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| Maybe our impression acting like a good mama should has changed over the last 60 years, but comparing to an outward ideal is an age old problem |
I have the horrible
habit of comparing myself to other moms in the worst way. I tend to look at
them and decide they’re living, looking and momming like a good mama
should. For example, a few months ago, I was shopping at Trader Joe’s when I
saw a woman whom I can only describe as the perfectly boho chic organic mom.
As I tucked my extra baby weight under the waistband of my jeans
that still didn’t fit right, she wandered gracefully through the store in a
cornflower blue strapless, seersucker romper/jumpsuit. Her healthy one-year-old
son was comfortably situated in her spotless Ergo baby carrier, whereas my 5
month old (who was really small for his age) coated my hand-me-down carrier in
even more spit up. I had pulled my hair into a sloppy ponytail to keep James
from yanking on it, while her flowing blonde hair looked like it was
professionally blown-out. At the checkout counter, she mentioned that they
would be going to the pool later if the weather remained nice. She sipped her
Kombucha and with her perfectly slender and toned arms, reached for her
groceries from the shelves with ease, and I judged her hard.
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| Heidi Montag, circa 2007 |
“Thanks a lot for
setting an impossible standard for me, pre-plastic surgery Heidi Montag! Thanks
for being tiny and strong and in shape and for doing fun recreational things
with your son, all while demonstrating a disposable income that I don’t have
but wish I did!”
I caught myself in
the act, apologized to her in my head, and called my sister in fits of laughter
to tell her about what I had done.
Today, after having lost the baby weight and getting some new, cute fall clothes that I feel great in, James and I tried out a music class in town, and I fell into the same freaking traps. I had forgotten to put on my engagement ring before leaving the house, and immediately felt insecure sitting next to a very kind woman whose ring was big enough to sink the Titanic. The trial class was free of charge, but we weren’t sure we could spare the full fee for the other 9 sessions, yet almost every other family in the room had been involved with these classes for years. And while I had used our stroller to keep James dry from the rain, the all of the other, better mothers carried “wore” their babies under their jackets, snug to their hearts like a good mama should, even if they had older children to tend to
Back in Trader
Joe’s, I thought the root of my judgment and insecurities was my
sloppier-than-typical, plump appearance (and accompanying self-pity), but
today, I realized that it has much more to do with the condition of my heart.
Here’s the gist: As long as my heart is rooted in comparing myself to the
world’s standards, I will never be truly satisfied. Why? Because my heart is
not made for this world, and the only judge that truly matters won’t hold me up
to the world’s unwinnable, exhausting standards.
I desperately need to lose the weight of the sin of pride
and unjust comparison! I need to re-root my heart in the Lord because this
comparison is evidence that it is bound to the wrong things. How do I plan to
do this? Daily prayer in the mornings, regular Reconciliation and
accountability with my hubs and my sisters in Christ. Thank the Lord for the Lord!!
Thank you Jesus for
this clarity on a rainy Monday. Imma lift my eyes to Heaven like a good mama
should.
