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Sometimes, she looked at Toriel and wondered ‘why can’t I be like that?’, which – wasn’t that a ridiculous thing to think? There should have been very few scenarios where Carol would ever want to be more like Toriel, because she had built the life that she had off of the premise that it would be – that it was – ideal.
But then baby Noelle would be crying in her arms inconsolably whilst young Dess pulled on her pant leg whining about the noise, and she could only feel frustration at it all. Dess had been precious the moment she’d been born, with Noelle’s arrival receiving similar fanfare, and really, she would do whatever a mother had to for these kids, but nothing she ever seemed to do made them happy, and trying to cradle them just drew forth more exhaustion than could ever be natural.
And then Toriel didn’t have this issue. Toriel’s kids behaved well for her, and perhaps it was something about her gentle touch, the fuzzy smile, the soft tone she could actually get her voice to take – all things that even Carol had enjoyed about her in the past – but it was such a far cry from the way that Noelle was now leaning away from her touch as Carol stroked the side of her face. It was just that her hands were cold, she told herself. But there was nothing she could do about that; it was just how she was.
Motherhood suited Toriel so well, but then where did that leave her? She wanted kids, wanted this kind of life. Because it was what she had spent so long planning and preparing for, and because she loved Dess and Noelle, but… She was not so sure that Dess and Noelle wanted her.
Even Rudy did not have the same sorts of trouble pleasing the children as she did. And that was a good thing, because at least that left one adult in the house that she could pass Dess over to when the girl needed someone to play with, or to finally concede Noelle to because it had been hours of ineffectual attempts to fix whatever she was crying over, and Carol had work the next day. It was just not the same with him, because he was her husband, and because he was not the girls’ mother.
There was a different set of expectations there. A different set that Toriel had settled into with far more grace than Carol ever could have expected, remembering the drunk, clumsy girl from college, and that it seemed that she specifically was failing.
She sorted feeding, clothing, bathing, soothing, and God, she really had tried playing with them like Rudy did, but it was never her arms that either of them seemed content in. Unlike Toriel’s young boy, perfectly content with his mother. Carol knew she had to be doing something wrong. She knew that she was performing this duty that she had shaped her life around wrong, but perhaps she was just simply not built for it – perhaps there was simply something wrong with her – because she had to look at Toriel whenever they brought the kids together to play and wonder ‘Why can’t I be like that?’ until she was disgusted enough by the notion that she banished it from her thoughts.
It wasn’t fair, frankly. But she’d never spent her life relying on fairness. Wouldn’t that be just a ridiculous notion? ‘It isn’t fair’ would suggest she’d left ‘it’ up to chance, and then that would most certainly be on her. Perhaps this was different because she just didn’t know how to not let have chance have its way when attempting to bond with the children.
Carol would learn. She had to, because if she ever felt such prominent, obvious jealousy over Toriel again, she would have far more severe problems yet.
“Asriel always seems remarkably attached to you,” she said.
And she wasn’t asking for advice, just making conversation. Because Rudy and Asgore were with the kids and she certainly didn’t expect Toriel to let her just remain in silence.
“Remarkably?” Toriel asked. “Oh dear. I hope you are not trying to suggest that you suspected that I would struggle to love my own son!”
Of course that had never been in question.
Carol coughed. “Let me rephrase. You do not seem to share the same… difficulties bonding with Asriel that I do with December and Noelle.”
It felt wrong to admit to any actual difficulties. Certainly, she would never speak of anything like this outside of the comfort of her own home, because was it not a deeply wrong thing to admit to? A mother who had always intended to be so, and yet could not perform the duty right, when the time came.
“Carol… I did not realise that you were having difficulties,” Toriel said, frowning.
“Don’t lie,” Carol scoffed. “You saw Noelle earlier – she does not like me. And surely you recall that it was not so different with Dess. I thought perhaps at first that December simply had my own stubborn spirit, that it was somehow a fluke, but since I have clearly been failing twice, I must call my experience difficult, and wonder what it is that I am doing wrong.”
Toriel was staring at her strangely. “They are young children… Of course they will be fussy. I do not think at all that it is because either of them do not like you.”
“And yet they show clear preference for Rudy,” Carol dismissed.
“That does not mean that they dislike you!” Toriel argued. “I think you are exaggerating their behaviour, Carol. I have not once seen Noelle or December look significantly discontented with you. They are young… so everything is scary to them – all of the new experiences that they do not know how to handle, and all of the problems that they just cannot fix for themselves. They are not upset with you… I know that you love them both very much.”
That wasn’t enough, Carol thought. Clearly she was not doing enough for them. What did it matter that she cared about them if she couldn’t make them happy? If she couldn’t do what was best for them?
“I must be a bad mother, then,” she said, flippantly, scowling, “if I am unable to show them that.”
“Carol!” Toriel gasped.
“What? If you do not have advice on how to fix that, then I don’t think you should be commenting on it at all. Don’t act so surprised… I’ve already explained my reasoning.”
“I know that you do not like it when people point such things out to you, but it is flawed reasoning!” Toriel insisted.
Carol bristled. “I don’t care what you point out to me. Say whatever you like. Do you think that I am so thin-skinned as to be bothered by it?”
She’d heard worse before, obviously. Like most people hadn’t had some truly choice words for her back in college. Like she could not point out her own flaws internally far more ruthlessly than warm, loving, motherly Toriel ever could.
“I was not implying that,” Toriel said softly. “I think you are a very strong woman, Carol. I do admire you for what you do, so do you really think I would try to just say what I believe you wish to hear? I have nothing cruel to say because none of it would be true.”
Was she averting her eyes? Blinding herself?
“I don’t need you to be cruel. But I have trouble believing that you are not simply mistaken.”
