The way my mother did it

When my kids get sick I turn into my mother.

I had asthma when I was younger that was really bad and when I grew up both my sister and I had chronic bronchitis. We used to get sick every year for what seemed to me like 6 weeks at a time, but was probably more like 2. She used to create a "station" for us in which we had books, piles of blankets, snacks and tons and tons of liquids. She was unflappable, a single mom who was (and is) one tough lady.

It always seemed like nothing fazed her when we got sick which is surprising because nowadays she is a bundle of nervous energy. When things got really bad she had us listen to Bernie Seagel tapes that directed us on how to meditate and take our minds off of being sick.

There is a picture of my mom and dad that is my favorite picture of all time. They are sitting on the steps of the Victorian house in Alameda that I grew up in. Both of my parents were hippy types and in this picture my mom has long straight red hair (she is a flaming redhead) and my dad sits with his black mustache and longish black hair. My mom's legs are crossed and both of them are looking down and reading something and clad in typical hippy 70's clothes. I don't know what it is about this picture but it captures their personalities perfectly.

Now that I have had kids I am even more thankful of the way my mom raised us. I would call it a "Berkeley type of parenting" since that is where we grew up.

She treated my sister and I like we were little people instead of kids and she could be heard saying often that "kids could do no wrong". We listened to music from all over the world, favoring the Gypsy Kings and the soulful voice of Nustrat Fateh Ali Kahn. She toted us to Ethiopian restaurants, Indian restaurants and Thai.

She let us run around naked when we were little and there are many pictures of our little bottoms in the backyard. She let us snuggle in bed with her and when my sister was born she let me nurse while my sister did even though I was slightly over 2 years old.

I loved all the Bay Area had to offer us and working for a newspaper my mom took us to it all. We went to a Christmas Waldorf fair, interesting lessons, and tooled around with just the three of us, my mom, my sister and I.

So it is with great pride when my best friend called me a "hippy mom" I agreed. I hadn't really realized until she said that how much the way my mom raised us was coming out with my own kids. "Hippy" in the kind of attitude she had about us, letting kids run free, exploring, letting us lead our own path. The only difference being that she had girls and I have boys.

When we moved up here (we rent an old organic herb farm) I found a patch of sage. I wasn't sure if it was sage so I decided to burn it because that would tell me. I kind of chuckled that I knew more about the scent of smudge sticks than the way it looked. It was and I dried some and taught Dustin how to smudge. I was so proud of that, teaching him something I grew up with.

At night when I think about getting Harlan to sleep in his own bed like he "should be" but instead secretly treasuring the feel of his warm body clinging to mine in the dead of night I thank my mom for instilling in me the confidence that when he is ready he will find his own bed. When I get frustrated that Dustin won't eat I hear my mom telling us how children are little people and I relax just a little. I idly thinking about weaning Harlan and remember how comforting being an older nurser was.

This whole piece is an homage to the best gift my mom could have ever given me, a wonderful view and ideology about raising kids.

For that I will be thankful in every smile I get from my own two little ones.

Thanks mom, and Dustin and Harlan thank you too.

Now I have a sick boy to tend to...