The other day, I took a walk during my prep period. Alone. Which, if you know me, is pretty rare. I'm usually walking and talking with a coworker, squeezing in as much adult interaction and conversation as possible before heading back to class.
To say it had been a week would be an understatement. We've been working on flipping my 8-month-old son's very backwards eating schedule (four bottles overnight and absolutely refusing them during the day to be exact). The transition has been a doozy and a half. I was tired, I was running on fumes, and most importantly, I desperately needed coffee. A LARGE coffee.
Of course, I had forgotten to make a pot the night before, so I took my prep period to walk to the cute little cafe down the block from school. And while I was standing there waiting for my much-needed caffeine, I actually took a minute to look around.
Everywhere I looked, there were little groups of women sitting together, holding their babies, doting on their toddlers, and doing what mothers do best: talking about motherhood. They were venting, asking questions, sharing advice, and wondering aloud if the things they were experiencing were, in fact, normal.
I'll admit, I felt a little jealous. How badly I would have loved to be sitting there with my own mom friends, babies in tow, attempting to enjoy a coffee while getting in some much-needed girl time instead of heading back to my classroom.
But as I walked out with my oversized coffee, I found myself thinking one thing: thank goodness for mothers.
Thank goodness for the mothers who are our friends, our colleagues, our confidants, and sometimes our lifelines. For the women who sit and listen, who remind us we're not alone, who offer advice when we need it and reassurance when we don't even know we're looking for it.
Because no one understands a mother's worries, her guilt, her exhaustion, her love, or woes quite like another mother.
Motherhood can feel isolating and downright exhausting at times. But there is something so special about finding women who just get it. Who don't need a lengthy explanation because they've been there, too. Who will sit and be all ears listening to every detail you need to get off your chest. Who will reassure you and meet you with solidarity and lift the feeling of the isolating feeling of the motherhood load.
So here's to the coffee dates, the parking lot conversations, the group chats, the unsolicited (but very much appreciated) advice, and the women who make this whole motherhood thing feel a little less lonely. Thank goodness we have each other. Always.