I have to talk about MNF again. She had her baby – yay! – and he’s healthy and funny-looking in a cute way and everything is great. But I haven’t been over there to visit and give an offering of paleo no-bake cookie balls yet, because I can’t.
Scrolling through instagram, I saw a picture she took of her newborn looking at a black-and-white book and a line about how this is going to get him to #harvard and some other hashtags like #newbornschool, #smartbaby, #homeschool, etc. This was on day five of his life.
I can’t. I’m sorry; I’m just too easily annoyed right now to rise above and be a better human.
Other stuff, too, like here’s what I’m eating for breakfast and it has an avocado on it (#fitmama), or my two-year-old has no feelings whatsoever about her little newborn brother except for true undying love (#siblinglove), or here’s what my body looks like one week after birth (#NOEXCUSES). Her facebook birth announcement included the fact that she only pushed for five minutes and didn’t get any stitches (a post about how this was all due to yoga and coconut oil is in draft form, I assume).
I sound jealous and catty, right? I know!
Just, STOP, STOP. PLEASE STOP. I can’t take it.
I know none of it is real. And, T (hi, T!), you are right, I need to stop following her but I can’t because then I might miss the next opportunity to go completely mad.
Here’s the hard truth of it (it’s obvious to me, too). She brings out this completely awful part of myself, which I guess informs me that this awful part of myself exists in the first place. She’s so competitive that it makes me reflexively competitive. And not in the way that I want my kids to be better than her kids, because, so far at least, I don’t really feel that kind of competitiveness-by-proxy.
What I want is to watch her realize that she knows nothing, that none of us knows anything. She’s made so many public proclamations about her success as a parent (to a not-even-two-year-old) that it’s bound to happen. We don’t have that much control. We don’t know that much.
It’s petty, I’m being petty. It’s the competitiveness coupled with her personal branding as a sort of mom-goddess coach for the unwashed masses that drives me completely crackers. Especially because I know her in real life. It’s all pushing my buttons.
Also I’m due in less than a week and I’m a little irritable these days, probably particularly irritable about kid and parenting things. Hi, everyone.
Ugh, I have to go over there and bring some food.
Image credit: some black and white book for babies. #harvard.