I always thought I’d be a “hippie” mom. I’d make my own baby food and my kids’ clothes, let my children roam the earth, choose their own path in life, and become free independent spirits. When I was pregnant, I read Dr. Sears’ baby book on attachment parenting, stocked up on compostable diapers, and planned to breastfeed on command. Then my son arrived into this world with an ear-piercing scream and defied all my best laid plans. I realized within minutes of my first mothers group meeting that I am SO not a Berkeley mom. While the other Berkeley moms were contently nursing their babies while recounting the ease of their home births, I was embarrassed to give a bottle to my boob-rejecting son and was reluctant to admit that I had a drug-induced labor and epidural. When my second child was born, she came too fast to get an epidural. I never knew that I could scream so loud. After the mess was over, my husband said, “Now you can tell all those Berkeley moms that you had a ‘natural’ birth.” True. But I’d rather have had an epidural.

In coming up with the title of this blog, I googled “Berkeley Mom” to see if the term really existed outside of my little enclave, and came across a page called Your Mom is So Berkeley. It’s pretty funny. While I can laugh at some of those ‘other Berkeley Mom’ jokes (some of which I may be guilty of), this blog will not poke fun of the Berkeley Mom. This blog will simply share the coming & goings, doings & eatings of this Berkeley mom.

I have lived in Berkeley three times in my life. The first time was for college in the 90s. The second time was post-wedding in 2005 when my husband did his masters at Cal. And the third and final time was in 2008 when we decided to take root permanently and start our family here. I now have two small kids and love living in and around Berkeley. I don’t drive a Prius, but did consider getting a Suburu Outback (the other official car of the bay area). I’m not vegetarian, but I don’t have to eat meat either – I just like to. I shave my legs and believe in the power of deodorant. I guess this makes me not so Berkeley.

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