No One is Born a MotherBragger

Casino King of Clubs, Sparks, NV

I grew up an only child of two only children. Think about that. No sisters or brothers, obviously. Also, no uncles, aunts, or cousins. I was the clear choice for center of attention from my parents and two sets of grandparents. What a unique opportunity to have my every accomplishment and nuance noted, exaggerated and exploited by this truncated family. There was no other child in sight.

Yet, somehow my combined lineage created an existence in which my comings and goings were not the primary topic of conversation. I can safely say no one ever had to feign interest in stories of my piano lessons, early reading abilities, or selection to twirl my baton in the downtown Sparks, Nevada, Jack’s Carnival and Parade. I’m not sure my mother even came to watch.

She has since explained and justified her family’s eschewing of a brag in any form as a characteristic of the Welsh, of all excuses — she being a descendant of drunk, pessimistic miners from Treorchy, of Boys Choir fame. On my father’s side, it must have been because my particular type of Jewish grandmother preferred to talk only about herself.  

I came to believe that discussing one’s children in a manner that extolled their virtues was simply not necessary, and in my case, might even be a form of Jewish-Baptist sin. So when I became part of Motherverse, I was ill-prepared. And rather than try to create real or imagined bragging rights for my children, I choose to mostly just listen to the other mothers carry on. This made me an incredibly popular target for Motherbraggers — and incredibly qualified to expose this unattractive behavior.

But enough about me.

From here forward, it’s about you, MotherBraggers across the nation, shamelessly filling every conversation with your tall tales, specially crafted to make yourself feel superior via your children. While us realistic mothers-of-the-exceedingly-average, try to avoid you at the grocery store. And wonder how you got this way. And why there are so many of you.

You know who you are, MotherBraggers. But if you’re not sure, keep reading.