Monday, October 28, 2013

With eyes closed

Kit in a quiet moment. Rare.
Life is very exciting with Kit around. I've seen him sped down slopes on his scooter bike with nary a care in the world. Then he'd fly over his bike when it stopped suddenly after hitting a drain/curb. I've chased after him when he zoomed off and jumped straight into the deep end of the pool at three years old and no, he couldn't swim then. I still remember the scene: him disappearing into the pool while I'm still 2m away, arms outstretched.

With him, life is sometimes like watching a disaster unfold on TV in slow-mo. I see the sequence played out frame by frame, with a drawn out, strangled "noooooooooooooooooo" coming from me.

Sometimes, I feel like closing my eyes when I see him speeding down yet another slope, nearly hitting yet another a jogger. He's too fast to stop. I hold my breath when I see him run down a slope, trip over a rock, and at the last minute recover in time to land on both feet safely. I look to the skies when, instead of standing at the side of the longkang (drain) to catch fish, he squats and swims with the fish and explore mouldy rocks. I am praying for intervention, that he doesn't drink the water while he's at it.

There's a strong urge to close my eyes but I don't. I may need to avert an accident.

But I close my "eyes" because childhood is about exploration, getting hurt, having fun, and picking yourself up after a fall.

No one warned me parenthood is such a delicate balance.

(Photo taken with a LC-A+ using Kodak Portra 160 film.)

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