Parenting
Growing up, I was obsessed with the Little House series. I read them over and over (except for Farmer Boy—sorry, Almanzo). I never missed an episode of the show. My sister and I would play Little House together, though things got a bit dull once Mary left for good. Being the older sibling, I always had to be Mary, which meant I was stuck in a different town from Laura and Nellie. Nevertheless, Little House was a massive part of my childhood.
This winter, I dove back into the entire series, followed by Pioneer Girl, Laura Ingalls Wilder’s annotated memoir. The stories were just as enchanting as I remembered, and I relished revisiting the characters on their journey across the pioneer era.
One night, just before Christmas, I was reading The Long Winter when I had to head down to the basement to switch my laundry. The chilly basement made me grumble while I held a pile of damp clothes. Just then, a lightbulb went off in my head: “Ma Ingalls would think I’m a jerk right now.”
Since that moment, my Inner Ma has been my personal reality check, reminding me of how ridiculous my modern-day woes are. Here’s how my Inner Ma has put me in my place lately:
- Me: Oh no! I’m out of salted butter. I’ll have to use unsalted on my English muffin.
Inner Ma: Remember when we moved from Wisconsin to Kansas and had no butter until Charles traded for a cow? The cow even tried to kick him when he tried milking it! - Me: Another snow day? Ugh!
Inner Ma: There was a winter when blizzards kept the trains from delivering supplies, and our whole town nearly starved! - Me: My son’s glasses are scratched and bent, and I dread driving to the optician.
Inner Ma: My daughter lost her sight, and we sent her away to Iowa for her education. We didn’t see her for months! - Me: My husband has yet another business trip. I wish he didn’t have to travel so much.
Inner Ma: My husband moved me across the country more than once, and I had to churn my own butter! - Me: My bra is making me sweaty.
Inner Ma: I wore corsets under long dresses that covered me from neck to ankles. - Me: Why is this app update taking forever?
Inner Ma: We sometimes got old magazines sent from the East. - Me: The deer keep munching on my rosebushes!
Inner Ma: We dealt with a grasshopper plague for three years that ruined all our crops! - Me: Ugh, the porta-potties at the park are disgusting.
Inner Ma: Our outhouse was pretty gross too, especially when the wind blew! - Me: What’s that noise outside? Are those cats fighting?
Inner Ma: What’s that noise? Is it a bear coming for our livestock? - Me: Great. The kids have a dentist appointment, so I’ll miss the gym.
Inner Ma: We didn’t even have dentists on the prairie. I got my exercise churning butter!
I wish I could say that my Inner Ma has turned me into a less annoying person. Unfortunately, I’m still the type who complains about app updates and sweaty bras, but now I at least feel a bit foolish about it. As much as I adored Little House, living that pioneer life is not something I would want to experience. I can barely fathom the idea of churning butter! However, checking in with Ma and the Little House crew helps me gain perspective when life gets overwhelming. Sure, motherhood in 21st-century America can be tough, but at least we have indoor plumbing and mostly encounter squirrels, not bears.
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Summary:
In a humorous reflection, the author shares how the character of Ma Ingalls serves as a reality check in her life, reminding her of the struggles faced by pioneers compared to her modern-day complaints. While the nostalgia for the Little House series remains strong, the author acknowledges the conveniences of contemporary life that make parenting in the 21st century a bit more manageable.