Why would you let other people raise your kids?

For a lot of good reasons, actually

“I would never let someone else raise my kids.”

This comment came as it usually does: while I sat in a room full of moms, sipping lukewarm coffee and shit-talking other mothers. I had exactly one able-bodied child at the time, zero childcare, and already I could feel my muscles tightening in frustration. It was 2017, but I know this conversation is still going on in church basements and living rooms and library play areas around the country. I know it, because I’ve heard it, again and again and again.

I used to get more defensive: of course I’m not letting someone else raise my kids. Nobody else is hustling to them at 2 in the morning when their beloved stuffed piggy slipped through the slats of their crib. Nobody else is rocking them back and forth as they burn from fever. Nobody else is scooping them up as they wail Mama! and nobody else is the main discipler in their lives.

But the more I think about it, the more I realize that other people are, in fact, helping to raise my kids.