I have decided that whoever first said “it takes a village” must have been trying to get three children to three different places at the same time.
One needed to be picked up. One needed something washed that she had laying on her bedroom floor for about a week but chose to mention that morning. And one was standing in the kitchen asking for a snack while her mother tried to finish a work email.
That person understood some things.
I think often about how grateful I am to have family and friends I can count on. Then I think about the parents who don’t, and I honestly wonder how they manage. I wonder who they call when work runs late, a child gets sick or the plans they spent all week organizing fall apart before breakfast.
Because I love my children with everything in me, but I have yet to figure out how to drive in two directions at once!
I work from home, which sounds very convenient until you realize both the work and the home expect you to be fully available. An email still needs an answer. Supper still needs to happen. Someone still needs a ride and a child who can walk past an older sibling, a refrigerator and several perfectly good snacks will still come find Mama.
Usually while Mama is on the phone…
On paper, a day can look manageable. I can line up the appointments, the pickups, the activities and the deadlines. I can even leave myself a little breathing room, which is generally when someone remembers they need a poster board…
By tomorrow! So, you can get ready to pull an all-nighter!
Those are the days I am especially thankful for my people.
The person who answers when I ask, “Can you grab her for me?” The one who keeps a child a little longer without making me feel like I’ve caused a major inconvenience. The family member who knows our routine well enough to step into it. The friend who lets me explain why I’m overwhelmed, even when I’m explaining it badly.
There is a particular relief in knowing that if something happens, I have someone to call. Sometimes I can feel my shoulders drop before the conversation is even over.
And the help doesn’t always involve going somewhere or doing something. Sometimes it’s having another adult remind me that I’m tired and need to eat before I decide I have failed at every part of my life.
Sometimes it’s hearing, “Mine did that, too.”
I hope I remember to thank those people enough. Help can become so familiar that we forget what an extraordinary thing it is to have someone make room for our children in their own busy lives.
A pickup means rearranging a schedule. Keeping a sick child means changing plans. Answering a worried phone call means giving time and attention when there are probably dishes in their sink, too.
My children benefit from those relationships in ways that reach well beyond making my day easier. They have people who show up, ask questions, cheer for them and remember what matters to them. They get to experience different personalities, different traditions and different ways of being loved.
I am grateful they have people they feel comfortable calling. I am grateful there are other adults paying attention and I know that kind of support isn’t available to everyone.
Some parents live far from family. Some have relatives nearby who can’t help. Some are building friendships in a new place, parenting alone or carrying responsibilities that leave very little time to find their people.
When I wonder how they do it, I know the answer is often that they do it because their children need them. They make the arrangements, miss the sleep, use the last of their sick days and figure out another way.
I hope we can make it easier to ask for help. I hope we can also get better at offering something specific enough to accept.
“I’m picking mine up. Does yours need a ride?”
“Send her over for a couple of hours.”
“I made extra. Can I bring you supper?”
I want to remember that when I have the time and capacity to be that person for someone else. I know what it feels like to need the offer.
There are plenty of things about motherhood I’m still figuring out. I’m learning when to step in, when to let go and which battles deserve the energy I have left at the end of the day.
But I’m getting better at saying, “Yes, that would help. Thank you,” and to the people who keep answering my calls, loving my girls and helping us get through the ordinary, complicated business of being a family, I hope you know how much I mean it!
(Paige Gurgainers is a mom of three girls, digital journalist for Webster Parish Journal.)