By Neely Richer 
A cow on our farm had twins today, and it’s rare for a cow to birth healthy twins. This wasn’t any cow, really, but a cow that for years has graced this place with show ribbons, trophies, countless calves, and a soft spot in my farmer husband’s heart. Her name is Diamond, and she has been the most constant and faithful piece of this farm for the last 15 years.
She had twins today, and she did really well. Like a veteran champion mama, she did everything she was supposed to, and she owned that moment.
The reality is that once in a while, a cow will give birth to a calf and then the farmer will have to intervene to help the calf suck, stand up on its own, and then sometimes against all interventions, that calf won’t make it because the mom, from my viewpoint, panics. She disowns the calf, and won’t allow it to suck or to find the nourishment it needs.
However, Diamond was fantastic. She gave birth, she got up, she did her thing, they nursed, and she continued on. I get emotional every time I see this aspect of nature run its course. So many times on the farm, we see various animal mamas give birth and do what nature has called them to do. They do so without pause or thought. They walk into motherhood with a can-do mentality and an independent thought process.
In fact, farmers will often do everything they can to avoid interaction with a new animal so the proper bonding between mother and babe can take place. They walk away, they give her space, they let her make the decisions she needs to make, and they allow her the independence of knowing how to mother.
The point is, as I watched Diamond do her thing, I thought, “She doesn’t care.” She doesn’t care what the mother before her, beside her, or after her does. She does what she has been called to do, and she does it so well. She doesn’t pause to account for all the ways she isn’t doing it right, all the things she could be doing or all the things she should care about that take root in the form of comparison.
She just did it. And I thought, what if we stopped? What if we stopped comparing What if we stopped striving? What if we stopped competing? What if we stopped overthinking? What if we stopped trying to out-do and out-be? What if we stopped?
What if we did whatever we were called to do because we felt called to do it and not because we felt like we were supposed to because we were watching the mom next to us do it? When we stop comparing ourselves to the mom next to us, we allow and open the opportunity for true friendships to form.
I know you can think of the friend, sister, or colleague you have missed out on a friendship with because the competition was just too intense. You lost out on the joy of their companionship and encouragement because they do things differently than you. You lost out on the constant that we moms can be for each other because she feeds her kids something different than you feed yours. She has a different routine. She allows screen time. She spends money. She doesn’t spend money. She works outside the home. She works inside the home.
You see how tiring all this sounds? There is no end. One comparison leads to another, and the reality is the only one you are comparing yourself to is the mom you worry you aren’t.
It’s all so much, and I just wonder what would happen if we just didn’t do it anymore. We didn’t compare anymore, and we didn’t worry anymore about the runner next to us in the race that raising children can be. We bend over, untie the shoe laces, walk away from the race track, sit down on the bench, and welcome the woman next to you to sit down as well. We look at her and say, “It’s really not that big of a deal. I am going to cheer you on.”
It doesn’t matter if the woman next to you feeds their kids kale, and you feed yours French fries. It doesn’t matter if the woman next to you has cut out all dyes, and you let yours pop Skittles after lunch. Your kids may eat in the car, and the woman beside you doesn’t even allow water in the minivan.
The topics separating friendships, community groups, and churches are really, genuinely, small trivial, not eternity-affecting issues. The devil is in the details, and those details are keeping mothers as enemies, not allies.
Let the mom next to you do whatever she needs to do, and stop. Stop caring. Do what you feel called to do, and mother how you feel called to mother. You. Are. Good. Enough.
We can stop it. We can walk away from that track and cheer on the mom running her own race. We send the text saying “You are doing a good job and I am here for you” when the kids are struggling with something yours don’t and the mom is walking a road you may never step foot on. Own your own journey and believe that if we stop comparing, the friendships around us will know no limits.
Your biggest supporter, friend, encourager, and sister is the friend running right next to you. She is the one who will encourage you when the 2-year-old is screaming over everything and nothing. She is the one who will support you when the load is too heavy to carry on your own. She is the one who will meet you at your end and help make up some of the difference. She is the one who will love your kids so well they will start calling her their aunt.
We can learn from each other, we can glean from the mama next to us, and together, we can help raise this next generation.
Originally published on the author’s blog
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