I Want to Be Her

This is probably my all-time favorite children's book: The Seven Silly Eaters by Mary Ann Hoberman, illustrated by Marla Frazee. I love it on so many levels. I love the cadence and humor of the poetry, I love the family life the illustrations describe. I love the momma with short curly hair and sneakers who plays her cello amidst the chaos of her kids. I want to be her, or be her best friend.

I love it that nearly every picture includes laundry piles and stacks of books and homemade food. I love it that the kids love their mother, and try to clumsily show it. I love it that when the kids make a giant mess and leave it, the pets lick it all clean by morning, and that mess yields a great surprise for all. I love the round-faced, personality-filled children. I love their old house on the lake with the kids all crammed in one bedroom on the landing. I love the woodsy bearded papa who is always trying to help the momma, who is often beyond help.

I don't really know why the book and the illustrated life the family leads entices and delights me so much. But I think about it often, even when I'm not reading it, the same way I often think of If You Give a Mouse a Cookie (another book I relate to all too well). The momma is usually ready to tear her hair out, but I still want to be her or know her. Not because I want seven kids (heavens!), or am willing to be a short order cook for the kids I do have. But I do have curly hair, I bake bread, I have strong-willed, energetic, picky children, and I want to play the cello someday.

Maybe I like it because it gives me hope that somehow, someday, all the chaos and failings that make up my life as a mother and wife might just all turn into a pink and plump and perfect cake.