Coping With Terror

I wasn't planning on putting this on my blog, but my life as a mommy has been hijacked since yesterday morning, and I can't seem to get it back.

There was a terror attack in Jerusalem yesterday. Two men walked into a synagogue during prayers wielding a meat cleaver, knives, and guns. Four men were slaughtered. Twenty four orphans left on one street.

A young boy ran from the carnage. His father followed after him and became an easy target.

The crimson-stained prayer shawls and the blood splashed across the floor.

I can't.

One of the first fears that flashed through my mind was "How will I explain this to my kids?" I imagined Boo having nightmares, Bub refusing to let my husband leave his sight. How would my kids be able to cope?

Then a second image flashed into my mind. What about that child who ran away from his father, leaving him to the hatchet of a terrorist?

My mind blinks, and is blank.

I went through the motions yesterday. Gave my kids a snack. (Don't think about those other kids, half a world away.) Threw a load of laundry in the washing machine. (Those bloody prayer shawls!)

My kids wanted to play a game with me. Apparently I was the evil lion and they were the king, queen, and pet bear who were trying to defend the castle. I was roaring, defying their majesties. And then Bub cocked his fingers and made a shooting noise.

My heart shatters from the blow. My mind blinks furiously, trying to rid itself from the images.


I must do something. My husband walks through the door and my heart seizes once again. Why do I deserve this? What of those women whose husbands will never saunter in through the door again?

My husband went to synagogue this morning. I was juggling diapers, lunchbags, cereal boxes. An ordinary morning.

Wasn't yesterday?

Why I Read "Little House on the Prairie" to My Sons

When my older sister Lara was eight years old, she loved the "Little House" books. In fact, she loved them so much, that she named her younger sister (me) after Laura's little sister, Carrie. Isn't it great to be named after the only character in the book that barely ever talks and has virtually no personality at all?

Thanks, Lar.

Anyway...Fast forward a couple dozen years until I was expecting my first child. Okay, I'll admit that part of my dream of raising children was snuggling up with them underneath a chenille blanket on the couch, preferably in front of a roaring fireplace, and reading them some of my childhood favorites. Pollyanna. Caddie Woodlawn. Ramona. And of course...the Little House books.

And then I had a boy.

Followed by another.

And another.

That's right -- three boys in a row. My dreams were dashed. I started tearing apart the library in search of any of my old favorites that were gender-neutral. The Redwall books? Too gory for my little guys. My Side of the Mountain? Too high-level, abstract. Still, I continued to take out some of my old faves, even checking out one of the Little House books on occasion. (After all, Mommies can't take out books from the grown-up sections very easily with three little ones in tow, can they?)

I don't remember why I first bit the bullet and started reading Little House in the Big Woods to my boys. I seem to remember I was at my wit's end that morning and needed something to entertain them with. After just a chapter, my boys were hooked. And so was I -- hooked on reading the whole series, chapter by chapter, to my kids. Here's why:

• The books are perfect for boys. All the parts that disgusted me as a kid -- the part where the used a pig's bladder as a ball to play catch with, the part where they disemboweled a bear and roasted the meat -- were prime "COOL!" moments for my boys.
• My then-five year old was shocked when we read about Laura's doll: a corncob wrapped in a piece of cloth. "That's her only toy," he kept on saying. "But Mommy, look at her face in the picture. She looks so happy!" And as we looked around our jam-packed playroom, we experienced a rare moment of appreciation for all that we have. And for the idea that "things" don't create happiness.
• Laura is mischievous, but not in the way that many main characters in today's books are. She's curious, she feels she's "bad" sometimes, but at the end of the day, she loves and respects her parents and wants to make them happy. Rare in today's children's books.
• The books paints a very real picture of siblings. Laura feels like Mary is always the good one, and she's both resentful and competitive because of it. For those of you who have read about my boys before, it's a feeling that they can both identify with.
• We've already read through Little House in the Big Woods, Farmer Boy, Little House on the Prairie, and half of On the Banks of Plum Creek. Laura and Mary are finally going to school. The boys are excited for them. Yes, actually excited for them.

Come on, don't you remember Nellie Olson? Jack? Didn't you ever wonder how on earth Mary lost her eyesight (they gloss over it in the book) and what happened to Laura and Mary's grandparents in the Big Woods of Wisconsin? Go back and read them to your kids -- boys or girls. Trust me, you won't be disappointed.