You are only as good as the company you keep.

I have met quite a few people through this blog.

Some really awesome people, in fact.

And I have become good friends with a handful of them.

One of my new friends is quite possibly the kindest and most thoughtful person I know.

Ever since I “met” her when she wrote that first comment on my blog, she has been looking out for me.

She has helped me with my website.

She has sent me cards on holidays because she knew it would probably be the only one I would get (and she was right).

She has thought about my children, and has stealthily dropped off things at my house for them to wear.

Or play with.

I’m making her sound like a little bit of a stalker.

But she’s not.

She’s just,

well,

awesome.

And yesterday her awesomeness became even more apparent when she posted a picture of a poodle skirt she whipped up for her daughter after dinner last night.

Yes.

A poodle skirt.

After dinner.

It was really fucking cute.

And impressive.

And it really pissed me off.

Instead of thinking,

Wow! That is amazing! What a wonderful talent to have!

I thought,

Ugh.  What a bitch. And what an annoying talent to have…

Because I don’t think I can make a poodle skirt.

Not like that one, anyway.

Instead of recognizing her talent,

and gift,

I  immediately felt threatened by it.

Why do we moms do that?

Why, instead of celebrating all of our diverse talents,

do we compare ourselves?

And put ourselves down?

Number 4 is not an easy sister to grow up with.

She is smart.

And confident.

And pretty.

And good at just about everything.

Except for dancing…

Anyway,

Number 3 sometimes struggles with this.

He is constantly comparing himself to her.

And feeling threatened by her gifts.

When he has so many gifts of his own.

I have had many conversations with him regarding this issue.

Some people are good at some things, and some people are good at other things… we all have our own special talents.

Here I go again,

not practicing what I preach.

And allowing myself to forget what all my special talents are because of…

a poodle skirt.

I am a good mom.

Even if I can’t make a poodle skirt.

Or a leprchaun trap.

Or a lunch made out of vegetables that looks like Bert and Ernie.

I can do some pretty impressive shit myself.

The fact that another mom can do something equally impressive,

but different,

does not immediately make me a failure in the mom department.

And how shitty of me to try to make another mom,

struggling with the self-doubt,

and insecurity,

and guilt,

and all the other stress-inducing things that go along with being a mother,

feel less than fucking awesome about something pretty amazing that she can do.

And so, 12 hours later, I would like to say what I should have said last night…

That skirt is really fucking cute! And you are really fucking talented.

And I continue to be both impressed and surprised by you and your awesomeness.

And I’m sorry for not broadcasting that to, well, everyone.

And I am really glad to have you as a friend.

And I hope that cute daughter, in that cute skirt, realizes how lucky she is to have the mom that she does.

You are one special lady.

Having you and your talents in my life doesn’t make me a worse mom.

It makes me a better one.

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