Keeping Up With The Joneses

When I was pregnant with the Peanut I got a weekly article comparing her size that week to a fruit or veggie. I read up on foods I should and shouldn't eat. I didn't touch alcohol, not even the occassional glass of wine and I limited myself to smoke exposure. I followed every "rule" there was.

Which is why I probably shocked everyone when I opted out of birthing classes and skipped the parenting books altogether  when putting together my registry. I decided if I was paying a hospital staff to "ensure" the safety of my child and I, then I would leave the playbook up to them. If I had a birthing plan and it deviated just slightly at any course throughout my labor I would have been a basket case. So when we brought our blue eyed bundle of joy home I shocked myself the first week when I bought "What to Expect the First year...".

I will say I used the book as a reference and not a guide. Some milestones the Peanut met on the suggested month and some she didn't. I relied on my gut to continue to be my guide. I called our pediatrician frequently and unabashedly asked questions.

I like to think that I don't compare her to other kids but after reading the first few chapters of the "What to Expect the Second Year..." I realize I have been keeping up with the Joneses with her. Unbeknownst to me. I found myself reading the text and thinking so and so's kid is doing that already and she's not or yep she does that and so and so's kid doesn't.

This is habit I've decided to break right here and now (on the bus home, actually). I don't want her to grow up with the stigma of having to be the brightest and best (unless she wants to, of course) because of unnecessary pressure I or we put on her.

So what the kid isn't walking yet. She will soon enough and I will look back and miss the times she couldn't run out of the door the minute it opened. Who cares if she won't hold her bottle. Pretty soon she won't have a bottle to hold. It's awesome that she's talking so soon and can respond correctly to simple questions we ask her, like how old she is. Hopefully those memorization skills will serve her well as she's studying for her Harford entrance exam.

I'm not saying I won't pick up the books again, but I will caution myself each time I flip through page after page. My talking, non-walking, non-bottle holding baby is not a statistic. I will continue to help mold her, introduce new things to her, help her grow but I will do it solely out of love and care. Not because the girl two doors down has a child who can do something she can't.  There will be plenty of other times in her life, unfortunately, where she must fit in a box. I refuse to rush her to that stage any quicker than need be.