Aicha came early to women’s conversation group one night. This was several years ago now; I was just getting to know her, and we’d only been in Mauritania a few months at that point.
I was still getting ready for the group, so I brought out refreshments and drinks, and Aicha and I settled down together on the low matlas that lined the wall, leaning back against our blue and gold patterned cushions.
“You’re not like other mothers,” she began, tucking her mulaffa back behind one ear. “You don’t curse your children.”
I didn’t get it at first, so she went on; “You don’t say to them, ‘May God shorten your life.’”
Shocked, I fumbled, “What on earth do you mean?”
Aicha explained that Mauritanian mothers all curse their children, even for what I would consider the minor annoyances of life. “Say you had a plate of cookies ready for guests and your child ate them,” she said, “Or you put new clothes on your child and he ran outside and got them dirty. You would say, ‘May God shorten your life.’”
This was my first introduction to Mauritanian parenting philosophy, and I was appalled. I’m not superstitious, but I do believe words have power. And no matter how angry I’ve ever been at my children, I’ve never even for a moment wanted their lives to be shorter.
I had other glimpses from my conversation group, those women who came each week to practice English and ended up becoming my closest friends and guides to the new culture.
“Which of your children is your favorite?” Hyati asked me one week.
Again, appalled. “I don’t have a favorite!” I protested. “How could I? I love them each as much as the others.”
It was their turn to be shocked! They all had favorites among my children. Aicha liked Elliot’s funny adult speeches best but Hyati preferred Abel’s charm and silky blonde hair; all the women adored Ilsa as they all hoped to have daughters someday. (I kept shushing them, afraid my kids would overhear) Not only that, they went on to tell me who the favorites were amongst themselves and their siblings. Aicha was her father’s favorite. Both of Hyati’s parents had favorites among her brothers. This was accepted as a way of life.
I opened my mouth and delivered a lecture. I didn’t want to put them down, but I think favoritism in parenting is a bad idea–especially favoritism at a level that everyone in the family knows about and openly acknowledges. I didn’t say so, but it explains a lot about certain dynamics in friendships. Moorish women tend to be very jealous and manipulative, pitting one friend against another and gossiping about everyone, and before this I’d chalked it up to the lack of power that women have in a male-dominated society. That evening’s conversation gave me a new glimpse into a life lived in someone else’s shadow–unable to be unconditionally loved by your own parents, a favored brother or sister always and forever preferred above you. It reminded me of the story of Joseph and his many-colored coat, gave me a hint of the misery of his brothers. So later when Khadi was bitter and cynical, twisting her mouth as she denounced the possibility of romance or happiness, it helped me see where she was coming from.
Yet I also thought of some wise advice I was once given, years before when we were still in Portland. I was hugely pregnant with the twins, and I had to go for non-stress tests weekly at the local hospital for about two months. I loved those times. I would lie back while the nurses attached little monitors to my extended stomach, then I’d relax in the quiet dusk of the room, the only sound the thub-thub-thub of the twins’ little heartbeats. After about half an hour, a nurse would come back and look at the readings. It was a tiny little oasis of calm and quiet, where I didn’t have to do anything but relax and ponder how much my life was about to change.
Usually the nurses would chat away while they were hooking me up. One, a mother of 4 herself, took it upon herself to talk about parenting more than one child; something I worried about. Elliot, then 20 months, and I were so close. How would we both respond to the addition of two tiny babies to the mix?
I’ll always remember something she said to me. “You will have favorites and that’s ok,” she said, “As long as that favorite changes. If it sticks, you and all the family are in trouble. But it’s normal to have times when you are closer to one child.”
Then she bustled out, leaving me to think over her words. I assumed they would come true. But they haven’t, not really.
I’ve never been good at picking favorites. Ask me my favorite colour, coffee drink, season…I’m at a loss. It depends; on my mood, on what season it is actually right now, on if you mean what colour flower or what colour t-shirt. And so I’ve found that I’ve always appreciated each child for the different things they bring to our family and to my life. I could never pick one because that would mean leaving out the others.
Aicha has two boys of her own now, and I wonder if she remembers anything of my long-ago lecture on the perils of favoritism. I know how much she adores them, but I wonder if she still opens her mouth and curses them when they annoy her.
I wonder how our friendship changed her. I know it changed me.
She’s kind of my favorite.
13 comments
November 8, 2007 at 7:54 pm
Kelly @ Love Well
Loved this post. It’s beautifully written (the last line got me) and full of interesting observations.
And as you noted, it gave me new insight into many Bible stories, from Jacob and Esau to Joseph. Look at what favoritism bred in those families! It’s not pretty.
November 9, 2007 at 9:08 am
Pieces
Fascinating. I have favorites of the moment–usually whichever child is giving me the least amount of grief.
November 9, 2007 at 9:29 am
Wacky Mommy
But I’m your favorite!
