A beauty pageant for moms?

SUPER!

There are so many things to hate in the Mommy Lexicon. Here’s a non-exhaustive and vomit-inducing list. Mommy Brain [related], Mommies’ Night Out, Mommy Juice. Mom Bod, Mom Guilt, Mompreneur. Mommy Time. Mummy Tummy, Mommy makeover. YUMMY MUMMY.

But the phrase I might hate most of all is Super Mom.

Super Mom folds laundry into Mari Kondo squares while the baby sleeps. She gets her “body back.” She mothers littles who would rather craft with their mama then watch any type of screen. She cooks delicious and nutritious dinners without needing recipes, remembers to remind kids about homework, packs extra snacks, crushes her professional career, writes cute notes for kids’ lunchboxes, anthropomorphizes pancakes, throws epic and creative birthday parties, maintains a hot sex life, volunteers for field trips, wakes up at 4AM to exercise, journals, practices mindfulness, makes time for fun with her girlfriends, and obviously has perpetually clean countertops. When someone refers to her as a Super Mom, she is contractually obligated to laugh self-disparagingly and say something about being the “luckiest mama in the world.”

Super Mom is fun, calm, smart, punctual, joyful, nurturing, and most importantly, she is a self-contained entity of Super-ness. The two critical defining characteristics of a Super Mom is her ability to a) do it all, and b) love doing it all. To be extra super, she should hide any clear indicators of effort, struggle, or help.

A reader recently forwarded along this competition, which rewards “one extraordinary woman to take the title of Super Mom 2023. The winner will be awarded $20,000, a 2-page feature in Woman's World magazine, and a weekend getaway in Palm Springs, California!”

How does Super Mom 2023 work exactly?

First, would-be Super Moms must apply. I don’t know what the application entails but I know “at least one” photo is required and obscenity is prohibited. Then, the general public votes in several rounds, ultimately culminating in one lucky lady being [crowned?!] the Super-est Mom of all. A former Miss World is involved too, although the extent of her involvement is unclear. “Victoria will guide competitors to help them become the 2023 Super Mom.” Which competitors? What kind of guidance? Is there a sash?

Here’s one potentially Super Mom’s voting page, which I could only find by reading comments on the Super Moms Facebook page. You can cast a regular free vote OR you can cast a “hero vote” with your credit card, donating an amount of your choosing to Children’s Miracle Network’s Hospital.

Despite spending a not insignificant time on both the website, the Facebook page, and the Instagram account, I can’t find a central virtual spot to peruse the various Super Moms, so I assume the only way to win the Super Mom pageant is to have a huge network of people through whom you might gain votes. Or to answer the three Super Mom questions in a fashion that best demonstrates adherence to ideals of Super Motherhood.

votesupermom

A post shared by Super Mom (@votesupermom)

The premise of this whole thing is that “all Moms are Super.” And that this competition is “all about mom.”

But is Super Mom really “all about mom?”

Or is it simply a fundraising event aimed at moms desperate to believe that their work matters? Moms deprived of systemic support or cultural validation wanting to feel seen? And unless we personally know someone competing, how are we, the voters, determining each applicant’s level of superiority? I might also ask, WHY are we voting on each applicant’s level of superiority?!

Two of the three questions asked of all Super Mom applicants center their kids ( What is one memory of your kids that you will never forget? What is one life lesson you teach your kids?) and the third question (How do you treat yourself after a long day of #momlife?) is straightforwardly capitalizing on the current trend of hashtag self-care.

Reading some of these moms’ applications is like walking the aisles of a grocery store (or SUPERmarket?!) stocked with expectations of ideal motherhood.

Here are some excerpts.

“Being a mom to me is the most important job.”

“Challenges will make you stronger!”

"Be the better person."

“Be your authentic self. Have a strong moral code. Put in the hard work and challenge yourself.”

“With each new day there are new things to be thankful for, as well as a new set of unique obstacles. All I have to do is see my children smile to know we can conquer anything!”

“Every moment is a treasure.”

One of the moms currently in first place in her voting bloc wrote this in response to the questions, “How do you treat yourself after a long day of #momlife?”

To be honest, I don’t. I don’t ever treat myself with a day of treating myself. After I tuck my kids in bed, I read them a story, we say our bedtime prayer, then I pray over them, and tell them goodnight!

Another one said this: “Go to bed late after the house is picked up a little bit.”

What I’m trying to say is that Super Mom 2023 makes me sad!

I don’t know how many people are COMPETING to be the Super-est Mom of all, but I’d like to think that if these moms’ lives were meaningfully supported in any way, they might not be so eager to ask friends and strangers to validate their maternal goodness by means of virtual votes or to answer a few condescending questions about their lives in an attempt to win the time-honored title of Super Mom and a weekend away from their [beloved, cherished] children.

There’s a reason I’m not being asked to compete in a Super Writer competition or that hedge fund managers aren’t being asked how they “treat themselves” after a “a long day of #hedgefundmanagerlife.” There’s a reason Children’s Miracle Networks Hospitals aren’t holding a Super Dad pageant. Despite most writers being severely underpaid, they are at least (for the most part!) deemed worthy of cultural respect. Hedge fund managers have access to not only (for the most part!) cultural respect but also financial respect. Dads, despite being nurturing, involved caretakers (sometimes!) are not expected to do it all nor are they expected to love it all. Writers, hedge fund managers, and dads, in other words, are not systematically made desperate to the extent that mothers are.

As mothers in the US, our work is neither paid nor respected, but we can at least depend on one thing, an entirely hollow and utterly meaningless exhortation that we are Super.