OUR VILLAGE

Obviously with everything going on with Covid, new moms have had their ideas of what postpartum was going to be like completely turned upside down. Bubbles are small, visitors are reduced and in many cases not even allowed. It goes against everything we had drilled into our heads about how to stay sane and healthy as a new parent. I’ve vented on this topic before because it matters, but as always and in the spirit of the holiday weekend it’s important to take the time to look glass-half-full. I am pro-holiday, any kind of holiday; I already have my Christmas decoration bins lined up like little greyhounds ready to burst out of the gates and off to the races on November 1st. Right now (in Canada) it’s Thanksgiving *sigh* Fall leaves are vibrantly dancing on the wind down the street, the smell of pumpkins and nutmeg make that chunky knit sweater a little extra cozy, and don’t even get me started on the number of lattes I’ve built into my daily routine. Ever since I got to spend fall days snuggling and bonding my newborn baby, I’ve had such an appreciation for the season. There is a quote in one of my interior design books that reads “Fall paints in colours that summer has never seen” and it even gives a self-proclaimed sun bum like myself the warm and fuzzies.

Thanksgiving is always a pleasant break from the noise that can fill our heads. Even social media is so satisfying to scroll through; everyone showing gratitude, gathering together with loved ones, and absolutely no carb shaming. (It’s a day that yams and stuffing get you the most likes, I call that a win). Being a public school teacher and having a melting pot of learners with different belief systems, makes it that much more important for me to find a common message to the holiday that we can all relate to. Taking an intentional pause and filling your cup half full is really a beautiful opportunity to hit the reset button on your mental health after the craziness that is back-to-school season. Not to mention 2020 season. With all of it, my feeds are still flooded with the sentiment of “It’s been crazy/hard/long/absolute shit BUT there is still so much to be thankful for!”

This year, more than ever, we all need it. The real fear as parents is tangible, how is this all going to effect our babies? Are they going to know the natural impulse to hug someone without hesitation, or the roar of a crowd? Are they going to know what it feels like to see a smile from across the room, or to have the sensation of wanderlust? Are they going to know a house full of family at Christmas time as the norm, or even be taught the value of sharing? All the fears, big and small, and it can be consuming. We need time to grieve and acknowledge the things we miss (and are terrified of), but we also need time to remember that being forced to stay in a bubble with your most supportive, treasured people is actually kind of incredible. Because the biggest fear of all is: will they feel as loved as they should? We’re so lucky to have amazing family surrounding us, but in particular we’ve had a constant throughout the chaos; they were there before quarantine and they’ve been there in every way they could be since.

My parents have never wavered in their presence for our children. They’ve been responsible citizens, following all the rules. They put their grandchildren in their bubble on day one and haven’t let go since. Easter baskets dropped on the porch, hugs that last a few seconds longer, Face-timing for bedtime stories, beach days, sleepovers… the list goes on The joy and love they give my daughter floods me with a sense of peace that I can barely put into words. Outside of Mommy and Daddy, she knows the most amazing love. My parents have willingly opted to spend their retirement loving our children, being there for them while we’re navigating this crazy new workforce. Building memories, giving them structure, and showing them the constant that is pure love. I know it’s supposed to take a village, but they are our village. I’m so grateful for everything they’ve done to help me achieve the things I wanted in life, and now to have them selflessly do that with my own daughter is truly the whip cream on my pumpkin pie.

So take some time today to thank your bubble. Thank them for driving you crazy, for making you laugh, for being your people. It’s an elite list; five or ten people in the whole world you’re allowed to be yourself around, and to hug. For being that constant and that small sense of normalcy that we’re all craving. It may be a smaller turkey at a smaller table this year, but for now at least, it’s totally worth it.