It Takes a Village

It occurred to me last night, as we enjoyed an impromptu date night, how blessed we are to have our family here with us. Aside from my Semester Around the World in 2001, I have never lived in a different city than most of my immediate family.
When Jacob was a baby and my mom wasn't working, I didn't take Jacob grocery shopping with me until he was far past one year old. She supported me through my PPD, coming over most days so that I could nap.

Grandma and Baby Jacob

When Ceci came along, both Kevin's mom and mine took their entire break tending to our family and helping me recover from my c-section.   My mom regularly came over after work to lend a hand, or my sweet sister Alicia would take Jacob to run off his energy with cousin Elise. When Kev was gone in Israel this summer, Uncle Jimmy would go grocery shopping, make dinner or help put the kiddos down for bed.

 Kevin's family lives just a few hours away, lending their amazing and generous support whenever they can, calling to check in and send love.  I am so grateful for them.

A proud godfat

We also live in thus unreal, amazing family of University Village. I remember when Kevin suggested moving here when I got pregnant with Jacob, I threw a fit---and I mean that quite literally. I think there may have been tears involved. And cursing---a curse of mine is my cursing. Perhaps a stomp of foot for the drama. Anyhoo, I remember yelling something about it looking like a prison, that when we rode the trolley during college and children watched from the fence of the playground, it evoked memories of National Geographic photos of refugee camps.

I know, I was (and sometime am) a brat.

Within a day or so of moving in, I took it all back and haven't looked back since. From my first interaction with Jamie, who made me feel so welcome and included and became a dear friend to Carmen to Bethany, Simone, Julie, Sarah, Donna, Angela, Jess, Allyson, Manuela, Julia-- to all the dozens of incredible women I've come to know and love---I pray you know who you are!!

    A famed $2 margarita night

  My children are afforded the gift of a huge fenced-in back yard, play equipment, dozens of playmates and the chance to take healthy risks like---GASP---climbing trees!! (I tell you, no one makes jungle children like the Village makes 'em. Strongman was climbing ladders at 14 months).

Village All Saints' Day Party

 At a moment's notice and a quick phone tree, we can have an impromptu tea gathering with steaming cups warming our hands as the littles play underfoot.

When I am struggling and tired and doubting my loveability, my mama hens sweep in with hugs and chocolate, giving me a safe space to voice my insecurities and then swiftly countering them with affirmations. Real affirmations, real love, no two-faced business.

I know, I know, it sounds unrealistic and super Hallmark cheese. Real, its is. Hallmark? Bring it on.

Countless people who don't live here, used to live here or want to leave here talk about the incredible support, the lack of frenemies, the ability to be real with one another. To be genuinely happy with a friend's pregnancy, job offer, haircut, and any number of joys. To share genuine sorrow, to shed tears at the loss of a child, a mother, the wounds of past hurts, to truly suffer with one another. To cram into a tiny living room with children twittering about from mama to mama, wrapped in love and cheek pinches, sipping tea and spelling the naughtier bits for tender ears.

This is the stuff of life, baby. Sharing the love, dividing the hurt, giving support. Simple, right? It only takes a Village to get there.