A Trip to WeeklyReaderville

Whenever it’s time to deal with a new level of recovery/self-improvement/growing-up, I revisit my childhood to try to identify the origins of my toxic behaviors.  Now, in direct opposition to my Roman Catholic upbringing, I believe that we are all born innocent, good, clean and holy.  Not a member of the “Original Sin Fan Club” sorry.  Not even a member of the Catholic Church any more either, but that’s a whole other blog. OK, so I sift through my childhood looking for things that may have planted ideas or beliefs in my mind that turned out badly.  Generally speaking these are things that may have been a huge help or kept me sane during childhood, but just aren’t working now that I’m an adult trying to live a successful grownup life. 

So the things I’m looking for on this trip are things related to my toxic relationship with food.  Not sure why but I started thinking about the books and record albums I loved as a child.  I started on Dick and Jane readers like most kids in the late 60’s.  No toxic food messages there.  Can you imagine?  

See Jane. 

See Jane sneak. 

See Jane hide food under her mattress. 

See Jane purge.

The Seven Dwarfs and Their Diamond Mine, an LP featuring the story of the Seven Dwarfs post-Snow-White-kisses-the-Prince.  It’s been a couple of years since Snow White married the Prince and moved into the castle, leaving the Dwarfs on their own again.  The story starts with them getting up and eating breakfast.  Aha!  *digging deeper* instead of porridge for breakfast, they eat soup!  There’s a lively little song, The Music in Your Soup – hmmm, nothing toxic about that. While on this particular street in Disneyland, I'm reintroduced to the cover of the album, something that I loved so much as a kid: the sparkling, richly colored gems spilling out of the mine carts.  My first real job was in a jewelry store.  Coincidence?  Maybe.  Moving on.  

The Tale of Peter Rabbit.  Hmmmm . . . . Peter is an overeater and disobedient to his mother’s instructions about Mr. McGregor’s garden.  He tears up his clothes and ends up sick from overeating.  The Disneyland record album Peter Cottontail features a similarly disobedient little rabbit (read: "mind of his own) who loves to eat clover, and the song Whistling Rabbit which I'm now gonna have stuck in my head for who knows how long.  ♪♫ I've got a whistling rabbit, It whistles when you grab it ♪ ♫ 
Not much there.  Moving on!

We Were Tired of Living in a House. Four kids, the cat and the dog are tired of living a traditional house, so they move to a tree, a raft, a cave and finally the seashore collecting and packing up things from each place. They soon discover problems with each new dwelling and move on to the next, finally moving back to their original house.   The 1969 version I had was illustrated in a basic black white taupe color scheme punctuated with red here and there.  Delightful to this day, I have vowed to read this to my grandchildren the next time they ask for a story.  OK – back to the hunt for truth . . . being tired of living in MY house was certainly true, but nothing about eating in there.  Moving on.

Alexander and the Magic Mouse. Known to me as Alexander and the MagicAL Mouse until years later when I found it on eBay, this is without a doubt my all time favorite childhood book.  The artwork is lovely, as is the story.  The Old Lady lives on the top of the hill with her animal friends: a bitchy Brindle London Squatting Cat, a Magical Mouse, Alexander – an Alligator from China who loves to admire his smile, and a Yak.  One afternoon during their daily tea time, the Magical Mouse announces that it’s going to rain for 30 days and 30 nights.  They begin gathering supplies for the impending deluge, specifically “flour and molasses and marmalade and strawberry jam and pickled watermelon and ginger tea.”    

Can I get rained in with them!?!    

The Old Lady realizes that the poor townsfolk don’t have a clue about how long the rain will last, so she makes her way down the hill to deliver the message.  When she sees that it’s too slippery, she enlists the help of the Yak who also returns because the bridge is washed out.  That leaves Alexander.

                                                                                                                                                                                           

Remember, Alexander is an a-l-l-i-g-a-t-o-r and people are afraid of alligators so the townspeople run from him even though he is smiling his most beautiful smile. “There are many people who cannot tell the difference between and alligator who is smiling and an alligator who is not smiling.” Finally a little boy speaks to him and delivers the note to the Mayor of the town. By the next morning the Old Lady can see that the townsfolk are sandbagging so she knows they got the message.  But where is Alexander?? 

Finally Alexander arrives home, but he is in terrible shape and very ill.  Everyone does their part to help him recover, but it’s not looking good for him – he doesn’t even smile!  In the middle of the night the Old Lady visits the Magical Mouse to ask her what can be done.  The Magical Mouse points to a white cake with pink sugar letters reading, “For Alexander”.  The Old Lady feeds the cake to Alexander, who recovers of course.  It’s a close call for the town as well, but the wave is stopped by the sandbags and they all live happily ever after.  Voila!  Here was the connection!!  When you’re sick – eat.  When you feel bad – eat!  When you’re bored – eat! 

Well now that would be a “story” in and of itself.  The truth is I didn’t develop my toxic relationship with food until several years later, around age nine.  To be honest, I’m not sure why I first had the idea to pick up the bottle of Aunt Jemima and gulp it down.  I’m not sure it even matters. 

The net gain of strolling around WeeklyReaderville was the positive connections I found.  Hold up the front cover of Alexander and the Magic Mouse in any room of my house, and the two look like they came out of the same color palette.  Goldensepiaoliveredandgreen.  And all the characters in the stories were nice . . . well . . . except for the Brindle London Squatting Cat, but you can’t have everything, right?  Thank the Weekly Reader Gods I had those books growing up. They provided a rich fantasy world for me to escape into, and an example of sanity, respect and caring that I didn’t get at home. 

Sometimes a childhood book is just a childhood book.