Flamingo in the Yard

It has been a couple busy weeks in the Paddock household. Last week my girlfriend Nichole, her husband Steve and their twin 20 month old babies (Eric’s and my Godchildren) came to stay with us for a nearly a week. Nichole was last in Denver for my bridal shower and her baby shower, so needless to say it has been a while. How joyful it was to hear the pitter-patter of baby footsteps as they chased each other across our hardwood floors. And there is really nothing better than a freshly bathed, pajama clad toddler with sleepy eyes and downy skin--the same kiddos who refused to sit on your lap earlier in the day now lounge sleepily in your arms and slowly succumb to bedtime. 

Our gathering in a nearby park scarcely resembled what it would have years ago: swinging singles with beers in hand exchanging tales of summer adventure. Those beers have been replaced by baby bottles and tubes of SPF1000 sun block. Conversations shift to gardens and children and pets and home-ownership, all things that symbolize the laying of a firm foundation, brick by brick. 

I read an article years ago when I was single. I regret losing track of it, though its content still resonates with me. It was about a married woman who grew resentful of her husband because he was not passionate about her crafts and hobbies. She felt as though he wasn’t connected to her and maybe he didn’t even really understand her. It went on to say that there is no one person who can (or who is even meant to) be your everything. We are meant to call forth community, to surround ourselves with people who fill various roles in our lives. No one person can wear all the hats. 

I adore the idea that it takes a village to raise a child. I firmly believe that to be true. One day, Lord willing, I vow to surround our child(ren) with people who wear hats of all colors, shapes and sizes. But lately I have realized that it takes a village to raise an adult, too. Who are we without the people who pick us up when we fall down? 

In our neighborhood in Denver there is a plastic, pink flamingo who sneaks his way onto certain lawns around 6PM on summer nights. This is a signal to our two blocks that a party has commenced. It’s an open door inviation to sit on our back patios, grill out, and build community. Eric and I are blessed to have the village that has raised us, the people who have gotten us to this point.