Sometime ago, a good friend of mine was expecting her first baby and was hanging out at my house one afternoon. I had just finished making cookies with my oldest and we were on to a different craft to kill some time. We had spent most of the afternoon together, and at one point she said "I need to spend more time here, I need to learn how to Mom from you."
That has stuck in my head for a long time. How to "mom" - not how to cook, or how to teach, or how to craft, but instead that new verb seemed heavy with expectation. Expectation that she, and so many other mom's had put on it to embody some kind of perfect mother. Some kind of mother that she wasn't able to be already as she is - that there was some right way to do it that she didn't know.
Since the advent of Pinterest, Facebook, Instagram and the million other ways that parents share and exchange victories, triumphs and crafting cohorts, it seems impossible to avoid the constant competition for parenting prowess. It is the vehicle that is shaping what we, as parents, perceive as the "perfect mom" or the woman who can do it all.
Whether she stays home full time, or works full time, this internet culture has created the idea that there is some mom out there who is "doing it all" and that in case you aren't, there is a mom out there with a blog, ready to tell you her strategies to make it work. The thing is, there is no more a perfect mom on Pinterest, any more than there is a perfect cookie recipe.
Perfection is all in perception. This is what I learned when I became a class mom.
Now, before I go on, I have to disclose the fact that I happen to fucking love Pinterest. I was one of the first ones on it - it launched when I was writing curriculum for a preschool of over 100 kids (after nearly 10 years of teaching). I dove in head first - spending hours in my office scouring for new ideas for the kids at school and saving pins to perfectly sorted boards. I love to craft, I love to cook, and I love to photograph things, and oh yeah, I love my kids (both my students and my own).
When I had my oldest three years ago, I didn't feel unprepared or overwhelmed by all the knowledge I didn't have, like so many new moms can. I knew about SIDS, the latest safety standards, different discipline methods, weaning babies on to food, sleep schedules, developmental milestones, the list goes on and on. I didn't know because I'm a better mom, I knew because it was my job, I was a preschool teacher. For almost a decade it was my job, 40 hours a week, to know the ins and outs of caring for little ones.
Despite that, when he started preschool at 18 months, I was suddenly crippled by high-school level insecurity like I was the new girl in the cafeteria - on his first day I felt like I was Cady walking the plank into the cafeteria right into the jaws of Regina George. The thing is though, I did that to myself. No one was mean or unwelcoming, I just walked around in my own cloud of perceived flaws for almost a year - only befriending the teachers because I felt like they were my peers instead of the other parents.
This year however, the director of our wonderful school, volunteered me without my knowledge or consent (haha) to be a class mom. That changed everything. When I walked over to the Head Mom's house for our first coffee-get-together, I felt like I was about to be devoured by Regina, Gretchen, and hell, probably Janice Ian too. To my surprise, after sipping on a cup of coffee to ease my nerves, these moms were hilarious, and I just blurted out, "I'm so glad you guys don't suck." I have a real knack for social grace, by the way.
Everyone laughed, a seriously relieved, knowing laugh. Then another mom piped up, "Oh my god, me too!" and before we knew it, we were talking about how nervous we had all been and how glad we were to find that everyone was actually nice. In the months since then we have all become pretty fantastic friends - and instead of forming a clique that makes us feel safe and included, because we started with that unexpected honesty, we seem driven to find ways to make all the parents at school feel included. We talk about ways to open up lines of communication to new families to the school, how to reach the moms who just had babies and might be hermitting at home and missing out on things at school. It is an incredible feeling.
None of this is what I learned though. It's great, for sure, but not the most important part.
The most important thing is I have learned is the vast diversity in the idea of perfection. This group of parents is one of the most diverse, and honest, groups of women I have had the privilege to be friends with. No one of us is prefect and we are all insecure about our parenting in some way. We all have an idea of what we think we should be in our heads, and its often something we feel we are lacking, when we are so quick to overlook what we are great at.
Nobody is perfect.
These moms are so many more things than moms; they are realtors, lawyers, florists, socialites, fashonistas, cooks, designers, doctors, politicians and hell, some aren't even moms, they are dads. The things that make us all unique as people and valuable to society for different reasons, are also what make us different, unique and valuable parents. I learned that being a mom is what brings you together, but getting to know someone and having a conversation beyond your children and your parenting is what makes the difference. I learned that while you may not end up liking everyone, the only way to know for sure is to make the effort and see whats there beyond Mom - have conversations about anything other than your kids, school, or parenting. Become friends, and then the door is open to asking for advice, not doling out unsolicited judgement.
It doesn't really matter if you make dinner every night, or have an elaborate birthday party, or make things from scratch, breast fed or bottle fed, co-slept or sleep trained - none of those things are going to determine what kind of adults our children become. Its more likely that what shapes who they become is the people around them and what they learn from them. I learned that if you start looking at being friends with other parents this way, it can change a whole lot.
You don't have to be a "type" or fit into a cute label. You don't need to be a hippie mom, or a crunchy granola mom, or a baby-wearer, or an attachment parent, or a lazy parent, or a working parent. You can be all of those things, or none of them. The point is that you learn from your experience and can share it with other moms by sharing your time - NOT your comments on some article online (unironically, like this one).
We have a tendency to provide excuses for people to prevent judgement - articles that implore you to remember that "maybe that bottle-feeding mom couldn't produce milk" or that mom with a stroller "has a bad back" or that mom doesn't socialize because "she might have postpartum depression." The problem with that type of thinking is that it inherently says that there is still a "right way" and that her choices aren't good enough, and that a mom needs an excuse to be accepted for simply being who she is. So hear me on this, you don't need an excuse or a reason to be yourself and to parent the way you feel comfortable.
What we learned as a group, was instead of watching that new mom struggle at school with her baby seat and toddler, offer to hold the baby seat while she gets her older one strapped in - but don't do it while saying "You know, I wore all my babies and this was so much easier" - just offer to stand there, quietly, and then say Hi every day. Then invite her to coffee. Then be her friend.
Raising kids does take a village - be part of it. Use these social opportunities to teach our children compassion, acceptance and tolerance - the only things in this world stronger than judgment.
Thank you to all the wonderful parents and friends, new and old, that show my family so much support and love.