mom village - Boston Moms Blog

It takes a village to raise a child.

I have heard this phrase all my life. As a young mom, I thought it was a bit silly. I had children, I could deal with raising them. I could feed them and change them and care for them myself. Who needed other moms? I was an independent woman!

Or so I thought.

I don’t remember exactly when my village began to form. Somewhere between the time my older children began school and the time I realized I had more children than I had hands, I started finding myself surrounded by other moms.

Moms who are happy to “mom” not only their own children but mine too.

Moms who do ecstatic celebratory dances in school parking lots when they hear my toddler utter the words, “I pooped in the potty!”

Moms who sit and plan “kid activity Tetris” with me to make sure our entire group gets to where they need to be when they need to be there.

Moms who are quick to respond to an “I’m running late!” text with an “I’ll grab your kids, see you at my house when you can get here.”

Moms who care for my other children well into the night while I rush to the hospital with my broken-armed son.

Moms who drop Gatorade and chicken soup on my front porch when a stomach bug hits all five of my children at once.

Moms who run through my door within minutes when I message that there is an emergency and I need help.

Moms who host birthday parties for my son when I am in the hospital with my premature baby, making sure to live stream singing “Happy Birthday” so the baby and I can both “be there.”

Moms who respond to my clogged-pipe-under-the-kitchen-sink drama by showing up with a laundry basket and ordering me to fill ‘er up with dirty dishes so they can run them through their own dishwashers for me.

Moms who don’t think twice when I ask to use them as an emergency contact (and then dutifully show up to pick up my sick kid when the school nurse calls).

Moms who are willing to cut holes in their T-shirts and hide baby bottles underneath in an attempt to feed my breastfed-only baby while I had surgery.

Moms who will respond to my overwhelmed, “I’m at the end of my rope with these kids today” texts by showing up with homemade apple dip and wine.

Moms who know my coffee order and do drive-by coffee dropoffs.

Moms who I, without question, would do any of these things for in return.

Moms who started off as just faces in a school parking lot, and without my realizing it, became my beloved village. Sisters who love my children as their own, just as I do theirs.

The village that I, as a naïve new mom, didn’t realize I needed.

The village I am so very, very thankful to have found.

To my mom village — thank you. I couldn’t do this “raising kids thing” without you. And I am so very glad I don’t have to.


Deanna Greenstein
Deanna is a mom of five (yes, five) children, who lives in Brockton with her small circus of kids, her husband, their dog Penny, and a few cats. Her life is loud, energetic, mostly fun, often gross (did she mention four of those kids are boys?), and she wouldn't have it any other way. In between carting kids to school, baseball, gymnastics, guitar, dance, track and field and every other kid activity known to mankind, she works as a school bus driver for the city of Brockton, and is the Director of Religious Education at the Unity Church of North Easton, a Unitarian Universalist congregation. Deanna also holds degrees in Elementary Physical Education and Dance Education, which she plans to put back into use one day. At parties, Deanna can often be found hanging out with family pets. She follows her children around with a camera like the paparazzi, is pretty sure that 97% of her blood stream is made of coffee, and her laundry is never done. You can also find her blogging at https://eighteenmoreyearsofburpsandfarts.wordpress.com