Ilsa is my favorite because of her crafty nature. Abel is my favorite because he’s curious about everything. Elliot? It’s our shared adoration of Viggo Mortensen, of course. “My friends — you bow to no one.”
http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001557/
I go back and forth with “favorites” with my own kids but don’t stick with one (unlike my own dear mother does. argh) — I love what your nurse said, that was so smart. The best parenting advice given to me and my husband was in the middle of an ultrasound, when the tech told us, in a speedy fashion, that her son was three, and “Here’s everything I know about parenting so far. After the baby gets here, your dog will be just a dog; it’s not the terrible two’s it’s the terrible three’s; and give specific choices: the blue cup or the green one? The yellow shirt or the blue? OK, that’s it, thanks you guys!” I was laughing so hard.
November 9, 2007 at 9:40 am
Rebecca
Oh my gosh, this was beautiful.
I don’t have favorites but I do feel differently about each of my kids – they ARE different people – with it all magically adding up to pretty much equal amounts of my overwhelming love for each of them. I should probably have a couple more and spread it out a bit thinner – it would be healthier.
November 9, 2007 at 9:40 am
Nicole
What a beautiful post! Thanks for the insight. Like Kelly, I’ll be understanding my Bible verses differently now. I too, have favourites of the moment, but they change rapidly. The best parenting advice I’ve received so far was to stick to a routine. My children thrive when they can predict the course of their day. And it makes special things more special, because they really are out of the ordinary.
November 9, 2007 at 1:47 pm
suz
Oh my,with my having four kids I love different things about each of them
and have favorite things about each of them and not so favorite things..haha..your children are wonderful!……….
November 9, 2007 at 2:08 pm
LIB
My daughters are so different, it is easy to see their unique charms. I used to say to A, “Your my FAVORITE blue-eyed girl!” And to V, “Your my FAVORITE brown-eyed girl!” It’s true that love expands expotentially. I remember, when I just had A, thinking, “How could I love another baby as much as this?” But, then I had V–and *pouf*–like magic–I had more love! Amazing.
November 10, 2007 at 1:13 am
meredith
This is a great example of how different some cultures can be. I think your friend was influenced by your presence, and maybe just a little, this will reflect on how she raises her boys just as you are now far away, you still think about her way of doing things, even if you don’t apply them to your life, Aisha’s ideas still intermingle with your own.
November 10, 2007 at 4:33 am
cce
I hope she took something of what you said to heart. It is hard to parse the cultural divide but hopefully your friendship guides her in some way.
I have always felt guilty for thinking one of my children is easier to be around than the other but it’s true. And while this is where we are as a family today, I fully expect it to change in years to come.
November 10, 2007 at 7:54 am
Antique Mommy
Fascinating and beautifully written. As a mother of just one, favoritism is not an issue. As the youngest, sickly and old girl in my family I think my brothers perceived me as a favorite and it has shaped our relationships to this day.
November 18, 2007 at 5:13 am
nan
I love the nurse’s words of wisdom! They are so true. That Arabic/Old Testament way of having favorites is so hard, and not only on the one who isn’t the favorite… My husband and his brother are becoming close only now that they are grownups with their own kids, and it is hard for him not to show favoritism with our kids.
My mother-in-law has favorite grandchildren, and says things that are completely weird “that one is a spoiled brat.” (he isn’t) “Come little honey, let gramma feed you this nice roti.” (in front of the “brat”!) this colours the relationships between her grandchildren, driving them apart. It makes me sad that Max will probably never be very close to Shane, who is just a few months younger.
Last term, all three of my kids won academic and art awards at school prizegiving. My MIL was invited but she was too tired to come. The next day, “little Shaney” graduated from preschool and she drove there with her heart bursting with pride.
These are all good kids, but my MIL is so blatant about her feelings that when Sam was just one year old and Chas was two, she was showing Sam to some family and said “who is my sweetest grandson?” and Sam said “Chas.”
Now that my brother-in-law Scott (the favorite) has kids, they are the favorites. Particularly the boy. Fatima will cook mountains of food, and drive to their house to drop it off. Scotts wife does not work, and has a maid who cooks, so she does not need the help. I work, and have no maid, but do you think Fatima will bring food here?
But if she needs help, I am the one she calls. “bring some vegetables on the way” and “can you roast the lamb, my oven is full” “will you be here early, you can pass out drinks” !!
I just smile and nod, and we spend less and less time with them. Very sad indeed.
November 19, 2007 at 12:33 pm
planetnomad
Wow, Nan, I didn’t realize your in-laws were Arabs! I don’t envy you this aspect of it. Sibling rivalry is difficult enough without blatant favoritism on the part of the adults. You’re right–it harms everyone involved. I hope that the kids and their cousins can be friends in spite of their grandmother’s favoritism.
March 11, 2008 at 10:33 pm
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