Even Supermom needs a village

In the lovely wee hours of morning, I've started reading articles online about raising your second child, summer camps for preschoolers, how to increase milk supply and then, how to raise your children when your family - the main people in your supposed village - are hours away. I know it can be done. I know of friends who live in different cities, states or even countries away from family and seemingly are able to handle the burdens of child rearing by themselves. Of course, I see snapshots of their lives on social media, so who's to say that they're adjusted?


You win, universe. I desperately need help.


It's only been two weeks but the lack of sleep, the mood swings and anxiety has started to take its toll on me.......I know, right? It's taking me this long to ACKNOWLEDGE that I actually NEED HELP?


I've caught myself sleeping and slacking "on the job." I once woke up, believing I was sitting in my rocker, pumping away, only to find that I'm actually on the toilet, breastpump in hand and my four year old waving her bottom around, declaring, "I'm done, mommy. Wipe me." For breakfast or lunch, I've nodded sleepily at the clever four year old who asked if she can have candy or chocolates to eat. What's worse is that I've openly joined her in her candy raid.


Sigh.


I get anxious staring at the small amount of breastmilk I spent 30 minutes pumping only to realize that my inner cow needs to be fed. How can I expect to have milk when I don't even remember the last time I ate or drank water?


Its not that I'm not friendly or hate all sorts of social interaction. There are days where yes, I want to be left alone. But I do have moments where I recognize that I'm in need of some form of human interaction outside the family.


I have met some lovely stay at home mommies in my neighborhood that have been more than helpful. They've babysat my four year old when I've asked them to. I've gotten presents for the baby and even had a home cooked meal and dessert dropped off. Thoughtful strangers that have sent messages online and given me virtual hugs and sage advice have also made the past two weeks bearable.


It could be the mom guilt that we seem to believe that we are capable of doing this: MOTHERHOOD thing to ourselves. It could be the prideful little selves that has us believing that villages are a thing of the past. Moms could work outside the home, have a sparkly clean home, have time and energy to make meals from scratch and always has the time to play with their rugrats. We have to be SUPERMOM to be a "good" mom.


Let me tell you about being Supermom. She's got a secret identity that allows her to be another person when not using her cape. She's got an army that knows who she is and can summon her whenever there is a crisis. She's also got a sidekick or two that can talk to her whenever she doubts her actions.


Supermom has a village.


Supermom has people with whom she can ask for council, for second opinions or heck, someone she can grab a margarita with.


She's super because she gives herself time to be the "hero" in a crisis and time to wind down after.


Well, I'm taking my cape off for a while and go in search of my tribe. I'm sure I'll find them at Starbucks wearing the same tired look, a Venti of their choosing and their Supermom capes tucked inside their purse/diaper bags.

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