It takes village to raise a child. The phrase is such a cliché, but it is also so very true. I have an amazing village, and I was recently reminded just how lucky I am.
On December 23rd, I got a call from my son’s school telling me that he had hit his head on a fence post while diving for a football at recess. The staff person said he had a gash and that we needed to pick him up immediately. My partner and I headed to school in separate cars so that she could run him to the emergency room while I picked up our daughter and her class gecko, which we were going to watch over winter break (of course–because every crisis needs a gecko thrown into the mix).
We live about seven minutes from the school and were nearly there when I received a second call from the staff person saying that she wanted to call 911. I asked her to wait, explaining that we were pulling into the parking lot. When we got there, we took deep breaths and walked into the office. We were so calm–really, I think we deserve medals. My partner scooped up our son and off they went to the ER. I picked up my daughter and the gecko and headed home.
I texted a friend and told her what happened. She offered to help as did several other friends who texted or called after hearing what had happened. There was nothing to do but wait.
A couple of hours later, my partner called to tell me that our son had fractured his skull in 3 places and they were calling in a neurosurgeon, an opthamologist and ENT specialist. I needed to be there.
Within ten minutes, I had found friends to take my daughter for the night, and a few other friends on standby for anything else that we might need.
I headed to the hospital and sat with my partner and son as the doctors examined him and reviewed his CT scan. About three hours later, all the doctors had cleared him and the doctor was able to stitch him up. He was going to be fine.
I left the hospital and drove back to my friends’ house; they invited me in for a beer. We sat in their kitchen talking for a couple of hours, and I was able to stop thinking about how bad things could have been.
Parenting is scary sometimes. I hope you all have a village. If not, find your people and make one.
The idea of the nuclear family going it alone is crazy.
About Vikki
I don’t know how I’d survive without our extended village. Strike that – I don’t know how my twin boys would survive since they’d clearly knock me out.
But mainly, you had me at the gecko. (And that your son is fine.)
Twitter Name: tcstream
Villages for parenting and job coaching and therapy and manic checks. That is just the tip of the iceberg
I am lucky enough to have an amazing woman in town, who will do anything to help me. Her boys are grown and gone, and she has been the first babysitter we’ve ever had.
We work with each other, and we are there for each other. She loves being needed, and I love having her there if it’s a 3 a.m. and there’s an asthma attack.
It’s really beautiful.
I tell her every chance I get, I’m so lucky.
Today, I brought her a half gallon of homemade iced coffee.
She loves surprise gifts like that when she opens her door.
Twitter Name: gdrpempress