“MOM BLOGS!? Does anyone even read those anymore?”

It was an innocent comment. Made online. The kind you should ignore. Because it wasn’t meant to be personal, even though I had a hard time not taking it that way.

I responded with: “Yes, they do.”

What I wanted to add was, “Yes. Yes, they do. Just like you did. Remember? It really wasn’t all that long ago. It was just a few years, actually. It was back when you cared what color his poop was and which side he nursed on last. When you could quote current studies on immunization schedules and sniff peanut butter from a mile away. Remember?”

Some of us have older kids now. These days, we read New York Times articles and books without pictures, to nurture our own brain rather than our children’s. We meet friends for coffee and go out to dinner sans baby carriers or even high chairs. (Sometimes, we even go sans children.) Our kids read themselves chapters of books before bed, and we don’t even have to tuck them in.

Yet, this comment irked me.

Support for moms, the new and the old, online and in real life, still exists. And it’s still necessary.

I had two kids close together, and as timing and a miscarriage would have it, our third came a bit later than anticipated. A decade after my first “Mom’s Club” meeting, I have two feet firmly planted in two different worlds: I am a mom of older kids, and I am a mom of a toddler. I run to keep up with the big ones while my little one wraps himself around my leg.

I could find an online community to invest myself in, because some days, I still need to hear “It’s okay that the house is a mess and the laundry isn’t folded. You’re doing okay.” I could easily join another Mom’s Club or Preschool group, even if I’d be many years older than most of the other women there.

I revel in my baby’s smooth skin and teensy boy body, with the intimate understanding of how fast he will grow. I cherish the relationships and activities with my older kids, despite (still!) always feeling exhausted.

Not that long ago, my little one and I were making a quick stop to the grocery store and something flipped. Who knows what set him off? The fact I picked the wrong cart? That his feet didn’t go in the right way? I lifted him up too fast? Anyone with a two or three year old knows exactly what I’m talking about.

I know this moment, let alone, these days, are fleeting in the scheme of things. They are either forgotten or make good stories. (Remember that time a woman offered to pay for my bread so we could leave faster?) I know I shouldn’t get flustered or frustrated or embarrassed. But sometimes I do.

As my toddler screamed, an elderly man smiled and winked at us on his way out of the store.

“It’ll be nap time soon, mom” he said, with the supportive authority of a seasoned grandpa. “You’re doing a good job.”

In my head, I know there is nothing unique to a toddler tantrum. But because we also mother with our hearts, and mine is often tender and tired, I took his words and found myself wiping away tears – grateful for his offering of encouragement as I walked down aisle 10.

Because “I’ve been there,” (like, six minutes ago) I offered a smile and a similar word of encouragement to the mother I saw inching towards the very edge of sanity at the end of her grocery trip. She had a crying baby strapped on her front and her very own little man whining and falling and toddlering amidst a cartful of essential grocery items.

For those of us who’ve walked these paths and felt those feelings and even cried the tears – let’s try to be mindful and intentional in supporting other mothers. No matter where they are on their journey. With our smiles, our wistful looks, but most of all, our kind words.

For those of you who are deep in it, I want you to know, “It’ll be nap time soon, Momma. You’re doing a good job.”

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