All mothers love to compare stuff. It’s just in their DNA. It could be something the pregnancy does to your brain during the nine months that makes you go all competitive and crazy, even before the baby is out.
When it comes to finding new stuff to compare, mothers are very creative. It can range from the size of the stomach, the heartbeat of the baby, the weight of the baby and the pregnancy symptoms they get, as if having it worse means you’re somehow a better mother because of the immense sacrifice you’re making.
Some do it subtly.
Mother 1: So which school will you be sending your child to? It’s such a dilemma. I’m considering between Julia Gabriel and Montessori.”
Me (with an obliging smile): I haven’t decided yet, but the public playschool down the road don’t seem so bad.
Mother 1 (affected laughter): Oh, public education! It’s just that some of the kids are a little rowdy, if you know what I mean.
Me: I suppose so.
Methinks: Yes, I know exactly what you mean. And I hope your little brat grows up to be every bit as shallow, self-obsessed and arrogant as you are.
It’s exasperating. I bring my boy for a walk at the mall and I can see mothers eyeing the kind of stroller I have, the clothes Tru’s wearing, the diaper bag I’ve got. And it’s the worst when a whole bunch of competitive mothers gather for a chat. It gets increasingly ludicrous as they go along. Kinda like these mothers on Goodness Gracious Me!
I get that it’s a mother’s instinct to be unabashedly proud of their child, and I can’t help glowing when other people fuss over my kid. But there’s a line to be drawn as far as competition goes and it drives me insane when mothers go on and on about how brilliant their little geniuses are. (You know my 3-year-old boy just learnt to operate on his pet dog).
Get a life, woman! I’m sure there’s some kind of medication to curb those illusions you’re having. Or might I suggest a lobotomy.