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A MILLENNIAL’S POV

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FINDING JUSTICE

FINDING JUSTICE

Pretentious parents – keep it to yourselves

By Kimberly Elliot

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Kimberly Elliot is an associate with a Toronto-based marketing agency.

“He’s waving! Oh my gosh, he’s waving to Gammy!”

These were the words of a happy, bubbly new mom as we stood on the pool deck at the community centre, waiting to get our first mommy-baby swim lesson under way. A group of people brought together who share one thing in common: babies in tow. She beamed, awestruck and proud of her baby as he raised his arm and then lowered it in the general direction of Gammy, who was sitting at least 30 yards away in the pool’s peanut gallery.

The other moms gasped. “Awwww! He’s so smart!” said one, “Wow that’s incredible!” said another. Incredible? Really? “He’s doing everything so early!” happy bubbly Mom said. You see, the swim class registered babies aged 3 to 5 months. This kid wasn’t waving to anyone. “Can he even see that far?” I remember thinking, “let alone pick out Gammy’s face” in the crowd of extremely similar grandparents?

The first two years of parenthood were some of the hardest for me – not necessarily in terms of the actual parenting, but navigating the social realm of parents. There is not a lot to talk about with people at library singalongs, swim lessons or tummy-time play groups. So some resort to the lowest form of parental conversation – percentile charts and growth milestones.

“Is he talking yet?” “How many words?” “How many books a day?”

“He’s in the 95th percentile for weight and 90th for height.”

A passive-aggressive series of one-ups as everyone sought praise and validation from the group.

Eventually I avoided these groups and stuck to walks, parks and picnics with my little guy where there was no more chattering of pretentious parents.

YOU FEED YOUR KIDS DAIRY?

Jump forward a couple of years and I was raising another toddler, who came down with a mysterious and sudden illness at the age of two that included violent vomiting and diarrhea for weeks. Explaining my multiple trips to doctors, sleepless nights and even a stint in the ER for fear of dehydration, I told my fellow moms at my workout class that we finally discovered he had ”secondary lactose intolerance.” Some surprised and confused faces, and then the input.

“Do you feed your kids dairy?” Um, yeah. Tons, actually.

“My kids only have almond milk. Dairy is so awful for your body!” “Yeah” and “it really is” murmured the others.

Then another parent chimed in, “Yeah, no dairy and nothing over six grams of sugar.”

The nutritional standards got progressively more intense and then, “I’ve never even given my kids a Timbit or McDonalds! Although I went through the drive-through once and got them the toys just so they could have the experience.” At this point I’m not sure what to do. Do I clap?

This was how general conversation progressed: A passive-aggressive series of one-ups as everyone sought praise and validation from the group. I’ll spare you the bit where one mom touted how proud she was that her kids ask for essential oils instead of medicine when they’re feeling sick. I threw up in my mouth a little.

HYPNO-BIRTH

Some of my favourites are the conversations on birth. Particularly nauseating are those surrounding ”natural birth.” Moms that swear by their hypnobirth books and the strength of their body, unwilling to quantify the earth-shattering painful reality of it. My particular bone to pick with these stories, though, is the incessant use of the word “natural” – as in, unmedicated, “without modern medical intervention” (yes, I’ve seen birth announcements on Instagram include those words exactly). If you didn’t do it ”naturally,” does it even count? Someone give these women a trophy! They call their birth experience “natural” as if to imply that to have an epidural or (God forbid) a C-section is inherently unnatural – diminishing a whole lot of birth experiences other mothers have, who are no less proud of themselves.

This has been my experience as a mom since first becoming one six years ago. Feeling utterly bombarded by the notion of constant comparison to the pretentious ignoramuses that crowd the common spaces of parenthood today. You have a baby, you’re entered in the competition on day one. It’s a series of percentile chart comparisons and Instagram posts featuring home births and organic pear slices and locally-grown sautéed wild mushrooms – evidence of one’s superior brand of baby-led weaning.

THE UNKINDNESS OF BRAGGERS

Everyone is doing their best. If one’s parenting necessitates a low-sugar, dairy-free diet and organic

Feeling utterly bombarded by the notion of constant comparison to the pretentious ignoramuses that crowd the common spaces of parenthood today.

cotton, vegan clothes – that’s fantastic. If their kid is reading at a second-grade level in kindergarten, bravo – literally. But in my experience people lack self-awareness and their bragging comes with an air of unintended unkindness. Parents say these things because they’re proud but also want validation for the good job they’re doing without realizing that there may be someone in the crowd whose child isn’t hitting milestones on time, who can’t afford organic food or someone whose sanity literally depends on a weekly meal at McDonald’s.

Pretentious parents – keep it to yourselves. Just let the kids play. We don’t need to compare notes. I am sure you’re doing a stand-up job feeding, clothing and loving your kid, just like I am. Let me know if you’re reading something interesting or if there’s a show you’d recommend on Netflix. I’m always up for talking politics and I’d even love to hear what you cooked for dinner so long as it doesn’t involve a story about how you substituted milk, eggs and sugar simply for the sake of telling me you don’t feed your kids milk, eggs and sugar. Let’s all just enjoy the ride for what it is, a fleeting exercise in unconditional love and monumental patience. Appreciate every parent around you because parenting is hard. We’re in this together, there is no winner.

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