Photo by Rotorhead
I suddenly notice that Boo is quite aggressive this morning. She’s a shy, withdrawn child so her behavior surprises me. When she uses Popo to smack Linus, I go over to her and say “What do you think you’re doing little girl.” I’m totally taken by surprise when she turns right around and says “Boo a boy!” I can also see that she’s trying not to cry. I pick her up and I’m shocked at the amount of self control this little baby has. She’s really struggling not to cry. She’s not even two. I get some cookies and I sit her on my lap. I have no idea why she thinks she’s a boy. It’s worse than I think because she won’t eat her cookie.
I gently ask Boo who told her she was a boy. I so expect her to say Linus did, that I’m totally stunned when Linus herself pipes up and declares “Daddy say Boo a boy.” I can tell by Boo’s reaction that it’s all too real and very true. Her little shoulders and chest are heaving and I kiss her and say it’s okay to cry. I don’t understand that at all. Again, Linus says in a little voice “Daddy say Boo a boy, Boo not cwy. Nina a girl, Nina cwy.” In that instant, the whole thing becomes crystal clear. I’m stunned and totally outraged at the same time. I already know that I can’t completely undo this terrible thing. It can’t be undone until he does it. Until he says she’s a girl and she can cry.
I hold them close and I have them both look at me in the eyes. I tell Boo that Daddy is a boy and that she, Linus and Mom are girls. I applaud and shout “Yay!” and Linus does the same. Boo at least smiles. “Listen to Mom,” I console, “You are a girl and you can cry.” “Daddy be mad…” Linus says it in such a tiny voice that I now get how scared they are and if he were standing here I think I would beat the crap out of him.
Again, I take their little faces in my hands and say “Boo, Linus and Mom are girls and we can cry.” And I hide my face in my hands and I pretend to cry. It actually makes both of them burst into tears. I feel so terrible but that’s what I wanted. Boo had to let go. And she did. She cried so hard and so long that I began to get worried. When the storm finally passed, I got out the crayons and books. We colored and chatted, my part of the conversation peppered with references to the fact that we three are girls.
I can’t even think of what to say when he walks in that door. All I know is that he’s going to fix this someway, and that he’s going to explain to me “why.” This is what he was doing while I was in the hospital…I so hate leaving theses babies with their father and that’s wrong. I should be able to that without worrying. He’s their father! I had to have surgery and I had to depend on him because there’s no family here. These two little girls know Daddy is the law and what he says goes. What they don’t know is that he’s wrong. They’re just little kids…just babies. Just babies who already have knowledge of being terrorized, and that is the worst wrong of all.
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