Close the Door to Comparison

“When I was a kid, I walked to school uphill, both ways, in the snow.”

Older generations often mock the “easier” lives of their children, but I want to say something different. I unabashedly laud today’s young parents. Because however hard it was for my friends and me when we were young mothers, I believe the men and women raising children now face a significantly harder challenge.

Ironically, the invention that has made your job harder is one that, in many ways, makes life easier: the smartphone.

It’s true that depositing a check through an app is easier than going to the bank. It's true that finding recipes, checking store hours, and getting traffic-aware directions are quicker and simpler than ever before. In so many ways, smartphones save time and effort.

But like all transformative inventions, the smartphone is a double-edged sword—with one blade pointed directly at young families.

The new challenge is simple: too much information.

On the exhausting days when I served yogurt or cereal for dinner, I never saw a photo of someone else’s three-course meal with a perfect tablescape. When my husband and I managed a few hours alone, I didn’t compare it to a friend’s exotic vacation. I didn’t see spectacular crafts, elaborate birthday parties, or themed family outings. So I spent less time thinking about other people’s homes—and more time focused on mine.

My friends and I didn’t spend hours absorbing expert instructions on sleep training, toilet training, or how to handle picky eaters. We spent those hours absorbing our children, their needs, rhythms, and patterns. Yes, we missed some great advice and creative ideas. But what we gained was intuition. Confidence. The quiet knowing that we were doing what worked for our unique children.

We rarely compared ourselves to each other (or to strangers) because we rarely saw what was happening in other people’s homes.

Thousands of years ago, the evil prophet Bilaam stood on a mountain peak, trying to curse the Jewish people. But when he looked down, he noticed something remarkable: no family’s tent door faced another. Out of deep respect for privacy, every household was positioned to face inward. No one could casually glance from their tent into someone else’s. Moved by this, Bilaam’s curse turned to blessing. His words open the daily Jewish prayer service: “How goodly are thy tents, O Jacob, thy dwellings, O Israel.”

Today, we can peer into others’ homes with a tap on a screen—and our homes are poorer for it.

Yes, it’s easier than ever to gather ideas from around the world. But it often comes at the cost of presence. Of focus. Of knowing and tending to your own marriage, your own children, your own home.

That’s why the recurring theme in everything I teach and write is this: you are the expert on your family.

My goal is to help you feel confident and empowered. Not because you know everything, but because you know your people. So don’t waste energy watching what everyone else is doing. Close the door that opens from your home straight into someone else’s. Instead, watch your life. Pay attention to your marriage, your children, your home.

You may never come up with that amazing craft or activity someone else posts online, but your children don’t need someone else. They need you.

If you’re looking for guidance that helps you tune out the noise and tune in to your own family, I invite you to explore my online parenting courses: Nurturing Toddlers, Parenting as Partners, and Leading Your Family to Summer. These courses are filled with practical tools, relatable wisdom, and encouragement to help you lead your family with confidence.

And right now, they’re 20% off for two more days with the code JULY4.

Give yourself the gift of support and clarity. You already have what it takes. These courses are just here to help you access it.