A cautionary tale

Sometimes I complain a lot. Or too much maybe. Today my complaint is that our place would be cleaner if it weren't for my husband. It's terrible, I know. But truthfully, that extra dish, that jacket on the chair, papers about terminal systems and collective agreements on the table, the shoes askew at the front door, the keys beside the key bowl? They wouldn't be there if it were just me and my girl. But then I think, but also, all those balanced meals wouldn't be made if it weren't for him. The garbage would remain inside rotting. That deep voice comforting me when I need it. Or just making me laugh at something silly like bum massages when I'm moodish. He sits now with Bella watching Toy Story (for the hundred billionth time) and feeding her a delicious rapini, tomato pasta made especially and with his sure hands. Laughing at the jokes in the movie when he could probably recite the movie in his sleep.

I've been talking to him about creating unneccary fears in Bella. Like now, when we go down to the parkade, she cries and wants to be held while we walk to the car. Victor has said to her in his deeper than deep voice "it's dangerous, the cars, so BE CAREFUL". Then upset when she starts running for the car. That loud "no!". And now, she's associated running in the parkade with the loud no of his voice. I get upset because I want that fearlessness to remain for as long as possible. And maybe because it's a quality I admire in people. Unsafe, yes. But beautiful? Yes. I want her to be cautionary, not scared of things. And so I tell her to listen for cars when we open the door to the parkade, then walk slowly. "Don't be afraid", I say.

I understand where he's coming from. Old school European roots of fear from birth. Don't go outside when it's dark, don't run, don't get too close, don't don't don't. But that's no fun in my opinion. So it's a battle of yes and no. Or to re-phrase: a balance of yes and no. Like my parents, one different from the other. Each teaching me right and wrong and all the gray in between. I'm a lover of that grayness, the uncertainty of things sometimes. And I know she needs to understand the world of safety and caution. And I can only hope that she chooses what is best for her. What she believes is okay to do.

I'm taking a legal philosophy course right now that is really making me think about the nature of humanity. The origin of the human condition. We are limitless beings, seeking our every desire. We see this in our children. But society teaches us control. And Victor and I are her society. So I need to let Victor teach her those don'ts, while I teach her that sometimes rules are okay to break. To reason. And be a reasonable person. And with the strength and flair of her personality, I think she's got it down already. With years to come of learning and growing, I can't wait to see her shine in her nature, and nurture.