The other day, my husband, our two big boys, and I had to be somewhere for a couple of hours. But since I’m exclusively breastfeeding, I can’t really be away from the baby for more than 2-3 hours at a time.

At first I thought we’d be playing baby hot potato, bringing a pack and play, and praying for solid naps. It’s hard living far from family when we’re in a pinch like this and need (free) childcare.

Thankfully, my husband suggested a dear friend that might be willing to help us out (fun fact - this friend is the namesake for our new baby’s middle name!). Honestly, I was hesitant because the ask included driving to our house, finding parking, taking the train downtown with us, holding the baby for a couple of hours, and in general being an extra set of hands for us with the other two boys. Basically a full working day, only to be repaid with the cuteness of the Almodovar boys (And I must admit, they are cute.).

But you know what our friend said? YES.

And yet somehow, the entire day, I found myself feeling guilty (especially when the baby was crying). I wondered if our friend was regretting his choice to help us. I wracked my brain for ways to repay him, knowing it would be both awkward and inappropriate to give him money somehow, and yet I didn’t feel right just saying “thank you.”

Somehow I think parenting in 2020s America has convinced me that I’m supposed to do this all on my own. I mean, these are my children, right? So I should be able to take care of them without extra help, right??

But that’s so not fair and so not true.

Let’s keep clinging to that phrase It takes a village. Let’s not let anyone convince us otherwise.

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