Mommy Rivalry...?

Before I gave birth, I had a slew of friends.  And amongst females, friendly competition is not unusual. 
I've been best friends with Breanna since we were 12 years old (we're 28 now...ugh).  Although the "competition" between us has never been what I would call by any stretch of imagination "fierce," every now and then Envy would rear her ugly head (at least in my case--I can't speak for Breanna).  As of now, a little tiny part of me envies her freedom, for lack of a better word.  She can soak in the bathtub for three hours if her heart desires.  She can jump in her car and ride to the mall.  She can meet up with her friends on a whim at ten o'clock on a weeknight if she feels so inclined.  She has an incredibly exciting and fulfilling career ahead of her as a pharmacist.  The world is her oyster.  I can only sit in the bathtub for a little bit...if I'm not in bed by 11pm, I'm definitely going to be running late in the morning for work (and my Madison waits for no one, I assure you).  If I "jump in the car and ride to the mall," I'm dragging a diaper bag, a massive purse, a sippy cup, a few Yo! Gabba Gabba figurines, and a toddler.  Once I get all of that into the car...well, it kind of obliterates the "whim" factor.  And by the time Maddie and I get INTO the mall, I am quite limited to the time she allots me to shop for me.  If I go out and meet up for drinks on a weeknight, let's just say I won't make it out of the bed for baby or job.  But I digress.  You catch my drift. 

Since I had Maddie, though, I've taken up a couple of "mommy" friends.  There's a couple of ladies that are mind-blowing to me.  I'm friends with these women mostly out of coincidence; they have kids, and so do I, and it's just easier to talk baby constipation with someone who cleans up poop day in and day out than it is with your sexy single girlfriends.  Talking baby constipation with women that don't have babies tend to make me feel...om....frumpy.  Not fun.  And it's hard to shift topic from that awesome deal your thin, stretch-mark-less friend got on her skinny jeans to how your baby peed on you.  ANYWAY!

So there's this "mommy friend" of mine.  I'll call her...Betina.  She is the type of woman who is always perfectly pressed, fluffed, and folded.  Although she is in "respectable" mom clothes (man, I am getting quite stereotypical here; but seriously, it's not okay to be at the park with your one-year-old in a bikini top and short-shorts, with your thong hanging out), Betina always wears statement shirts, skinny jeans, and heels.  If you've seen old Betina at the park, I bet she made you feel like a bag lady.  Her hair is always done, make-up always on, manicure and pedicured head-to-toe.  I get exhausted from laying eyes on Betina.  I always want to ask her what time she had to get up to look like that, or how much her glam squad costs.  For the first three months after Madison was born, I LIVED in sweats and oversized t-shirts.  It was a serious accomplishment if I put on make-up (and with those under-eye circles, I did need the make-up).  Long story short, Betina looks like she's going to model for Elle magazine.  But that's not the half of Betina that most unsettles me about our friendship. 

Betina is always competing with me!  She's always talking about how her baby (a year younger than mine) only eats organic food, and how her child will never EVER have soda.  I remember high-fiving my husband when my daughter ate her first chicken nugget (she's always been an alarmingly picky eater).  Betina's always rambling on about how for the first year, she made her baby's food herself.  She has a son that is two years older than her daughter, and the two of them just get on fabulously (if you ignore the three-year-old trying to choke the life out of his sister).  Betina goes to night school after her boyfriend gets home from work.  Betina has a part-time job as a legal secretary.  Betina makes her daughter's baby wipes in her spare time.  Betina is a Green Mom.  When Betina really gets going, I feel like I'm Jan from the Brady Bunch, and I just want to scream, "Marcia, Marcia, Marcia!"

And it's wonderful that she's amazing and perfect at being a girlfriend, a mother, a legal secretary, a humanitarian, and just generally saving the world one green baby wipe at a time.  I'm astounded that she CAN do it all.  But does Betina have to make me feel inferior because of it?  Because she used to be EXCELLENT at making me feel worthless on the mommy front.  I didn't even know that Mommy Rivalry existed until Betina came along!  She's always telling me what I'm doing wrong with Madison.  It drives me bananas.  I've even gone so far as to pretty much avoid her at all costs because of her need to feel superior. 

Why would you want to be that one to a fellow mother?  Every mommy and every child is different, and each of their relationships is different.  I always think it's so amazing if one mom tells me she potty-trained this way, and another jumps in and says she did it another way (and they both worked).  Mommies have to be superiorly creative to keep ahead of their children (as do Daddies), and if one mommy is handing out advice, I'm all up for listening to it.  Every little thing helps, even if you don't get to use it!  But, to make another mother feel bad? I degrade myself enough, I definitely don't need Betina jumping in pointing out every little thing I've done wrong!!!  It would be one thing if she was trying to HELP me...but smirking at me and telling me that MILK IS ROTTING MY DAUGHTER'S TEETH is a bit much (Maddie's teeth are so far so good; her daughter has been to the dentist twice now (at a year old), and has had three teeth pulled). 

My solace, you ask?  The way my daughter looks at me, like I'm the only person in the world that knows all her answers, like she can't live without me, like no one can make her laugh like silly mommy.  Betina's kids, when they're not trying to take each other out of the game (and I must say, her daughter has caught on awful quick to that little game),  don't smile that much or act silly often.  They're very serious children.  That's just not how I want my daughter to grow up. I want her to have fun, and play in the dirt--not sit on a bench and stare longingly at other children.  If she's laughing, no matter how dirty her clothes are, or how frumpy I look, or how stupid I end up seeming to anyone watching us...that's the ONLY thing that matters to me.  If Maddie's happy, Mommy's happy.  End of story. :)