Do you have a “good” baby? By Gaia Grant

“Good” answers need good questions

Think of the single, most often asked question to mothers of new babies, and you’ll probably have to agree it’s:

“Is he a good baby?"

I still haven't thought of a good answer to the "good baby" question, and having an almost one year old I've been asked it often enough in the last year. Mostly, it seems, people just expect a simple "yes" or "no" response, yet I can't quite identify a suitable answer. I’m worried by the implication that a baby can be either good or bad. I’m concerned that we think it’s possible to categorise behaviours and motives as simplistically as this. And I’m terrified that my own children might be so simply categorised and be thought of as “bad” or “naughty”. I'm often tempted to launch into a philosophical treatise on the merits of placing value judgements on innocent infants, but usually time or social courtesy effectively muzzle me.

Working out what these questioners mean by "good" is often the first challenge. Do they want to know if he eats or sleeps well, or doesn't soil his nappy too much? Do they want to know if he's happy and healthy, contented and well-adjusted? Do they want to know how clever he is, or how morally upright he is? Or do they just want to know how well I'm coping with parenting, if I've got everything under control?

Usually, I think, the questioner is wanting to know a combination of the above.

One particular time I was asked that question it was by a lady who had an 18 month old child of her own.

"Nine month old babies can only be good, can't they?" I said on that occasion, breaking the social acceptability barrier.

"My baby has been naughty ever since she was born," she responded.

"How come?" I was fascinated.

"She always gets her way. She takes a long time to get to sleep, she eats what she wants and not what we want her to eat, and she just won't listen to us. She runs the household."

I knew of another two month old baby that was also described as being naughty because he cried a lot and was difficult settle. "He's not sick," an interfering aunt commented, "he's just being naughty." The poor mother was, understandably, distraught at the prospect of facing life with a baby who simply wouldn't do the right thing.

Is this a common way of thinking, that children are capable of willingly choosing to be disobedient right from birth? It has certainly become a common perception in the last few centuries in western cultures. From Puritan times, there seems to have become ingrained in our culture the belief that an individual is born in sin and must be trained to behave appropriately.

It’s interesting, anyway, to reflect on our apparent focus. Because, often, our language shapes the ways we think, and can even end up influencing our actions, the “good baby” question can have significant repercussions. We can end up worrying about whether our child is able to meet up to certain unexpressed but clearly implied standards, and start to make judgements and comparisons. This, in turn, may affect our expectations, so that we start to act in negative, unproductive ways as parents, and our children can suffer.

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Amongst the Navajo Indians, that first, most often asked question was quite different. Any visitor to the mother of a young baby would traditionally have immediately asked:

"Has he laughed yet?"

In this instance, what do you suppose the enquirer was looking for? It’s quite possible that the indigenous enquirer was looking for the same sort of information, asking after the general welfare of the baby, but the emphasis appears to have been quite different. Even if the mother could not respond positively to this question, she would know that the day would soon come when she could give a positive answer.

As soon as a baby laughs, we have the first indications of pleasure. From birth, crying gives us a clear signal of when the baby is distressed, but it takes some time before we can be sure that a baby is “happy”. The first laugh, then, is the first expression of contentment and satisfaction.

Apparently the Navajos saw the first laugh as so significant that it was eagerly watched for by all family members and friends and celebrated with a ceremony. Both of the baby's hands were held directly in front of him, and a pinch of salt, some bread and some meat were placed in each hand, and then these foods were taken away again. Some fresh lamb would then also be distributed to relatives and friends. The “first laugh” ceremony was intended to teach the child generosity, perhaps emphasising that true contentment and satisfaction comes from giving and receiving.

The “first laugh” question, then, can shape the expectations of the parents in a positive way, helping them to focus on the pleasures a child brings and to realise these pleasures can be theirs with time.

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In the part of Indonesia where I live, it’s customary to ask the mother of a young baby:

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"Has he bathed yet?”

I couldn’t count the number of times I’ve been asked this question, and initially I was quite insulted by it. I took the question to be a reference to poor hygiene standards and to inadequate mothering on my behalf, but I have learnt to understand that it is, in fact, a positive reference. In these oppressively hot and sticky conditions, a bath is a welcome refreshment and break, and sometimes it is only possible to face the day when you are feeling renewed. Also, because water can be difficult to get, a bath can be considered to be a luxury, or an indulgence.

Again, this question appears to be a general enquiry about the well-being of the child. The child’s contentment and satisfaction are apparently the major concern. The Indonesian language does not encourage a definite “yes” or “no” answer to this question, but the mother’s answer is usually either “sudah” (already) or “belum” (not yet). In other words, she is not made to feel that there is a definite standard she may or may not be reaching, but the baby’s contentment and satisfaction are ensured - it may just be a matter of time.

After this, the most often asked question to children and adults alike is, “Mau kemana”, or “Where are you going?” Like our own use of the phrase, “How are you?”, it is usually an enquiry after the well-being of the recipient. But unlike our more static questions, which tend to tie people down to a time and a place, the Indonesian question has a subtle dynamic. It implies that you are have a purpose and are heading somewhere definite in life. The Indonesian does not expect you to go into a detailed explanation of your destination, just as we would rather not hear the explicit details of someone’s state of health. It’s as though they want to know if you are progressing.

Again, expectations seem to be clearly defined by positive future possibilities. These questions do not require limited, dead end answers. The answers can be open-ended insights into the future.

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Our language holds great power, and we should take care that we are using language which focuses people in a positive way and allows for the range of possibilities for positive parenting. We see what we expect to see and hear what we expect to hear. Our attention focuses our expectations, so perhaps we should remember to give attention to the pleasures of parenting that we can all enjoy and share, rather than those which may separate and divide ourselves and our children into positive and negative categories.

Ensuring the child and parents feel contented and settled may be the first step in helping everyone adjust to the challenges of parenting. Helping the parents realise that many of the more difficult phases of parenting can be more easily overcome with time should make a difference. And starting to focus on the delights and pleasures that a young child brings reminds us that it is all worthwhile.

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Gaia Grant is currently living in Indonesia with her family. She is author of “The Rhythm of Life” (Transworld), which gives a revealing insight into how other cultures raise their children.