I’m in The Club. I wasn’t invited into it, nor sent there via recommendation. I didn’t seek it out…it found me. When I became a mum I was automatically signed up, for life.
A chat I had recently with a fellow mum lead me to pause and reflect on this motherhood thing. I had only met her for the first time and yet we chatted, on and on, all afternoon, exchanging stories and views and, most importantly, debriefing about just how hard the parenting gig is. That in itself was enough to stimulate discussion that could have carried on for days on end. We only stopped because it was time to take our boys home to bed.
This Club is exclusively for mums. No amount of money, nor begging or persuasion will permit entry of a non-mother. That’s just how it is. Sounds a bit upperty, perhaps? It’s not, but it is special. The Club offers free, life-time membership (though some might argue that giving birth is a fairly hefty price to pay for the privilege) and unlimited moaning. There are no rules about who to talk to or what to say and there are always free shoulders to lean on, cry on or stand on, if that’s the way you’re inclined.
You see, with mums comes an innate rivalry, from the time of conception – ‘How long did it take you to conceive? Had any morning sickness?’ Pregnant women cannot help but compare their changing bodies to others – ‘I wonder how far along she is? Do I look that puffy? Does my load look that wide? Do I walk that awkwardly?’ Then it’s on to labour and birth – ‘How long were you in labour? Did you have any pain relief? Need stitches? How big was your baby?’ And while those discussions never entirely grow old, the focus then shifts to the actual child – ‘Are you breastfeeding? How often do you get up at night? Does your baby have a pacifier? (just call it a dummy, alright?!) Is she smiling/rolling over/reciting poems?’ On and on and on.
‘Not me!’, you may protest. ‘I am not a competitive person!’ But I challenge you to reflect. It’s not always a conscious thing and not all bad. Whilst these constant comparisons (or ‘quality checks’) can leave you feeling fat and deflated at the same time, they serve many purposes: to normalise our own experience, reinforce our efforts and strengthen the bond we have with our own child. Mummy rivalry can be used for good or evil and whilst the rules of The Club are non-existent, it is hoped that mums will use their membership for the greater good, to provide an opportunity for debriefing, seeking advice and sharing experience.
Motherhood is one of the toughest challenges that exist, so it’s nice to know that there are others out there, battling their way through the gauntlet with you. It’s too easy to judge or criticise a fellow member (because we’re all experts, aren’t we? Especially me…) but the beauty of motherhood and parenting is that there is no wrong or right way about it. I’m in The Club and whilst I have to work tirelessly to quiet the fierce rivalry that simmers beneath the surface of many mummy interactions (I’m afraid a genetic predisposition compounds the mum factor) I raise my right hand and pledge to do my utmost to use my membership for Good. After all, every mum needs another mummy to turn to.
