We’re in this together, I think, as we pile car seats and bags and snacks into the mini van. And the sound of I can’t hear the DVD, and pull the screen down and turn on the movie fill our ears. And we laugh because that’s all we can do and someone shouts, “we will have fun”. As if that is our mantra for these years. As if those words will make it so.
“We will have fun” as we venture out forcing our kids away from their Ipads and Disney Jr and a lazy Sunday in their jammies. Because that’s what life and this parenting thing is about the pursuit of fun, taking the opportunity to make memories, filling your Facebook news feed with happiness.
We’re in this together. When the work days are long and the kids are cranky and you’re out of wine. And I will bring a bottle to your house and we will order dinner and the kids will run amuck, while we turn an idle eye and silently cheers and sing Taylor Swift under our breathes. Because deep in our souls we are still young and reckless.
And when life gets crazy I will cook your family dinner and invite you into my home and I will pour the wine or the whiskey or whatever life calls for because I know you have and will do the same.
We’re in this together. When I show up at your house in sweatpants, Uggs and not a stitch of make-up. And upon arrival your laundry is unfolded in your living room and neither of us will care that we’ve let each other see that side, the parts that aren’t always going the way we planned, the unprettiness that life with children can be.
You will bring the fresh baked cookies that you posted on Facebook to our play date at the park, and when the children eat half of them I won’t care. But when I get home I’ll devour what’s left crumbs and all while hiding from my son and text you to tell you how wonderful they were.
And if you see that I posted a bit of grumpiness on Facebook you will send wine or cookies or both. You will invite me into your home, and I’ll leave feeling a million times better.
When I complain about how badly dinner went or how my son refuses anything but macaroni and cheese, and when I admit that I yelled or lost my temper you will just listen. You will nod and without judgement or explanation say that this too shall pass.
We set no expectations for each other. And if I haven’t heard from you in awhile, I know it’s not because you’re mad or avoiding me but that this business of having a family, of raising children, of keeping the laundry flowing and the bellies full is hard work.
We are in this together when you have fallen, when things haven’t gone as planned and I’ll wait for you to be ready to talk about it or not talk about it. And when you are ready there will be no judgement just wine.
And when your days are joyous, your kids have been well behaved or achieved something or just simply made you smile, I will listen and understand and know what a big deal it is. And I won’t think you a braggart or admonish you for talking about your children all the time.
We are in this together, through the thick and thin, these years of mess and chaos and sometimes speechless wonderment. The days when our hearts burst with joy from the amazingness that having children can be and on the days when we our hearts are heavy and worn down from how hard all this can be, we are in this together. We are in this together, no matter where the journey takes us or what life throws at us. I’ll hold your kids hands and you will hold mine, we will navigate motherhood together, I’ll have your back and you have mine.