12 Weeks–It takes a village…I totally get it now.
My sister has always had a vision about living on a commune. The commune would consist of close friends and family members living in separate houses, but sharing a large backyard. Each member of the commune would have to bring a special skill (cook, gardner, etc.). Everyone would eat together 5 days out of the week, then with their own families the other 2. I always had a good laugh when she would bring it up, and told her that I wasn’t interested.
Well, 12 weeks into motherhood, and I am “singing a different tune.” I’ve never understood the old saying “It takes a village”, as much as I do now. My Mother and Mother-in-Law both live about 3 1/2 hours away, and I am shamelessly using my little boy as bait for them to move closer.
Recently, we went to Muskogee for my cousins wedding. It was my first time to travel out of Tulsa with Bennett. My anxiety was at an all-time high, and I packed enough supplies for a weekend even though it was just a day trip. During the ceremony, he let out a few cries, and I ran to the lobby hoping the bride would forgive me. Well, that would be the last time I would hold my son for the remainder of the evening.
With 4 Aunts and 8 cousins present, Bennett was passed around from loving arms to loving arms. 10 weeks ago this would have bothered me, and I would have monitored closely while squirting sanitizer in hands with every exchange. After 12 weeks of sleep deprivation, eating with one hand, and a painful back spasms (15 lbs. gets pretty heavy after a while) I was more than happy to adore my precious boy from across the table. It was actually odd to see him from different angles.
On the way back to Tulsa, my sister explained that this was a glimpse into the commune life. There would always be someone there to help out when you need a break, but you had the option to go to your own house when you wanted to be alone. I’m sold…now if I could only convince my husband…I’ll have to work on that one.
