It's On

In my former life, I used to walk in to a room full of people and begin to check out other women. It was never a conscious thing (or a sexual thing, much to my husbands disappointment) but my eyes would immediately find the women with the great hair, cute handbags, hot shoes, the perfect dress or that statement belt. I would elbow my husband and say, 'She has the exact boots that I want' or 'Would I look like a wrestler wearing that belt?' or 'Do you think that dress would emphasize the fact that I have the body of a twelve year old boy?'. My husband would respond with, 'Ask her where she got the boots' (not likely), or 'Yes you would look like a wrestler' (fair enough), and 'You may have the body of a young boy but you live life like a Nana, so that levels things out' (...thanks...). I didn't realise it at the time, but this behaviour was driven by an inbuilt competitive streak that every woman has. This streak varies according to a persons nature, their interests, their priorities, stage of life and the people they surround themselves with, but its always there.

When I fell pregnant, things began to change and I started only taking notice of other pregnant women. I became really good at gaging how far along they were, whether they were suffering from morning sickness, whether they were tired and whether they were uncomfortable with their size. I would compare my kankles with their kankles. I would compare my practical shoes with their practical shoes. I would look at their over sized clothes and then at my over sized clothes. Suddenly I didn't care about handbags.

Now, when strolling the streets of Babyboomsville (where I live), my eyes immediately go to other mothers passing with their prams. With a flick of the eyes I manage a quick analysis which can be broken down as follows. My first thought is always to the child in the pram. How old is the infant? What is its gender? Does the child have a freakishly large head or a suspicious amount of hair? (I'm awful). My next thought is a sum up the pram. What brand is it? Is it lighter than mine? How much shopping can you strap on the back before it tips? Did they sell a kidney to afford it? And finally my eyes meet the mothers, where I have a brief moment to establish whether she is getting more or less sleep than. After all, sleep is the biggest win a mother can have over another mother. This process is reciprocated, and whilst the passer by might not have the same fear of large headed babies, she's making her own notes.

Lately, I'm discovering that any gathering of Mothers can be a breeding ground for competitiveness. Forget about prams, nappy bags and all materialistic items, it's all about whose baby is 'sleeping through', using a dummy (and cue the debate disguised as a discussion), gaining weight (the baby's thank god), breastfed, starting solids (cue second debate) and the all important (apparently) reaching of developmental milestones. I personally don't care whether my son rolls at 4 months or 10 months. I assume it doesn't affect what school he gets into or his ability to make friends later in life. I do care that he doesn't become a drug addict or get his highschool girlfriend pregnant. Perhaps later in life I can start the disappointed lecture with, 'first you take ten months to roll, and now this'.

One of the most competitive activities amongst Mothers is 'tummy time'. I've literally seen babies lined up, on their tummies, with their Mums secretly cheering them on. No one wants their baby to be the first to cry, complain or rest their head on the rug. This activity also provides an opportunity for rolling which would be a double win.

I don't imagine this ever stops. In 30 years we'll be sitting around comparing Grandchildren and retirement plans. In 50 years I'll walk into a room full of people and start checking out their walking frames. I'll elbow my husband and say, 'that's the exact seat walker I want. The Voyager 2817'. He'll respond with, 'why don't you go ask her where she got it?'. Not likely.