They say that they key to happiness is not comparing yourself to anyone else… or at least not with someone who is in a situation much better than ours. We could think that if we do it backwards, with someone who is in a worse situation, it could work. But after the bliss explosion, satisfaction and thankfulness comes guilt, pity and even remorse. So in the long term, it will always be better to not compare yourself, not looking neither up nor down. I have it clear, but be careful, having it clear doesn’t mean I do it. I don’t have to repeat to you guys that I am a mom, in other words, I preach things that I don’t apply, I teach things that I don’t know, I cook things that I don’t eat and I demand things that I don’t do. Since that first day that we make public our pregnancy the comparisons start, almost always (not to say always) hateful.




“She turned so ugly, porky and full of rashes.”

“I didn’t fatten as much as her, she must have her belly full of stretch marks”.

“She’s gonna have him at a clinic, with a professional doctor, anesthesia and if something goes wrong they’ll do a cesarean section; she’s so weak”.

In the universe of “mommies and daddies” (how vilely teachers and nurses insist in calling us) if it wasn’t for comparisons there wouldn’t be any topics to touch with other “mommies and daddies” for sure.

“Mine can pass a night strait, doesn’t yours?”

“Mine walked when he was 9 months old, didn’t yours”

“Mine stopped using diapers, feeding bottle and even spoke when he was that age. How come yours doesn’t”

Obviously, and luckily it’s something worth saying, for each mom there’s no better child than her own. We know there are more cute, compliant, intelligent, sympathetic, less weeping and even so, don’t ask me why, no one will be better than ours. That might be why the majority of times instead of being compassive with other moms, we prefer to brag and even lie to feel that our role is being executed better.

“Since the third month we don’t know what it is to wake up at midnight”.

“Off course, we actually had to catch him up because if not at the 8th month he would run a marathon”.

“Please, mine already started taking mandarin classes but german is still his favorite”.

My self, like all others, have bragged, exaggerated, omitted and lied making Lolo show off. But one day I gave up, decided not to respond to my “opponent” with more maternal musings and discovered that we are all the same. The only thing we want to know is if we are messing up or doing it well and in order to do that we need to compare ourselves.

Jonnie Doe (the real name has been changed to protect his identity) eats everything. He loves all fruits and veggies.

“Awesome, but Lulo (his name has been changed as well in order to protect his identity) doesn’t like fruits or veggies, we haven’t been able to change that.”

“Okay, Jonnie Doe doesn’t eat all of them. He sometimes accepts to receive mango or banana. But not always and it’s a quarrel. And veggies have to be cooked and hidden in a piece of meat. Well, I always end up complementing with a feeding bottle in order to nourish him”.

Things being like that, as a social labor I have decided to confess my truths so that when you compare with me: look at me with a snobbish face, conmmiserate me or, even better, relax yourselves: Lorenzo walked when he was 13 months old and not before, he still wakes us up at dawn, the majority of those wake ups I take him to my bed, he still asks for a feeding bottle to sleep at night, only says “mamá, papá, tete, pepa and amapatacamaatapita”, which I haven’t been able to figure out its meaning; he is sometimes so restless and rowdy that he makes me feel embarrassed with guests, he doesn’t like fruits, it’s a true odyssey to change his diapers and he asks for most things with a little, constant and exasperating weeping similar to Chewbacca’s.

However, I do have to recognize: Since he was 2 months old, my son poses for pics, doesn’t yours?

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