Challenge #02583-G026: Ma Yub

There are two kinds of parents. There's the kind that thinks their children should have the experiences that they had when they were a child, and there's the kind that thinks their children should have something better than that.
The problem with being that second kind, I've found, is that it's hard to give your children something better when you don't really know what that looks like. -- Anon Guest

Bringing up the next generation of cogniscent life is never easy. Certainly, the basic caretaking falls into a pattern. Clean, dress, feed, and hold. Communication in all its forms tends to take place anyway. It's after the child surpasses the basic needs that the trouble begins, because education will occur whether the parent thinks they're doing it or not.

The two primary patterns of parenting are Sharing, and Expansion. Sharing includes all the good experiences of the parental childhood into the experiences of the child. Expansion improves on the past of the parent, so that the child has a better life. Easy for some.

Dan knew that he couldn't Share. Not his childhood, with the terrible neglect and the yelling and the harsh blows for the least infraction. The shouted, "Did that teach you? Did that teach you?" with his parents looming over him. It taught him, all right. It taught him things that it took years of therapy to get over. It taught him what not to do with an iron rod and the threat of hellfire. He was, he hoped and prayed, the very last of the Abused Generation, doing his utmost to see that his children could not ever suffer. So far, so good. It was the next step that had him baffled.

The house was obsessively child-proofed. There was no glass, no crockery, nothing fragile that could be shattered into sharp shards anywhere. Corners were wrapped about with foam. Everything was non-toxic. Everything was soft. Everything that could be climbed by a small and delicate baby was surrounded by mats. Mozart played softly in the background and baby Gee watched as Dan talked to his therapist in the middle of the pillow pile. Gee was teething on a chamomile pouch. Ice cubes of chamomile tea in a velcro'd pouch of terry towelling. She had a special cushion to help her sit, and a soft beanie that, for now, kept her cosy. In a few minutes, Gee would tear it off and laugh as Dan panicked to get it back on.

Dan spoke in a soft voice, as he always did when a baby was present. He had abhorred loud people and still flinched when the volume got too high. "I've done all the easy stuff," he said. "She's clean, she's healthy, she has all her needs. I talk with her, I read to her... but soon? She's going to want other stuff and... I don't know how to handle that. I... I'm afraid I can't handle it. I worry that I'll spoil her and turn her into a brat. Or... I'll be too strict and she'll come out..." he trailed off. He knew he shouldn't say it. Self-depreciation wasn't permitted. He had to think of himself in positive terms. "More than a little hyper-anxious about getting everything wrong."

"Love and attention, along with co-play is important," soothed Therapist Kaal. "You're doing great. Worrying about what the future might bring helps you be prepared. Remember what we practiced..."

"No is not a bad word," Dan almost chanted. "No can be a good word."

Secure in her soft perch, Baby Gee joined with the rhythm of the chorus, though most of it was vowel sounds and basic consonants. "...na ga baha goo ma," she babbled. She was weeks away from her first word, and it might be 'no' and that stabbed Dan in the heart. He wanted to wrap her up in softness and never let the cruelties of the world touch her.

Therapist Kaal caught the look on his face. "Babies will repeat what they hear, so it's natural that she'll hear your mantras. She won't know what they mean, just yet, but she will repeat them, and that's okay."

"...an nath ogah," said Baby Gee.

"Have you tried referring to yourself by a parental handle? Mama, Papa, or so forth?"

"I don't feel right being Dada or Papa... I birthed her before I transitioned and... that was a mess." Trauma, screaming, blood and the worst day of his life followed by the most precious gift. Gee would never have his pains, no matter what she decided about herself. He'd vowed that with the blood he shed for her, in the pain he endured for her. She did not deserve to touch his suffering. "Renny is... a little too complicated. Pripa's kind'a the same. Dropping the consonant from the -ah- traditional ones... That just confuses everyone. I think... I think I can handle 'love'. Love is here. I've just started and it's awkward because I call her 'love' too."

"Love works," said Therapist Kaal. "Love always works."

Baby Gee, tired of teething, sitting, and watching, threw herself onto all fours and crawled towards her parent. She was getting stronger. She was always getting stronger and it made Dan so heartsore to watch it. The world could hurt her in so many ways. Yet she smiled, squeaking with each move, as she made her slow and wobbling way to Dan's knee. A new, trusting, needing life; coming to him with a smile on her face.

"Hello, love," he cooed. "Hello, bubba."

She crawled into his lap and, as he held her, he knew he'd have to prepare her for the trials of the world beyond this cushioned paradise. Just... not today. Not yet. Let her get a handle on walking and talking and potty training and eating her own food.

"I want to give her more than I ever had... but I don't know what that might look like," he said.

"You've made a fantastic start," said Therapist Kaal. "All you need to do is remember that there is help, now. Whenever you feel lost, frustrated, or alone; help will come if you call."

Perched in Dan's lap, Baby Gee wrapped her pudgy arms around his neck and smushed her face against his. "Ma yub," she babbled. "Ma yub."

He kissed her cheek. "That's right... my love..."

The important part was right here.

[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / famveldman]

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