As I sit here in Noah’s room, watching him sleep, I think about how amazingly lucky we are to have our community of friends…or as I like to call them: our chosen family. Something that I had growing up that I was (and still am) determined to give to Noah is a strong sense of community. A village. Kids to play with who are like brothers and sisters. Other homes that feel like home. I had that. I want Noah to have that.
While our community, our extended family, may not all be on the same block or even in the same neighborhood (some of us ARE though…YAY!)…we’re still only a text, a phone call and a couple miles apart. We still have impromptu play dates when we run into each other at our favorite spots in town. I love this. Noah loves this.
These boys have all known each other since they were wee little babies. The other mamas and I have watched each others kids grow from the very beginning. We’ve changed all of their diapers together. We’ve nursed each others kiddos. We’ve been their to watch them all take their first steps. And now. Just look at them now. Six years later and they still always seem to pick up where they left off. Just like the mamas do. And it warms my heart.
So while our community might not look like the one I was raised in…that makes it all that much more meaningful. Because we don’t have the luxury of walking next door in our PJs to ask for those little favors or just for a quick hello over coffee, we have to actually make a true effort to keep our relationships going. Yet it really doesn’t feel that way at all. We all know that, at any time on any given day, we can all call on each other for love and support. We are family.