It’s not about me or you. If you’re my friend, I embrace you—your quirks, your messiness, your struggles, and your imperfections. I accept your partner and your children too. While our kids may not always be the best of friends, I genuinely wish them both happiness and success. I’m here to listen to your rants about the challenges of motherhood.
However, my protective instincts kick in when you start criticizing my child.
If our kids are on the same sports team, I would sincerely celebrate any success your child achieves. Truly. If my child has a rough day, it’s not a reflection on you, me, or your kid. It’s solely about my child, and my sadness for their struggles doesn’t diminish my happiness for yours.
I recall when my husband and I were attempting to start a family. After undergoing testing, we discovered we had “undiagnosed infertility,” which felt like the most frustrating diagnosis imaginable. We decided to pursue insemination and Clomid, facing the emotional rollercoaster of hope and disappointment each month. Then came the call—my friend, who was newly married and not even trying for kids, announced she was pregnant.
I had a choice: I could either focus on my own feelings or celebrate her joy. I opted for the latter, putting on a brave face and sharing in her excitement. We laughed, I cheered, and then I hung up and cried. I sobbed, overwhelmed by my own sadness while still being genuinely happy for her. It wasn’t about me; it was about her sharing this significant moment with her best friend. My husband comforted me, assuring me that our time would come, and it did about six months later.
As our children grew into toddlers, my husband pointed out a friend who frequently boasted about her kids’ accomplishments—often overshadowing ours. She would comment on social media, “Oh, So-and-So did that last week!” whenever I shared about my kids. Initially, I dismissed it as typical mom bonding, but over time, it became clear that her intentions were less about camaraderie and more about competition.
It’s disheartening to realize some friends are not truly happy for my children’s achievements. They often compare their kids to mine, even when distance means our children aren’t aware of each other. Some friends, who I once considered close, seem to relish in our kids’ misfortunes while boasting about their own.
Here’s an example: our kids play baseball together. If my child gets a hit and yours strikes out, I remain silent. But if you start making excuses for Timmy’s failure, it’s frustrating. I cheer for Timmy when he’s at bat, hoping for his success, but I don’t gloat when my child falters. Unfortunately, I’ve noticed some “friends” relish in moments where our kids stumble, turning those situations into gossip fodder.
True friends support each other’s children without undermining anyone. They understand that our children’s worth isn’t measured by their achievements. I want all our kids to thrive and become wonderful individuals, pursuing their dreams.
So please, don’t make it awkward. My child isn’t competing with yours—you are.
For more insights on parenting and home insemination, check out our post on the home insemination kit, and visit Make a Mom for authoritative information on fertility. Also, Science Daily offers excellent resources on pregnancy and home insemination.
In summary, it’s crucial to support one another as friends and recognize that our children’s successes and failures don’t define our friendships. Embrace each other’s journeys, and stay focused on the joy of parenthood.