It DOES Take a Village

My maternity leave is winding down to the last few days.  My baby is getting bigger. Quinn is nearly a year old. He's started walking last week. But only if you're not watching him intently, or expecting him to toddle over to you. No, he gets up, steadies himself and walks when you are ignoring him. Or not paying attention. All of sudden, you feel his tiny hands grasping the back of your leg and look down to his smiling face.  He babbles constantly, and throws whatever he doesn't want - be it the soother, food, or a toy. I feel like I'm always on my hands and knees retrieving toys, crackers, and soothers. Last week, he tossed his soother down several rows at the hockey game. I thought he might be interested in hockey given that he's always playing with the miniature stick and swatting at a ball, but after last week's display, Quinn may have a future in baseball instead.
As he discovers more of the world around on him, I am realizing that my time at home is coming to an end.
 On a recent morning run, I reflected on the idea that it does take a village to raise a child, or keep a mother sane. We were fortunate enough to have our own village. My parents who stayed with us to lend a much needed helping hand during Quinn's first few weeks of life. Our wonderful nanny who ensured the older kids were dressed and fed and ready for school in the morning. She also took care of Quinn to allow me to walk the older kids to school, and stay connected to their world. She kept our abode neat and clean, and enabled me to focus my energies on trying out new recipes or simply get our supper prepared early. Having Rose around also meant that I could exercise on a daily basis - my daily fix of baby-free adrenaline. And every once in awhile, Mommy and Daddy got a few hours to ourselves on a date night. Dinner out, or a movie. Sometimes, it was an hour spent at Walmart with a Starbucks coffee. Nothing fancy but it allowed us to reconnect and maintain our sanity as a couple.
Then there was my brother who lived with us for several months. Quinn spent many hours snoozing on Uncle Billy's chest. Having my brother help out when we were running in opposite directions for the kids' extra-curricular activities was godsend. Plus there were the delicious meals he prepared as well. Not to mention having another adult to hang out with probably saved my sanity.
We also had Auntie Grace, my youngest sister. She was in the "city" working on her Masters of Education, and spent many weekends with us. Helping Ceilidh with a craft, or reading with Aisling, or playing road hockey with Devlin - it was wonderful having Auntie Grace around. We also ran the Mississauga 10k race together in May. Without Grace pushing me to run faster and longer, I would never have gotten into shape for the race.
The dad of the family also had his village role. Besides the usual chores of baths and early morning hockey practices, chaufeurring to various activities and coaching soccer, school lunches wouldn't have been prepared if Daddy wasn't around. Weekend breakfasts are also Daddy's domain, as are the occasional pancake and bacon dinners. I know I'm minimizing his role, but I can tell you the kids don't. After all, he is "Fun Daddy", while I often get the role of "Mean Mommy". That should be telling in itself.
In reflecting on this post, I thought about how tough and disheartening it must be for those without willing partners or family. It takes two of us to give Quinn a dose of Advil when he's feverish - one to hold down his flailing limbs and one to shoot the liquid into his screaming mouth. Lately, it's taking two of us to change a diaper since he does not want to lie still for anything! There are many forms of families out there, just as there are parenting styles. Oftentimes, it feels like I'm flying by the seat of my pants. There is no manual (despite the vast volumes of parenting books and magazines and advice columns) to read in every situation. It's often a game time decision or a "go with your gut" feeling when it comes to parenting dilemmas. But truly, without our support system or village, this past year would have been a different story.