My Kid is Better Than Your Kid

Yesterday I read a great article on Slate about developmental milestones for kids, and how they are really pretty meaningless. All babies develop at their own rate and that's just fine. Children in other countries are even on completely different schedules, simply due to cultural differences. But because of these supposed milestones and schedules, parents start freaking out if their baby hasn't smiled by x weeks or spoken in iambic pentameter by x years.

After reading the article, I gave myself a little pat on the back and prided myself on how I, an intelligent and enlightened parent, have not fallen victim to the milestone marketing trap. Violet is her own person and she can develop at her own rate. I'm not a stage mom, forcing her to do things she's not ready for. I'm not hovering in the shadows, trying to rush her along. I'm just enjoying my time with her, reveling in each precious moment. Except... the reason I can be so blase about it is because she's hitting all the developmental markers right on schedule, regardless of how meaningless that schedule might be. And believe me, I know what the milestones are. I can't help it! Secretly, I'm keeping track. And since she's doing fine, there's no reason to worry. And the stuff she can't do yet - no sweat! She has plenty of time to get there.

Well, that was all well and good lip service until I had a chance encounter with another mom and her baby. And the list of her baby's accomplishments far outweighed my own. Every picture of her child showed a smiling, laughing, head holding up kiddo. (You know how many pictures I have to take some days before I get one worthy of posting every Monday? Thank goodness for digital cameras, is all I have to say!) "Is your baby laughing?" she asked. "Is she rolling over from her back to her tummy? Can she grab her rattle and hold her head up and hit the toys on her bouncy chair?" I practically expected to hear that her son was already potty trained and speaking in verse.

Naturally, the only reason to ask such questions is to brag that your kid can do it. While mine can't. Instantly I made a vow to increase tummy time by exponential proportions so Violet can build up her neck strength to weightlifter standards. I imagined how I would coax her to try rolling, maybe help her along a bit, whether she liked it or not. I'm not going to lie, my competitive nature kicked in. My child had to be as advanced, if not more so, than hers. All that high and mighty talk about ignoring predetermined developmental milestones went out the window as I started worrying about how Violet measured up.

So I'll be working on letting go of my jealousy this week. Working on enjoying life, meeting Violet where she's at, accepting her as she is (and myself as I am). And we'll also be working on tummy time.