The Village
I’ve always considered myself to be very independent. I have never been the type to ‘need’ a guy in my life. I have often gone against the curve and stuck to my guns even if it wasn’t easy. I never wanted to accept help from others, but instead, complete everything on my own. I hate to cry in front of people. With all of that, when I had my own children it is not surprising that I hated the idea of ‘the village.’
I had my first son, Isaac, when I was 26. I felt that by asking for help I would be giving up some independence. I felt that I would somehow seem weak. I felt that it would seem like I wasn’t good enough or that I was giving into some made-up theory in my head that people thought I couldn’t do it, that I wasn’t competent enough. I felt like I had something to prove.
With my first son, I didn’t ask for help. My husband and I lived in DC and I did it mostly on my own. My husband was a huge support system. My mom and mother-in-law would come out and visit us (from NJ and KC) but I did not want them to cook or clean my house. As a guest of mine I made sure that they enjoyed their stay. On a daily basis, I made sure that my son always looked dapper, that my house was immaculate, that I was still succeeding in my graduate classes, and that I made time for myself and my husband. No matter what life was going to send my way I was going to tackle it and succeed. One was easy. No village necessary.
I kept this up with my second son too. I was thrilled at the opportunity to add all the *extra* like matching them in outfits. I don’t know where I got the energy to do this, but I did it. I made it happen for a while. It wasn’t until my youngest was about a year and a half old, and my oldest was 2 and a half (they’re basically Irish twins), that I started to feel a slight bit of exhaustion. I needed a break, I needed a little more time with my husband, and I just needed some help. (Not a lot, I wasn’t going to cave into the idea of the village just yet.)
That said, we moved up to NJ and into the house directly next door to my parents. There was even a path that connected the houses. I had some major boundaries and my parents respected that. They never showed up and just walked into my house. But they helped us. They took the trash down when we forgot (we forgot a lot), they planted flowers for us, they helped us mow, they were there if I needed eggs or milk (also happened a lot), and I felt so much safer having them right there. And, they were there all the time, every day for the kids. When I had my third, I barely felt the change because they picked up the pieces and my daughter seamlessly entered our crazy household, only it didn’t feel crazy. It was organized. My parents and the help they provided made that happen. My daughter is almost one and they have integrated themselves into the very fabric of our everyday life.
A few weeks ago, we received life changing news that my husband got a job in Kansas City (where he is from) that he cannot turn down. Over the next month we will be moving half way across the country. The idea of moving away from my parents seems impossibly hard. As I started to think about where we should live in the KC area, I realized just how much help they give me on a daily basis. My children are so lucky to be surrounded by so much love. My parents have become a lifeline to me. They never pressured me and took over my life. They waited for me to ask. But, as the days went on with three small children, I asked more and more. Cue, 'the village'.
My sons have become so used to my parents always being there. Mom-mom and Pop living next door is a constant for them. The relationship they have built with them is so wonderful and supportive and I am so grateful they are in their lives to the extent that they are. This is going to be a hard move for all of us.
But, I am trying to look at this new move as an opportunity. There were lots of places we could have chosen to live in the Kansas City area. My husband wanted to live in the area he grew up in on the west side of KC. His two sisters are over on that side. But, I know that I need a support system. I need that constant that my parents gave me. I need to rebuild my village.
Matt’s parents live in a very cute town on the east side of KC. That is also where his job is and the military base he will most likely go to. The decision should have been an easy one, but we wanted to exhaust all options. We looked all over the city for a home, and in two days (we only had two days to find a house), we finally decided to move to the same town as Matts mom and dad. While we aren’t moving into the house next door to them, we did buy a house that is only two streets away.
I am scared and nervous for this big move. It is hard to change your life when everything is going so smoothly, but I know that there is so much growth that can happen over the next few years because of this move too. I know that we are going to get to spend time with Matts family that we would have never had the opportunity to before. I know that as a couple we are going to encounter new obstacles and that is going to challenge us and make us stronger in the end. I know that my children will get to experience a whole new area of the US and spend time with their cousins. Our village will grow.
Who needs a village? I do. I will fully finally admit that I can’t do it all on my own anymore. It is so relieving to admit that. I wasn’t proving anything to anyone by not accepting or asking for help. All I was doing was exhausting myself. No one cares if you ask for help. I need help with the dishes. I need help with the yard work. I just need an extra set of hands here and there to help me do it all. I need babysitters so I can do date nights with my husband. I need someone to watch the kids for twenty minutes for me to be able to shower (for everyone’s sake). I need someone to remind me it is trash day. And, I need my kids to see that extra bit of love that comes from taking care of each other.
I’ve realized that admitting motherhood is hard doesn’t make me weak. It doesn’t make me less competent. I finally understand that when people ask me if I need help it’s not because they think I can’t do it, but because they also know how hard it is. It’s ok to swallow your pride sometimes, but it does taste a little bitter. I am glad for the help now and I hope that this huge transition to KC goes smoothly.
And if not, hopefully it will at least lead to some amusing blog posts. Gotta always look for some kind of silver lining.
