I've been thinking lately about my little village. The village of people The Rizz and I have surrounded ourselves with who tend to us, our children, our happiness. The village that steps in when one of us has stepped out, the people who can turn my day around with a listening ear or a silly text that makes my day. I've come to rely on my village so heavily in fact that I can't quite imagine life without them.
I know plenty of private people. People who keep to themselves and handle everything within the walls of their own homes. People who never seem to need help and can handle all the up and downs and in betweens with grace and dignity and privateness. I admire the heck out of them. Personal crisis without shouting it from the rooftops? I get a hangnail and call the appropriate people.
I am an over-sharer to the enth degree. There is nothing that's off limits with me. Well, almost nothing. And while the repercussions of that has roared it's ugly head a time or two, I can't imagine being any other way. My life is one that is lived out loud, in HD 1080P color. It probably often begs for judgement but doesn't make excuses for it's choices. My village gets it and having them get it is one of my life's greatest gifts.
But here's what I love most about my village: it goes both ways. They take care of us and we try our best to take care of them. They love on my kids and aren't afraid to give the necessary hugs and kisses if they are needed. They know how we parent and pick up right where we left off. I know their kids allergies and who needs what to sleep. I know what movies are spooky to so-and-so and the signs of an imminent meltdown when some extra snuggles are all that's required. It overwhelms me sometimes, this community we've built to surround our children with good, reliable, kind people. People who have additional eyes and ears on my kids and protect them when it's needed.
Like when we were sledding and one of the dad's of our village scooped Austin up just before he would have been toppled over by a wayward sled, knowing that the Rizz and I were too far away to get to him.
Or when I failed to buy the right shirt/snack/notebook and another mom from our village grabbed them for me, thus making my daughter's day.
Or when a listening ear is given, free of judgement or prejudice so that I can rattle off my latest frustrations and ask for another perspective.
This is the stuff of our life and while it may looked bizarre to those on the outside, it's the only thing that makes sense to me. My kids know they are loved, by us and our village, and I'm convinced that more love makes better people. I find immense comfort knowing that when my children are frustrated with me and can't seem to get their point across, they have other adults in their lives they can trust and turn to. I would do the same for them in a heartbeat.
I love this. This crazy life we've constructed and the people we've chosen to be cheerleaders for us and our kids. This community of taking care of and being there for and working together to create the best possible little humans that we can. This village of people who makes our life our life. And while I stand in awe of those who can do it alone, I'm eternally grateful that we don't have to.