Socialist, Communist, Hippie

I've been called quite a few things in my time.  When you have an opinion on something you usually are.  But by and large, my favorite one is "hippie".  As if its an insult!

I suppose the reasoning for this goes back to my childhood.  My parents are amazing.  They managed to raise 5 children on one income and some extra cash my mom made by baby sitting.  A pretty awesome accomplishment if you ask me.  They did this by being old-fashioned and frugal.  In the excess of the 80's and 90's they lived a simple life.

We had a garden for most of our veggies.  All five of us kids were expected to do our part by weeding, snapping beans, and picking the rip vegetables.  What wasn't used right away was frozen or canned for the winter.  We always had homemade pizza sauce, pickle relish, and more setting next to cans of corn and green beans.  I can remember the long hours of canning with my mom.

Also a permanent fixture in our backyard was a clothesline.  Let me tell you, nothing compares to going to bed on sheets that just came off the line.  We had a dryer, but it was only used in the wintertime or when it was raining.

As for the clothes that hung on the line, those came from one of two places.  Either the consignment store or my mother's sturdy Kenmore sewing machine.  Once you outgrew something it simply went in a box to wait until the next person fit in it.

Babies were fed from the breast, not a bottle.  Not only because of the amazing benefits, but also because it was free.  Once a bit more solid food was needed, my mother simply hauled out the hand powered food grinder.  Whatever the rest of the family was eating, so was the baby.  No fancy, jarred foods for her.

On our bums were cloth diapers and rubber pants.  More laundry, yes, but a small tradeoff for the thousands they would have spent on disposables.

So with a childhood like this, how could I do anything else?

My little one had breast milk until he decided at the age of 1 that he was done.  I will admit I used jarred baby foods, but very briefly.  He liked feeding himself more so we simply gave him table foods.  His bum is fluffy.  Although my cloth diapers are a bit more advanced than the ones my mom used on me.

My garden is coming.  I hope that we get into our new house early enough to start one this year.  And since our landlord is my best friend I don't think she'll have a problem with it.  I also think she'll be okay with the clothesline I intend to put up.

Meals are made as much from scratch as I can. I'm slowly improving in that area.  People often give me a look when I decide to make my own spaghetti sauce or make my macaroni and cheese from scratch.  "They've spent millions of dollars perfecting the taste!"  they say.  Well, it's not about the taste.  It's about the ingredients.

I've taken the "hippie-ness" a step further than my parents. I like to wear my baby.  I love to grab a wrap and strap my son to my back.  That way we can explore the world together.  Both seeing what the other sees.  He is not stuck in a stroller staring at people's kneecaps.

I also do not let my son cry in excess.  It is his form of communication.  If you were to speak to me I would respond.  Why would I not do the same for my child?

So yes, I am a hippie.  A socialist, communist, hippie as my BFF and I coined ourselves one night years ago.  Believers in sharing, loving, learning from everyone and everything, and the power of wisdom.

I am damned proud of it.  Who wants to join me?