It Takes a Village

There’s a 1966 song that still plays in my head, by Marvin Gaye called, “It Takes Two,” and statistically speaking, two people have proven effective in marriage. But when you have a crippling, neurological form of Lyme disease, no longer able to stand or walk, “It takes a village” of people to care for your needs and replace the former you. I have five neighbors who fill an appreciated service, as they come one day a week each, providing physical therapy and highly valued, “girl talk.” My husband has become chief cook and bottle washer, care taker, housekeeper, lawn mower, gardener, child nurturer, and dedicated Sunday School teacher, all while running his own business, mostly from home by cell phone and computer. He has many balls in the air to balance, so to speak, although claiming his are generally all lying on the ground. Three of our married daughters have volunteered and divide their time weekly as well, providing me with muscle soothing massages, five times a week. They along with my neighbors, provide a much-needed relief to my overworked, underappreciated, tired husband.

While my daughters massage, I am able to share in their lives and visit with my grandchildren. This provides for some hilariously, entertaining stories, and delightful conversation. It’s been said that, “Laughter is the best medicine,” and the stories about my grandchildren are more than entertaining. I must admit however, that these same experiences were not as humorous when they were happening to me as a young mother. But now I giggle under my breath, enjoying the mother-child scenes displayed before me in all their glory. It’s vindication somehow for all have gone through, having “been there, done that!” Now it’s their turn, realizing what they have signed up for and wondering why there were no specialized instructions with delivery.

Last week, for instance, my daughter, Ashley came to massage, bringing along three-year-old Isaac. Ashley’s older sister, Liz, was already at our house, doing her weekly house cleaning, a service we pay her meagerly for, but could never actually pay her what she is actually worth to us, as she does so many extras, like decorating Christmas trees, and organization projects. Liz brought her children too, Acacia, six and Joshua, four. Liz is normally an overprotective mother (I can’t imagine where she picked that up from, as I stop breathing watching Joshua climb our wall unit). However, on that particular day Liz allowed her active children to play outside on my neighbor’s swing set, giving Acacia her cell phone with our number programmed in, just in case Joshua decided to wander away. This was her plan, in order to be able to clean quickly and efficiently without whining children begging for her undivided attention. Acacia is a rule follower and very responsible. I could only imagine the brain cells churning in her head as she was probably thinking, “I’m going to be so good at this. I think I’ll be ready for my own cell phone.”

It was decided that Isaac could go outside as well, as he never gets to go outside without his mom. He agreed that he would stay by Acacia, never going near the road, with threats of having to come inside if said rule was disobeyed. (Where do my girls come up with this stuff? It’s like we all read the same mom book!) Anyway, less than five minutes later, Acacia called Aunt Ashley. “Ashley, Isaac is throwing rocks in my eyes.” “Let me talk to him,” Ashley demanded, rolling her eyes and muttering something under her breath about little boys. “Isaac, did you throw rocks in Acacia’s eyes?” she asked. I am thinking, “Of course he’ll say no. What kid would say yes?” To my surprise Isaac said remorsefully and honestly, “Yes.” “We do not throw rocks in peoples eyes,” Ashley patiently explained. “Say we do not throw rocks in people’s eyes!” “We do not throw rocks in people’s eyes,” Isaac repeated. “Tell Acacia you’re sorry,” Ashley instructed. “I’m sorry,” Isaac said . . . end of conversation . . . play resumed.

Five minutes later, the phone rang again. It was Acacia. Isaac had committed yet another infraction, bordering on a criminal act in Acacia’s mind. Once again Isaac was summoned to the phone and the conversation went much as before, substituting the new crime of course. Every 5-10 minutes there was a new phone call, sometimes with Joshua being the offender and sometimes it was just Acacia wanting to chat, hungry with her new found power. Finally, one last phone call and Isaac was again summoned to talk with his mother. The phone was on speaker and I could hear Isaac's reply in the back ground. "No thanks, I don't want to talk to her." He had obviously caught on to the conversational pattern occurring and didn't want to be bothered anymore!

We win some, we loose some, but there is always pay back for each new parental idea. Always, you can be sure that whatever worked yesterday may not magically work again today. The rules may change, but kids like to keep life interesting, least we become bored with our dull, uneventful days! Gratefully, if we are fortunate, we have family and friends to share experiences and ideas with. Living with Lyme disease and raising children are similar in that like the African proverb says, “It truly takes a village!”