Since today is my eldest offspring’s 28th birthday, I cannot help wanting to write a word or two regarding my experience as an American mother living on a remote farm in Norway. And so…. When my x-husband first brought up the subject of having children I was utterly terrified. I could only envision pink, polyester, cartoon-bedecked baby clothes from K-Mart, Pampers, and plastic toys with batteries: all the worst aspects of modern-day child-rearing, none of which I could abide by…. In addition to the afore-mentioned horrors, the thought of sending any of my children to a state-run indoctrination camp was simply insufferable.
…. Therefore, I struck a deal with my wuzband (as my dear friend, Mary Stowe, would say): if we were to embark upon child-rearing I would have to insist upon certain stipulations: 1) I would only use mid-wives and refuse any drugs or pain killers whilst giving birth. 2) No vaccines or other big pharma products for my babies. 3) My children’s diet would be 100% biodynamic, or at the very least, organic, with plenty of raw dairy products! 4) No state-run indoctrination camp attendance; a combination of homeschooling and unschooling was the only alternative I could accept. 5) No plastic or battery-operated toys; wood and natural fiber toys (preferably home-made) ONLY. 6) No “disposable” plastic diapers EVER, under any circumstances; I insisted upon old-style square, organic cotton diapers with lanolin-wool diaper trousers on top (which I knit), even though this meant carrying buckets of ice-cold water with a yoke from the fjord and boiling the laundry-water on the cook stove, then scrubbing said diapers with a washboard and home-made pig fat soap that we grated with a cheese grater………. 7) No pink or polyester baby clothes; only wool, cotton, and linen attire allowed, preferably hand-knit and hand-sewn by myself, and NEVER pink (even though I adored pink peonies and pink houses! 8) No cartoons, EVER, anywhere; but old-fashioned fairy tales, Beatrix Potter, “Little House” books, and anthroposophical literature were allowed. 9) No television, let alone computers, for our future wee ones; I preferred a life without electricity and all modern conveniences for my offspring, in fact. I was very inspired by the work of Weston A. Price and adhered to his philosophy throughout my four children’s upbringing.
Yes, I was, admittedly, a very demanding mother-to-be: we did strictly adhere to the above child-rearing tenets and, according to my four children, their childhood on the farm was magical o verily, even if there were also certain hardships to endure, such as a freezing cold farmhouse, goats repeatedly breaking down the front door and eating all the bread dough that was rising near the stove, and the expectation that everyone partake in chores such as wood-chopping, milking, hay-making, butter-churning, berry-picking, and weeding my immense vegetable garden: these tasks were not always joyfully attended to, but they had to be done. And as my wee ones grew older, perhaps they no longer appreciated being dressed like Old Order Amish children, and became curious about the outside world. I did not try very hard to prevent them from exploring life beyond the farm, and when some of them decided to investigate what the state-run indoctrination camps were like I tolerated their decision; and when my daughter wanted to wear blue jeans I did not whip her with a leather belt, like some fanatical homeschooling parents I knew in Sweden did…… I believe I laid a most excellent foundation of my own spiritual and philosophical values for my children; but I realized that, at a certain point, I would have to let go…. Twenty eight years later, I must say that they are all rather extraordinary beings, even if we don’t always agree upon whether or not Bill Gates is a philanthropist or Joe Biden is a corrupt politician…. I love all my kids for who they are! I did my best to raise them according to my understanding of the universe at the time, and motherhood on a farm in the desolate north was truly an extraordinary and fulfilling occupation…….
- Jenny Hampe Endresen