When I was a child, I had a very special china plate. This is it. Around the outside is an excerpt from "The Tale of Peter Rabbit" The picture in the centre of the plate is scratched from 30 + years of fork stabbings, knife sawings and spoon scoopings. Obviously Beatrice has inherited it and from time to time the story is read to her.
Then at Christmas she received this..
Her Daddy spotted it and was unable to resist it! At bedtime now we are working our way through the collection. Of course the first book we selected was the "Tale of Peter Rabbit". I was totally unprepared for Beatrice's response to the story, which to me is a silly little tale...to her it was a thriller! If she had to have been seated she would have been on the edge of her seat. As it was she was pulling the quilt up to her nose and grabbing onto my arm whispering "he will be OK won't he Mummy?" At the conclusion, she was a nervous wreck.
I had never anticipated this! But this little event impressed upon me that her experiences are not mine. While I have a wealth of experience of story, film and life, hers is much smaller and it reminded me to take care with what she sees and hears, because how she interprets it is not how I would. It also excites me. That I can be a witness as the world unfolds around her and she begins to experience a wealth of things. Stories that are old to me are new and exciting to her...characters like Jo from Little Women or Jane Eyre, whom I consider old friends are totally undiscovered to her. I can't wait until she meets Bilbo Baggins, or Owen Meaney, or Atticus Finch!
Another little thing that Bea has inherited from me is the Johnny Town Mouse figure. When I was a girl, Mummy bought Christopher Robin for my brother Christopher and Johnny Town Mouse for me. He was placed very high on a shelf and I was NOT allowed to touch him, let alone play with him. When I discovered I was pregnant, I bought the Foxy whiskered gentleman because he was just so dapper. The both sit on the wall shelves in Bea's room. She will occasionally hold them and talk to them. Imagine her excitement when she spotted Johnny in one of her bedtime stories! He had to be lifted from the shelf and cuddled. His little china snout tapping the page whenever he did something of note.
When we began the "Tale of Jemima Puddleduck" the Foxy Whiskered Gentleman was duly acquired and whispered to throughout the story. Imagine her horror when it was revealed that he was not a nice creature, rather the seducer and potential consumer of poor Jemima! Bea couldn't reconcile someone she loved being so cruel. Despite all the evidence to the contrary, beautifully illustrated by Miss Potter, she defended the Foxy Gentleman and ascribed totally different intentions to his actions. I'll be honest, when the farm dogs came to Jemima's rescue, a tear or two was shed.
Who would ever have believed that reading Beatrix Potter books could be so traumatic!
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An entirely unrelated trauma
(otherwise entitled the Tale of the Thumpity Thump)
This evening, Bea was walking down the stairs. She was wearing smooth, non woolly tights (no grip...you might be able to predict where this story is going)
On the top step she lost her footing and landed on her bottom, which she used to bumpily bump down the first two stairs. Unfortunately her ruffely dress was also made of slippery fabric so she twisted 90 degrees, and bumped some more. Then she managed a full 180 and a tumble emerging in a crumpled, upside down heap at the bottom. My heart was still at the top of the stairs as her Daddy rushed to her from the kitchen and I scooped her up. Crying she said "I'm OK" bravely trying to reassure the bits that remained of her two parents. She then assumed a very worried expression and asked "where has my other voice gone?"
The tights were hastily removed and Bea proceeded to 'get back on the horse immediately' as she marched to the top of the stairs and then back down several times before she announced "It's OK, my feet are working again".
