We started when they were little ones – infants, babies, toddlers and grade-schoolers.

We stepped tentatively into the community with a post. Reached out to find others. We formed a bond.

We formed a community.

The world was a bit smaller for our camaraderie, our shared triumphs, our ‘misery loves company, our cheering each other on, and maybe just a wee bit of shadenfreude.

Our kids started to grow, and so did the community and the eruption of social networks, viral feeds and competition for STUFF.

Our kids are now rapidly approaching those teenage years (or, as in my case, I have one that is exiting them). They aren’t as cute or adorable, and the stories are more difficult to tell in their search for privacy, and our confusion and pain and sense of loss as their youth turns into a searching grasp toward grown-up-life.

Social media has reduced our sharing to sound-bites on Facebook and Twitter (or not – does anyone use it anymore?) or Reddit or…okay, I admit it, I’m a social media dunce…what do people use now?

I can’t remember the last time I saw a blog post in my FB feed…and if I even clicked on it.

That all ended 3 days ago when a real, honest-to-goodness BLOG POST came across my feed. I’m not sure what it was about it, or why I stopped…except maybe that it was a BLOG POST! From an old friend I used to read all the time.

Whatever it was, I stopped. I clicked. I read a post by the fabulous Ali over at Cheaper Than Therapy (check it out, it’s awesome). Thanks to the click I made and the ensuing Facebook conversation it sparked, I realized something.

We still need each other.

Speaking from experience, teenage years are HARD.

I mean, brutal.

In so many ways I feel like we barely made it through the teen years with Denver, and we have two more coming up…worse, they’re girls.

I could use my community now even more than I did then – I think we all can.

Parenting never gets easier, and it takes more than sound bites.

I hope we can share again, I know I plan to. I have a list of posts waiting to be written.

I hope you’ll join me, and Ali, and the rest of us still struggling through this parenting gig.

We’re stronger together.