We had an idyllic weekend.
Even though “technical difficulties” kept us from leaving when we wanted to, and meant that we only had one night away from home instead of two, it was a peaceful and relaxing weekend.
We went to the lake, and the weather was beautiful. The kids played non-stop outside. Exercising their imaginations and their muscles in the very best way possible. (While thinking they were only having fun!) I sat on the porch and read a fabulous book.
It was idyllic. I sighed with happiness multiple times and tried to soak it in.
Part of the beauty was the parallel of the book I was reading. Caddie Woodlawn. It’s meant for ages 9-12, so it was a quick and easy read, but reading it brought me the delight I remember from reading similar books at that age. Honestly, I don’t know how it’s possible that I had never read this book.
As I read this pioneer story and nodded my agreement in how they structured their family, I realized that this book probably influenced my own mother quite a bit in her parenting style (I’ve heard her talk about how much she loves this book), and therefore indirectly influenced my own style.
And although I was caught up in the wonderful childhood adventures of the story, and the environment of discovery and joy-in-living that I strive to provide for my children, I started to think about my role in the story.
Caddie and her brothers were living the childhoods that I want for my children, but where was their mother?
She was doing her job. Cleaning, cooking, taking care of the home. Yes, she expected them to do their part, but her role was providing the environment for them to fully experience childhood.
That’s the mama I want to be.
I’ve linked this up over at Bookin’ It at Life as Mom.