“I have not been free from troubles with Asriel myself, you know,” Toriel hummed.
Of course she hadn’t. That would be a totally unreasonable expectation to have about a baby, because they could not communicate their needs without causing some small modicum of trouble. And Carol had seen it herself too – Toriel’s exhaustion, the frustration she had been desperately trying to hold back at Asgore when he could not effectively sits with his son, the difficulties with the pregnancy itself… Of course there had been troubles.
But Toriel was making it through them smiling, was she not? She loved her son, yes, but on top of that, whatever she did with him had made him learn to smile back at her. She was doing what Carol should have been able to, and frankly, though it was selfish, and though Rudy was doing a far from poor job, part of her wished that she had Toriel assisting her instead.
Because then the children would have a good mother. That had to be to the reason.
“Don’t pity me…” Carol sighed. “I am aware of that.”
“Then why are you so harsh on yourself for your own?”
Carol clenched her fist and looked away, unable to meet Toriel’s sweet, caring, motherly eye right now.
“Do you know how it makes the rest of us – makes me feel, standing next to you, when you can prioritise your family so easily, and they all seem to adore you for it? You are good at this. I am not, and when I see you and Asriel bonding as expected, just perfectly, it…” she scowled, “it makes me feel inferior. But that is a ridiculous notion.”
Despite the graveness with which she had made her confession, Toriel’s response was to begin to laugh. Carol could not keep her eyes averted at that, clicking her jaw in irritation – a very familiar sort of irritation at a very familiar sort of laugh that took her right back to her college days – as she turned to see Toriel’s face, as it had sounded, puffed out into bright giggles.
“I am not laughing at your predicament, C!” she quickly assured. “It is just that this is how the rest of us usually feel, standing next to you.”
Carol swallowed thickly. “Oh.”
“It is not a bad thing! We all, I especially, admire your abilities. But it is amusing for me to here you say such similar things about me… I am just a normal mother, I think, nothing more special.”
Was that true? It was about Toriel, so it didn’t sound it at all, but Carol felt too out of her depth to refute.
“Fine, then what would a ‘normal mother’ advise me to do to help my children?”
“Well, you love them both, so that is good, but… Perhaps if you had more time to show it? I know that you are naturally a very hard worker, but I think Noelle and Dess would likely enjoy getting to see their mother more,” Toriel said.
“That work is what provides for them. Rudy stays at home with them,” she scoffed.
Yes, but we all know you work much longer than necessary just to provide. You would have enough and more taking hours off each week! I believe that a mother should be able to prioritise what is best for her family.”
And unfortunately, Carol agreed.
“It will not make a difference when they already do not like me.”
Toriel frowned disapprovingly. “That is in your head, Carol! Are you not still willing to try for them?”
It would be wrong to say no. She would always be willing to do whatever it took for her family – for her daughters. They were both so young, but she would move the entire town for them both already. There could be no questioning that.
“I am,” she conceded. “I could… minimise my hours some days, I suppose. On the weekends, perhaps.”
“I think it would do you a lot of good as well.”
There was no denying that motherhood was extremely taxing whilst trying to stick as much as possible still to her job. She refused to acknowledge that to Toriel, though.
“A negligible difference,” she dismissed. “And what should I do if we are truly such incompatible sorts, me and my daughters?”
“Do not give up on them,” Toriel said.
“I would never,” Carol replied, cold.
“Then I think that they will both come to love you back through that frosty expression just the same as we all did,” Toriel said warmly, pinching Carol’s cheek. Carol shook her off exasperatedly.
“If you say so.”
It was an uncomfortable concession. But if she was to look at Toriel and want to be like her, then it would be hypocritical to entirely dismiss her advice. Nothing was particularly solved, because the shame and exhaustion persisted, but… Some part of Toriel’s reassurance had rung true. Her motivation was right, it seemed. Her heart was in the right place – and been the whole time – apparently.
So perhaps she wasn’t broken for these struggles. Perhaps it simply, was unfair.
That didn’t mean she was about to bow down to chance any more so than she would have before, in any other situation.
In truth, Carol never actually understood the full extent of Toriel’s advice to her until it was not her own child that was attempting to console – it was Toriel’s. Toriel’s second child.
Dess and Noelle were lovely girls, but Dess’s stubborn streak was a mile wide, and she took such frustrating glee in disobeying Carol. Noelle was still really too young to imitate her sister in any such way, but she was quiet… Quiet and careful. A perfect little angel in so many ways, but Carol never truly got the sense that that was because of any parenting she had done. She loved her girls and perhaps her girls did love her as she’d hoped, but the doubt – the creeping fear of failure up her arms, gnawing at her mind laying in bed, watching her through the windows as she tried to keep an eye on her children – never went away with them.
But despite their young age, Kris seemed to understand her. Toriel had trouble handling them, perhaps due to the cultural differences, but they laughed with Carol. Their mischief seemed prouder, less defiant like Dess’s often was, with Carol. They inspired the exact right level of attention from Carol, and as such, it felt natural to care for them in a way it never had for either of her own two actual children.
She wrote it off as being because this child was not truly her responsibility, even if she cared for them still. She had less to fear with Toriel’s child, because with them, it was only Toriel with such a struggle bonding. There would never have been the same shame to be felt if she was bad with her neighbours’ kid.
It levelled the playing field, she thought. It helped her understand, just a little bit. But it still didn’t quell the envy – the wish that she still sometimes held to be as natural all the time as Toriel was with Asriel, or apparently as Carol herself could be with Kris.
It cut just as cold as before. It cut just as deep as before. It cut just as a blade perceived to be held against a mother by her own shoulders always would.
So in the end, the advice never mattered any more that it initially had.