wishes, a 5k to raise money to grant sick kids' wishes. I was chatting with another mom of a small child and when I told her he was 11 months, she said, "Mine too!" It turns out they're only 9 days apart. Then, over runs this toddler, with a full head of hair, who goes on to have a conversation with the aforementioned mom about which granola bar she would eat. If that girl was 11 months old, I'm freakin' 21 (sigh). I assume the mom misheard me, but what surprised me was my immediate reaction of disbelief and self-consciousness. Even if she is the same age as Harrison, and just way, WAY advanced for her age, why should it matter? It's not a competition. And yet ...

Honestly, who cares how many milestones he's accomplished when you see this adorable face!?!

This weird pseudo-competition bleeds into other aspects of motherhood as well. With Harrison's first birthday coming up, I've learned that Pinterest is both my best friend and worst frenemy. How the hell can I hope to measure up to the picture-perfect party scenes when I honestly can't remember the last time all our dishes were clean. And the thing is, Harrison couldn't care less about his party.

But the pressure is there, to be that mom. That mom who feeds her kids only locally grown, organic, whole foods (ha ha. ha.). That mom who's home is always at least picked up and doesn't smell like litter box and chicken nuggets. That mom who throws "Pinterest-worthy" parties that are straight out of Martha Stewart Living and seems completely stress-free and serene while doing it.

I am not that mom.

Reality.

I think it's healthy that I can at least recognize when I'm starting to go down the rabbit hole of comparison and remind myself how ridiculous it all is. But I still need to do better. I need to stop worrying about what we're not doing, and start enjoying what we are. Easier said than done. But then I look at my little spaghetti face, happy as can be, and know I'm doing just fine at this mom stuff.