Little House in the Big Woods

A couple of P's older friends have been reading the Harry Potter series. So P thought we should give it a whirl. We borrowed the books and by the time the fictional parents were knocked off and Harry was living, unloved, under a stairway (this was, what? page 3?) the Little Man was moving on to other stories:) Full disclosure: I had briefed him (fairly figuring his reaction) but he was determined to try, and so we did:)

Thankfully, we had plenty of P suited stories waiting in the wings. The Paddington Bear chapter books are a big hit. Its just small little adventures, no death, no evil ;) And the vocabulary in this series is outstanding. He's also loved the Cricket in Times Square series. Once again, simple adventures (ie. a cricket visits Chinatown for a tea ceremony), no death. But the book that has had him really, really riveted, is Little House in the Big Woods.

Its the first novel in the Wilder series, when Laura is P's age, and they live in, well, a little house in the Big Woods of Wisconsin. There is death (and, come to think of it, not much adventure), but its beautiful. P was on the edge of his pillow, hearing the fine details of Pa's venison smoking in the hollow tree. Playing with an aired pig's bladder sounded wonderful to him. He was fascinated by the intricacies of Ma's butter making, the cooking of the pig's tail, the harvesting of the pumpkins. The rhythm of their house, the changing of the seasons, it was all familiar (we follow a general rhythm each day and each week and each season) and as informative as reading an encyclopedia. But one that only tells you the kind of stuff you really want to know :)

Everything this family did a century ago is exactly what P would like to be doing right now. When Laura and Mary gathered nuts and then spent the day shelling and roasting them, P asked me to promise that we would do the same. When Grandpa and Pa harvest maple syrup, P was motionless, listening. He wanted to try pouring little bits of the cooking syrup into snow pans to make homemade candies too! He wanted to watch Pa clean his gun, and Ma make cheese. He told me, night after night, that he wanted to move to this place and do all of these things. Minus the spankings, of course. This was unspeakable to him and he tuned it right out, determined to love Ma and Pa ;)

Then, last week, as we read a picture book at the library, I got an extra dose of guilt. (Another mom and I were recently remarking on the layers of guilt mothers feel. I often feel immense guilt (alternated with immense relief;) for giving P no siblings, she feels immense guilt for giving her son a (much wanted) sibling. Apparently, there's just no escaping it, there's always something to feel guilty about :) Anyway, we read a sweet little story about a kitty that is nervous, everything is being packed. And then the kitty is packed into her carrier too! She wakes up to a light-strewn deck, overlooking a flowery meadow and a forest beyond. The child, moderately listening, immediately gasped. "Oh, Mama! I want to go to sleep in a carrier and wake up there too!!!"

Once again. Does the child long for light strewn meadows and dirt to dig in because he lives in NYC and these things seem novel, or is it an intrinsic part of P... and therefore we suck horribly?


I really don't know. My guilt meter is full for today. Hopefully, for now, re-reading Little House tomorrow night will do...