There is no mother, except maybe your own, who cares about your kids and what they do.
Don’t gasp in horror. Just accept it.
You don’t really care about Other Mom’s kids either. Not one bit.
(Wipe the slapped look off your face. No you are not a monster. Of course you care care.)
Like if Other Mom’s child ran in the middle of the road you would save them. We all respond in a crisis. We can mother bear anyone’s child. It’s instinct.
But could you really give another shit about what Other Mom’s kid did that was so cute, adorable and unique? And she is NOT listening to your story either sister.
The minute you start sharing little Sally’s latest accomplishments with Other Mom, she will be racking her brain to see how her kids compare. She will be moving her lips and starting to interrupt the second your story starts. You will both unknowingly be fighting for air space to divulge the minutia of everyday childhood trickery. Then like the orchestra on Oscar night you are cut off of your precious speech.
For example:
You greet Other Mom on the playground and are busting a heart-song to tell her (even though you shared it on Facebook too), that little Sally just lost her first tooth.
Other Mom (who saw it on FB and Liked it) says a token “ahhhhh such a big girl!!”
You think she cares? You think she has room in her mind to process your good news? Do you think she is crafting a congrats card for Sally? Hell NO.
Guess what was really going on inside her head when you were blabbing about the video you took and the calls you made to everyone but Channel Four News?
Other Mom was tripping out inside.
Her kid hasn’t lost a tooth yet. She was like “shit, my Susie isn’t normal!” She is wondering why. What is wrong with Susie? How old will Susie be when her teeth fall out? High-school prom with baby teeth? Should she protect Susie’s playground rep and paint the two front teeth black and teach her to lisp?
You don’t notice the panic on Other Mom’s face because you are convinced that this woman is in love with your story. You actually feel you have brightened her day. But you have only warmed your own fuzzies.
Shit, she barely remembers your kid’s name and she was your birth coach.