laananas (laananas) wrote in crunchycrunch,

The house with no doors;

I posted this in my personal journal, and figured it was on-topic for here, too.

Sometimes, I fantasize about living in a house with no doors.

I can see this house. It's at the edge of the woods. It has a big back yard.

We live there. Me, and my husband. We're free to make babies, and have babies. Have babies in water, on a bed, on the floor, in the woods, on a rock...we're free to follow our instincts. We sometimes have babies two weeks early, sometimes four weeks late. Sometimes they're fat and come out with rolls, sometimes they're skinny and come out bony. We don't know when to expect these babies. We can watch as my belly grows, watch the babies rolling and turning and twisting and growing, and get a hint as to when they'll come, but we know that they will come, when they're ready.

We grow our own vegetables, we pick our own fruit, we raise our own meat. My babies live on the food my body makes, for as long as they wish.

We have visitors, sometimes. Those who we really wish to see. The grandparents stop by and coo over the newborns, share their wisdom with the older ones. But we don't need other people. We go days, weeks, sometimes months without seeing people. We're fine with that...we just need each other. Our little family, our tiny village.

We don't know what "school" means. We do know how to count rocks, we know the names of all the birds and when each individual flower will bloom. We can tell time by looking at the sun, we know how to build a treehouse, we're experts at catching butterflies. We know love.

Our house is open. There are no doors, because we see no need for them. We have nothing to hide, nothing to put away in secrecy. We have a different meaning for "family room"'s not a place where we go to watch television. It's the place we go to sleep. This place contains two beds, placed together, to make one big sleeping area for the entire family. We don't sleep well if we can't hear the others breathing.

We have no television, no computers, yet, we don't get bored. We don't have clocks...we rise with the sun, we go down with the sun. We spend our days learning. Learning what it mean to be a family, learning about each other. We learn to read, and write, in our own time. We learn history, in our own way. We hear stories of past generations, stories of our family's history. We don't need science books. Our children have witnessed life, as it's being born. They've witnessed planting a seed, and watching it grow into a meal for the family. What is science, if not that?

We make our own clothing, for the occasions when we feel clothing is neccasary. We don't need diapers. We know our baby's signals; we know when it's time. We don't need a fridge; a microwave is not necessary. We don't need a table- a blanket spread over the grass is fine. We don't need cribs, or strollers, or bottles. Lights are not necessary. On the occasions when we stay up later, we light a few candles that the kids made the day before, for a "science" project.

We're free to cuddle and spend as much time together as we wish. We're free to learn. We're free to live.

We have cats that we rescued from the woods. They, too, are free. They come when they wish, and leave when they wish. They sometimes disappear for long lengths of time, but we know that eventually, a wish for food and some attention will help them find their way home. Sometimes, they find their way home with some new kittens in tow. We watch them grow, watch them learn to hunt moths at dusk.

We're free to ask questions. We know where babies come from, why the sky is blue, why the dirt feels so good on our toes.

We don't know what formula is, what time the newest hit show is on. We don't have access to the weather reports. We can tell this by looking outside: If it's raining, we know to expect rain. If it's sunny, we know we can play in the hose until we're blue in the face and have pruny fingers. We don't know what attachment parenting means, what crying it out is. We don't know of anybody named Ferber, or Sears. We do what feels right to us. We teach them in their own time. We kiss their boo-boos, we watch them grow.

We have no cars. We don't feel the need to escape.

We're free to love. We're free to live. We're free to be happy.
  • Post a new comment


    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded