The State of The Mama Rant

Dear Village Members:

Remember those days when my belly bulged to the point of suffering, the way you – all of you – stared at me, felt sorry for me, and longed to help me and those baby girls inside of me. It’s impossible to minimize the importance of pregnancy, of carrying two human beings in my body. You held doors for me, switched chairs for me, made sure I was feeling well, eating well and drinking well.

We’re so excited, you said.

Oh, we can’t wait to meet them, you continued.

Whatever you need, just say it and we’ll be there.

The African Proverb that it takes a village to raise a child isn’t literal, is it?

Instead, American families live parallel lives often never really connecting. A family could be floundering, might be breaking down, could be on the brink and where’s the village? The village is busy looking away, surfing the Internet, shopping at Wally World, praying.

Where are the doers of the village? The ones who know what it’s like to want to break down and cry from exhaustion? Where are the ones who just want to spend a half hour entertaining two of the cutest little girls in the world while their Mama cooks their meal or their parents walk hand-in-hand around the block for the first time in more than 18 months? Where are the ones who want to watch them splash around in the sprinkler, wearing nothing but elephant towels and diapers?

I am a lone villager in this camp five days a week. Are children so old news that we don't need to watch the amazing adventure of their growth in person? Are monthly e-mail photos really enough?

Where are the ones who believe in that African Proverb?

I’m so busy, you say.

Perhaps.

But, maybe you’ve heard of another saying, the one that suggests that human beings tend to always make time for what is important.

Who's important to you today?

Find a way to get to them, and hug them. Or, at least send them a real card through the village donkey.