It takes a village

I had an epiphany recently as I was dropping my kids off at daycare.

First, I dropped off Anne Marie. We walked in the door, I helped her out of her coat, and she ran over to the area with the play kitchen. I waved goodbye, she waved goodbye and smiled.

Then Thomas and I went down to his room. As I was putting him down, his little legs were going a mile a minute. As soon as he hit the floor, he was off. He smiled, ran around the table three or four times like he always does, then chose a chair to sit in next to his friends, who were waiting for the teacher to serve breakfast. I waved and said goodbye, but I'm not sure he even noticed. Another little boy was being dropped off as well, and his dad struggled as he set him down and the little guy put his head on the floor and cried.

I feel incredibly lucky to have kids who feel comfortable in different places, but I feel even more lucky that my children have many different people who they trust and love.

It really does take a village to raise a child. No one replaces a mother and a father, but my kids are lucky enough to learn from their grandparents, their caregivers, their uncles and aunts and a myriad of other people who have already influenced their lives. We are really blessed.