I had a sneaking suspicion. Now I know for certain:
WE ARE NOT WIRED TO BE ALONE WITH CHILDREN ALL DAY LONG.
Or even half of the day. A two hour playdate doesn’t cut it for adult support, encouragement, and relief. A one hour phone conversation with a friend isn’t enough.
I want my village. I want my women who go to the well with me every morning. The isolated nuclear family is a failed experiment. I want a shared community. Not a virtual community–though I would waste away without this online connection.
I want geographic proximity.
On my street, there are eight houses. Of the people who are home during the day, I can choose from: the old man who smokes while pulling his oxygen tank, the 98 year old woman, the Alzheimer woman who never leaves her house and once accused the neighbors of stealing her underwear, the third shift police officer, and the people who shoot guns at fake deer targets in the backyard.
Where are the mamas?
See, I have a 3 year old with unbelievable energy. I read somewhere that age 3 is the biological peak for energy levels. And then I have a 6 week old who cries when I put her down. So I wear her and sleep beside her and nurse her. And I love it. I do. It is amazing to care for this little one. But I could use some relief arms occasionally. My back could use some relief arms!
Who wants to start an intentional community? It might be a yurt community since houses aren’t selling and money is tight. I could live in a yurt.
As long as I have a village.