9. It Takes A Village

My friend Sarah-Dawn sent me a tweet by someone that said, "People are like, 'It takes a village to raise a child' and I'm like ,'Can you give me the address for that village?' Cos I could really use the help." I cannot adequately express how true this statement is, especially nowadays when living in isolation is becoming the norm. Parents need help. Before I had a child, I had so many opinions. I was going to have a picture perfect pregnancy, complete with pregnancy gym classes (laughs hysterically); I was going to birth a perfect baby that slept for 12 hours in a row and had the digestive system of a teenager; I was going to keep my house spotlessly clean and have dinner ready for my husband every night as he returned from work (this thought alone was lunacy as my culinary skills extend to making great toast); I was going to attend all the mom and baby groups and be a beacon of health and happiness. WRONG! If you've read my first few blog posts, you'll notice that pretty much the exact opposite of all those things happened. I thought I knew what it took to raise a child. WRONG! What I needed and need is a lot of help. Barney is a help to me every day and I would kiss the person who created him if I could find them. We as mothers don't need comparisons or additional pressures that come from seeing Supermom and her perfect family on Facebook. We need honesty and support. We need a shoulder to cry on. We need each other. I have discovered that my village is often a digital one, and I am so thankful for the technology that allows me to communicate with incredible people across the world. These phenomenal women keep me sane. I was blessed enough to grow up with some of them like Crystal and Phyllis who are more my sisters than friends - they are Nevaeh's godmothers. Some of them like Shan (she is the mother of my Nevaeh's namesake - one of the best humans on earth and it sucks that she lives in San Diego), and Hannah (my true hero in every way due to her single parenting 2 special needs children and remaining the nicest soul alive) I collided with along the extraordinary journey I've had. All of them, however, are my village. Each adds something to my tapestry and I am alive because of their sisterhood. I'm not sure who your village is, but let me encourage you to take a moment (even if you have to hide in the bathroom as soon as you see someone who can keep your offspring for a few minutes) to thank them. 

I have a deep passion for the nation of Israel and I absolutely love the sense of true community there. The Old City is absolutely intoxicating. Seeing multiple generations sitting together along those ancient streets is one of the most beautiful sights in the world. The way Jews celebrate children is breathtaking. Babies aren't seen as a burden or an inconvenience. They are the future. For a people who have faced hatred and discrimination for millennia, who have overcome genocide, who have triumphed against all odds, the future is everything. My incredible friend, Doobie Sabbo, is a tour guide in Israel - the best tour guide ever I might add! I'll never forget speaking to him on the phone one day and I was agitated because Nevaeh was crying and wouldn't stop. With all the frustration in me seeping out in my tone, I apologized to him and said I would have to call him back later. His response hit me like a freight train. He said, "Christie, darling, don't ever apologize for a baby crying - it is the sound of life." Somehow when a man of his stature says that, it breaks through the walls of exhaustion and irritation that most stay at home moms will be familiar with. In an instant my perspective was forced to shift by that simple, truthful statement. Holocaust survivors say of Hitler, "The greatest revenge is living." If only we could all grasp this and do it. Living is a gift. Time is precious and fragile. I want to take the opportunity I get each day to see the small things that bring inexplicable joy to my little girl. Participating with our kids is a gift. I've said it before - the laundry and the dishes can wait. They'll still be there in the morning. Today won't though - it is here now and gone when tomorrow comes. I'm making it an active mission to do the puzzles, read the books (for the 257th time), pluck the grass and sing the songs, because these simple things delight my little human and that toothy grin is worth more than anything.