For a husband who "gets it," or at least does a pretty damn good job of faking it. This arrived with a note that reads, "Hang in there. You're doing a great job" the day after the twins simultaneously decided to declare war on us by crying uncontrollably from 8am until midnight.
For a friend who stops by with her super-cute son and a bagful of treats from a favorite bakery to make my 10th straight hour alone in my house with two "fussy" (read: inconsolable) infants and an "energetic" (read: spastic) toddler much more bearable.
For my best friend who came over on Wednesday night after working a full day at her stressful job to help me wrap a stack of Christmas presents, because she knows if there's anything I'm short on, it's time. (And also, patience, clean clothes, and the will to live.)
It may take a village to raise a child, a concept that has never meant more to me than right now, but it also takes a village to keep mama from fleeing said village with just the clothes on her back and the promise that she will return once the French au pair arrives.