It takes a village to raise a child. Or make you feel better after dropping your baby.

People often lament that today's mum is sold short.

The world is too busy, she is too busy, dad is too busy, so on and so forth.

They say it takes a village to raise a child but everyone's too damn busy.

In real life, I have few in-the-flesh girlfriends. Most of them have not put their uterus' to use yet and the ones that have, do not live near by. Sometimes, I find myself longing for someone I can bitch and moan about my bastard kids motherhood to over a cuppa.

I have my nearest and dearest around to have mah back but I'd love my village to, you know, boast a few more mamas for those occasions where you gotta be a mother to understand the mother!

A few weeks back, I dropped Abi.

Yes, mother of the year material, I know. 

I had her in the bouncer out the back, the bouncer was propped up against my hip as I went to walk inside, bouncer rolled off my hip and baby girl went crashing down, still strapped in the bouncer. 

To say I was distraught would be the understatement of the century.

With tears streaming down my face and a terrified, screaming baby in arms, I scooted Amelia and Oscar into car. We barrelled down to the medical centre, me making tearful phone calls to my Mum and MC and Amelia in the back saying "Oh Mum, you dropped Abi. You dropped Abi!" I spent that whole drive berating myself for my stupidity and praying that she wasn't going to suffer any kind of brain damage. WHAT KIND OF A LOUSY ASS MOTHER DROPS HER BABY? Dramatic, I know but if you've been there, then you understand that anger you feel toward yourself.

I am so, so very happy to report that apart from a horrible little bruise on her forehead, Abi was fine. Smiling like a doll and nursing like a champ within the hour. I was more traumatised than she was. Pretty she's long forgotten about it and yet weeks later, I still think about it and when I do, my stomach lurches down to my bum. Not pretty.

But I digress, after the whole le baby drop incident, I uploaded a photo of Abi's little noggin to Instagram.

I don't know why I did. But in my usual chronic oversharing on the interwebs fashion, overshare I did and the response, my god, was overwhelming.

So many others mum, sending love and sharing their own MOTY moments in a bid to make me feel better.

I was shocked.

The support flowed and as I read each comment, I felt a sense of bonding with each commentor. A shitty thing to be bonding over no doubt but those words, their understanding made my heart warm.

Being a total wimpy biatch, I may have even choked back on tears a few times.

People are busy and the world keeps turning but there, right there on Instagram and FB and Twitter and this blog here, lies my village. 

You probably have that too in some way, shape or form.

Social media is responsible for some amazing things and I am ever so grateful that it enables me to have a virtual village of absolute lovelies who have mah back.

And of course, I have theirs x