I had the complete package of two under two. I officially resigned to the fact that this is the hardest job you will ever love. That sweet old lady on Main Street was right. Aren’t they always?
I now wondered what the heck I was going to do all day with these little foreign beings. Clearly it wasn’t cleaning the toilets, folding laundry or showering. My husband was starting to question my Target runs. And with that damn drive-thru Starbucks, my coffee budget was quickly dwindling. I felt like every morning was Groundhog Day. They wake up, they poop, they eat, they nap, they wake up, they poop, they eat, they nap.
These little “guests” in my home expected me to have a full-blown itinerary printed out for them. OK, so they couldn’t yet read, but feelings are feelings. What about all the toys we bought? Shouldn’t they wake up and start building something. We have every collection of Bob the Builder and Handy Manny tool sets you can imagine. I have a grand idea — build mommy a time travel machine so I can travel back to the days of being able to PEE IN PRIVACY.
I had envisioned my mommy friends showing up on my doorstep drinking cups of spiked coffee, laughing at all my jokes, the kids toddling in the yard, little Fred Flintstone feet motoring around in Cozy Coupes. The moms that I did know were leaving the house at 8 a.m. with a boring ol’ cup of Joe in their hands and venturing into a world I no longer knew.
I was starving for socialization. I needed a another mom co-conspirator. I needed that village everyone always talked about. It takes a village. Where was my village?
This wasn’t what I planned.
I needed to think because I was going down that Chilkoot Hill fast. I needed other moms to help me get through the day. Who was I kidding — get me through the next minute, I needed activities to be close to home because we were on a hour-by-hour schedule and there was no way in hell that I’d skip naptime. Luckily, we live in the greatest little town this side of the St. Croix River. I signed up for every class I could find. I looked for baby music classes and baby gym classes. If it was within a 10-mile radius, count me in. I was going to pack up these little tourists and show them what I had.
And what did I find when I got there?
Minivan-driving moms with caffeine running through their veins and a Costco-size stock of baby wipes in their diaper bags. I hit the jackpot.
We compared notes, we talked about all things local, we wondered if nipple confusion really happened. We envied moms with nannies and dreamed about half-day preschool. What I first envisioned was becoming a reality. Here was my village.
Toddlers were everywhere, Cozy Coupes were racing, coffee cups were filled. Moms were happy and like-minded. And when one mom yelled out, “Does anyone know where the kids are?” I knew this was where I belonged.
Alicia Donovan is a native to Stillwater. She is a mother of two (adorable young) boys. She is devoted to her family, her friends and her two dogs. She believes this lovely river town is the best place to raise kids. She is realistic about life, an admitted control freak and loves building the community by connecting people. She is the head organizer and chief of details at Moms of Stillwater.