I have no time for this mummy wars bizzo. No time. Even those two words want to make me throw up. No doubt there’s judgement going on because that’s what we do (don’t we?!) but that happens in all facets of life so, meh. Perhaps it’s a ploy to sell newspapers and magazines, who knows. But what’s more interesting to me is the way that, when somebody’s chips are down, the village takes over.
Some examples. I’ve written about my friend whose husband left her (very) unexpectedly late last year. Well the village has come to the fore. We can’t take away her pain and devastation, but the village can help fix her house for sale and be there for her on auction day so she doesn’t have to face the stupid prick on her own.
When a mum is sick or does her calf and achilles in netball (ahem, hi Deb), there will be offers from all over the place to pick her kids up, bring them home or take them to footy training so she doesn’t have to drag her sorry arse (and crutches) to school or some windswept oval.
A few years ago when Mitch was in 4yo kinder, one of the mums fell very ill. There was a roster made up and we all made one or two meals for her and her family so that was one less thing for her to worry about. Thankfully she recovered and is now team manager of Mitch’s footy team!
A couple of weeks ago we had a mum and her 3 kids over for dinner because her husband was away for a few weeks. She sat and read the paper and relaxed because she could.
And last week a friend told me of her separation. So friggen sad. But one of the other mums said to her “let the village help you”. And that’s what it is. From the small things like picking up the kids if you’re working, sick, stuck in traffic to the big things like separation and serious illness – the village is there for you.
Now that’s more interesting than who breastfed for however long because honestly that stuff doesn’t matter. No really, it doesn’t. What matters is being able to help someone in need whether they’re a mum, dad, friend or whatever. That’s what counts.