What a Continuum Must Be Like

This weekend, Nana and Ria came to visit, for the first time since Kestrel was born. And I was given a breathtaking glimpse as to what it must be like to raise children within an intact continuum. For those not familiar with the idea, the Continuum Concept is a book by Jean Liedloff, that examines the idea that babies are born with certain expectations of family and social structure, called a continuum, and that part of what's so screwed up about our culture is that our continuum is broken. (I'm grossly oversimplifying here. Go read the book. Really.) I've long believed that the nuclear family is a bad idea. No sane human being gives one individual sole responsibility for multiple children and then locks that individual into social isolation, while simultaneously delivering the cultural message that the work they do is without value. It's an ugly setup, a one-two punch that demoralizes and devalues homemaking and careproviding, while simultaneously creating an environment of extreme stress and scarcity for a child. I mean, of course a child who has to constantly fight with siblings, the housecleaning, the bills, the cooking, etc., to get its needs met, is going to grow up with self-esteem issues. It's nearly a given. So picture if you will, a well-oiled domestic machine. Four adults, two children. There's always one adult for playing, one for working, one for resting, and one to do whatever occurs to them. As a person tires of one activity, they swap smoothly with someone else in a different activity. Each person stays within their own comfort zone, and what's more, they're *mindful* about what they're doing, because it's the thing they've chosen to spend their energy on, not something they're forced into doing because it must be done and there's no one else to do it. It was bliss. The kids noticed, too. By Sunday afternoon, when everyone had left, both boys were happy, grounded little people, ready to calmly cuddle down to sleep. And I was right there with them. And today, I'm back to the normal nuclear grind, singlehandedly working, riding herd on two boys, and trying to stay on top of the mountain of housework. I'm stressed, and so are the boys. They can tell I'm not focusing on them, so the escallation for attention has started. Maybe I'm just tired. Maybe I'm just a weener. Or maybe, I just really miss my continuum.