Okay. We get it. You’ve survived the tiny phase, where there is a divisive debate between which stage is worse: two years old or three years old. Your kids know how to make themselves breakfast, and the rare night-time interruption is the result of a bad dream instead of needing a nipple in their mouth every two hours. Going places isn’t a big deal, as it doesn’t consist of an hour of trying to find socks, and shoes, and of course you pooped in your diaper right before we head out the door, and let’s get you buckled in your car seat, and omg how did you poop again you just pooped how does this even happen?!?
You’re busy navigating the older stages. You have plenty on your mind, and the work isn’t necessarily easier, just different. Here’s the thing, though—for you, the trenches weren’t that long ago. Look back for a minute. Did you have support? Did you have the occasional adult to talk to? Did you bounce ideas off of someone? Do you remember cringing at the thought of grocery shopping with the kids, but also relishing the idea of maybe exchanging small talk with the cashier as your sole form of adult interaction for that day?
Human beings require connection in order to survive. Motherhood has transformed from this “it takes a village” mentality into something that has become incredibly isolating. We are now programmed to show only our shiniest moments on the Internet, while quietly dwelling in a reality filled with poop, tantrums, sleepless nights, fevers, and more poop. So sure, your friend with her tiny child may come over, and while the tiny child is ripping books off your bookshelf your friend may ask, “Is homemade baby food really worth the time and effort?” but what she’s really saying is, “I’m overwhelmed, and this is hard. You’ve survived this hard part—please support me while I try to figure it out myself.”
In a culture where we seem so prone to disconnect from others, let us seek opportunities to reach out and uplift when we can. We can never guess when it’s going to be us who needs a little help reinventing the wheel.
Keighty Brigman is terrible at crafting, throwing birthday parties, and making sure there isn’t food on her face. Allegedly, her four children manage to love her anyway.
