IT TAKES A VILLAGE
Mom groups can be a relief
It takes a village. That’s what everybody says about raising kids, right?
The proverb, “It takes a village to raise a child,” may have originated in Africa. Indeed, variations of the saying exist in several African languages.
The meaning is quite literal and, in many places in the world, still practised: discipline, child-minding and love, among other things, are administered by the people of the village and not the parents alone.
But what does that mean in present-day Edmonton? A large city in a country where the nuclear family is, on the whole, kept very separate from everyone else? Where we might live thousands of kilometres away from our parents? Where we often don’t even know our neighbours by name? Where communal spaces are passed over for big, suburban backyards with personal fire pits and pools? Where the first year of child-rearing is often just one parent and one baby, going it relatively alone?
Despite all that, for me, the phrase always rang true — at least in the figurative sense. My family in Ontario, my husband’s family in St. Albert, my step-kids’ mom right here in Edmonton. Those people have been wonderfully supportive as I’ve navigated having a baby for the first time. We wouldn’t want to do it without them.
But, in the past few months, I’ve learned just how important — integral to my happiness and mental well-being, really — my literal, physical village has become, too.
One night late in my pregnancy, Jay and Anne, “block connectors” for Westmount Community League who happen to live across the street, knocked on our door to introduce themselves. During our conversation, they told me I wasn’t the only preggo on the block, which was news to me.
Turns out that Sheena and Ben, and Sarah and Jordan (expecting twins!), were expecting babies within six weeks of my due date, in September and October, respectively. And the two couples lived on my side of the street, only six and eight houses away from ours.
In January, Jay and Anne invited our whole block over to their house, ostensibly to meet the four new bundles.
But I suspect that our kind block connectors also wanted Sheena, Sarah and I — all taking time off from work — to get to know one another.
I had been extremely hesitant to join a “mom group,” so when Indy was born, I didn’t seek one out.
I didn’t think it was “my thing.” They get a bad rap, and — however unfairly — are portrayed terribly on TV and in film as rooms full of holier-than-thou, judgmental, fake-nice people doing somewhat ridiculous activities with babies who will never remember.
I know better than to buy into stereotypes, but I do know of women who’ve been scolded at their mom group for using a stroller rather than baby-wearing (seriously), and the comments section on parenting articles can be vicious.
But our little mom group started organically — the three of us getting together for a weekly coffee and carbohydrates session — and has since grown to include three more moms who also live nearby. With two sets of twins, this means eight babies spread out on blankets and play mats and in Jumparoos and swings while the mamas catch up.
And while the talk is often our babies and mothering in general, it’s also about music and art and travel and politics and our families, and it’s a great way to use our brains for something other than baby talk and diaper-changing.
Most importantly, it’s reminded me that me, Jesse and our kids have had a community sitting here — all around us — the whole yearand-a-half we’ve lived here.
Edmonton’s vast system of neighbourhood community leagues is really a treasure — probably something born-and-bred Edmontonians take for granted or assume every city has (every city definitely doesn’t).
Thanks to our community league block connectors, I now know many of the people on my street by name. We’ve had many of our neighbours over and we’ve been over to their houses in return.
And if it weren’t for them, of course, I wouldn’t have my mom group.
I run into the moms in my group at least a couple of times a week walking down our block or in the Brewery District. Other days, we go for impromptu walks or coffees or errand runs in the neighbourhood. Laura, who lives a few blocks away, and I go to the same gym. Our mom group has gone out for drinks and left the babies home with the dads.
We look forward to the babies growing up together — with friends their age in their ’hood — like we did when we were kids.
For my maternity leave, which, up until I met these women, I found at times isolating and lonely, it’s been an absolute game-changer.
Still unsure about mom groups? Here’s my pitch: At the very least, it’s human contact and conversation once a week. Most of the time, it’s support from other people who are going through the same thing you are. You can bounce ideas off other parents and feel reassured about how you’re doing and the decisions you’re making.
And if you’re lucky, you’ll make real, lasting friendships and you’ll find your community — your very own village — within your city.