My Tribe

I have a fantastic little tribe here at Fort Stewart. Several moms on our half of the street get together almost daily at the park for the kids to play and the moms to chat (and sometimes drink, because life). It's an interesting adult dynamic, because I can't think of any other friend in recent years that has known so much about the daily minutiae of my life as these ladies (aside from my husband). Seriously, the last time I had something like this I LIVED with the person (college roommate - nothing salacious!) (((In fact, one of the things I hate the most about having a long distance BFF is that I don't know the little things that go on in hers or her families life. But I digress.)))

Anyway, they know pretty much everything.

Which of my kids is a Wildling.
Which of my kids poops 7x a day.
Which of their kids swear they're going to marry one of my kids.
They can tell when one of my kids has had a bad day.
They feed them from their kitchens without hesitation. Knowing (and buying!) the snacks each kids mom finds appropriate.
They check on us continually if someone is sick.
They pick them up.
They drop them off.
They take them in.
They bring them home.
And I do the same.
I know which of their kids are bad sleepers and can tell when they've had a bad night.
I know when someone needs a dinner delivery because though she's fed her children, she's left herself with their PB&J sandwich crusts.
I trust these women to parent my kids almost exactly the way I myself would (sometimes better!)
We celebrate EVERY birthday together.
We celebrate every everything together.
They are my village.
They are my children's village.

Their kids run the same age gamut as my kids, and each one has it's own little bestie within the group.
Most of the girls are a little older than Piper, but she just thinks they're all SO awesome and squeals with excitement when someone offers a hand-me-down. And is always suggesting we give her hand-me-downs to the next youngest girl in the group, with the same sparkling eyes she had when she received them.
ALL of the kids stop and listen when G asks for their attention. One day he corralled ALL 11 other kids into a circle and passed out Popsicles. The moms wouldn't even be able to garner that kind of cooperation. (That kid is so charismatic, I wish he'd realize it.)
And every single "Driveway Kid" as we call them, calls Nash his nickname - Cubby. Which warms my heart like no other. Everyone loves little Cubby.

We have such a special group.

And we're breaking up. Because Army Life.

More another day. Because Mom Life.