The kitchen is warm, breezes blowing in through the open windows. Music bubbles from the speakers on the laptop, filling the room with sound. The babies dance in their chairs, Lily throwing back her head to laugh. Warm crisp chicken nuggets fill their bellies, handfuls of endamame following.
We laugh, we dance. We make up songs. I kiss Sam's head, smelling the soft sweet smell of baby shampoo mixed with the tartness of outside living. The sun hits Lily's face and her eyes glow amber. She smiles and drinks her milk. Sam dances and laughs.
And I look at them and my heart about comes out of my chest. It has been a perfect day, the sun shining warm, wind blowing strong. The kind of day that calls you outside to play play play. And play we did. All day, out giggles ringing out across park and sidewalk and front porch.
A day filled with mommy friends. Women I cannot imagine my life without. With one call, we get together with our babies. It is messy and chaotic and fun. The kids play, swing, eat wood chips. The mamas talk and find a bit of time for themselves in a day filled with doing for others.
And I realized something. I've always been okay on my own. I've always been scared to reach out and be this person. But today I felt good in my own skin. In being open and vulnerable. In caring enough that hurt would be profound, but wanting to care enough to have it not matter.
I am no longer content to be alone. I need people. I need other mamas. I need company and laughter. I need the touch of a hand and shared understanding. I need to be around other women who watch out for my kiddos, who touch them with gentle hands, who call out "I love you too!" without hesitation to my daughter when she calls it to them.
I need people. I need my friends. And the though of it is no longer terrifying, but comforting. I am resting easy in the idea of needing and being needed, and no longer afraid of rejection.
Because, let's face it. Life crumbles. Words are said, feelings hurt. Friends don't always see eye to eye. Inevitably there is conflict. And that used to scare me.
But it's worth it. All of this love and laughter and care is worth every fear of failing at friendship, of not being good enough. It's worth it to know I can go through this life, this motherhood, with others who love my children. It's worth it to know I have friends to care for and to give to. I have my friends children to love and watch grow.
It's days like this that make me realize what life is about. It's about the day to day living, yes...but it's also about the sunshine, the giggles, the bubbles, the chalk, the grass in between my toes and the cookie crumbs on my shirt. It's about watching my babies run and play with children then will grow up with.
And it's about a circle of mommies to share it all with.
