Parenting: It's Not a Contest

Apparently, I hadn't read all of the parenting books before my first daughter was born. I had no clue that parenting was such a contest until a friend came to visit us in the hospital. Upon hearing about the crazy long labor I'd had and the emergency c-section that followed, she shared her son's birth story, which was similar. Many years after his birth, she was angry about how it had gone, I could see that in her face.

Seeing me sitting up in my hospital bed, exhausted and happy, holding the daughter we'd wished for and dreamed of for so long had obviously taken my friend back in time to revisit her own story. But it took her far, far away from the most amazing thing to happen in my life so far—my newborn daughter. 

I realized that the only thing I wanted to hear about at that moment was how awesome my new daughter was. I didn't really want to talk about how crazy her birth had been or how much pain I was in, I just wanted the world to bask in the awesomeness that was baby V.

My friend couldn't do that, nor could some of the other moms who came to visit. I started to understand the collective nature of parenthood, that I'd now shared something that not everyone gets to take part in—giving birth, and now, in being a parent. Along with the collective experience, I'm starting to see a sort of contest emerge between parents and that's what breaks my heart.

During her first year in school this year, we were invited to a number of class birthday parties. Each one seemed more complex than the last—gymnastics! pottery! bounce house arena! and finally, a movie theater rented out just for the group. As we started to plan our party this year, I felt the weight of these amazing! parties start to build.  Could we top the pottery place? Could we do more than just gymnastics? Would the other kids be impressed with her party? Would having a bigger, better party help her make more friends?

There it was. My sense of obligation to participate in the Birthday Party Olympics—the ever-growing level of grandiose-ness attached to each party had absolutely no impact on how popular she would or would not be. Nor does what she wears or the activities she's enrolled in. No, it's more a matter of having found the right school, one filled with kids who are not unlike her, and a matter of teaching her the skills to find real friendships based on who she is.

And with that, we decided to have a really simple party at our house. We rented a bouncy house, we fed the kids pizza and a cupcake, then sent them home.

On the Monday afterward? She had exactly the same friends she'd had the Friday before.