the little one has a blog. a blog! this 9yo who doesn't have much social life besides going to school, coming back to do homework and playing with her cousins. she started a blog recently, probably due to peer pressure and it's seemed as happening to have one. it's good writing practice, i suppose but it still tickles me that she's an official blogger now. plus she has her own facebook identity. whatever happened to barbie dolls and make believe cooking and tea-time?
i'm at my wits' end at the moment. she's having panic attacks in the middle of the night, right when i'm sleepiest and craving for my warm bed. she believes robbers are capable of scaling 23 floors up in order to enter our apartment. for what purpose, i have no idea. it's not like we have millions stashed in the house, my dear, i tell her. it's not worth the risk of losing his grip and falling to his death. but she won't hear of it. i tell her that it'll be more worth their while to go rob a bank or something. but nooooo, she says the bank is heavily guarded, so they won't want to risk that. such acute analysis from a little girl freaking out.
i think it's the news. and the fictional plot of movies. they are scaring her to death, making her believe that she will fall into misfortune any minute of the day. it doesn't help that there are constant reminders by everybody to hang on to your children tightly when you go out. or crazed teachers who deem it fit to go into details with children about the deaths and sufferings of the people in sichuan, china and the tsunami ghosts. the gory details, the sufferings, the sadness, these aren't things you should go into depth with a child. once told, it's hard to untell the story. you can explain to her that we don't have earthquake and floods here, that it's one of the safest place to stay but i don't think her inner reasoning will accept that. especially not when she thinks people will go through many levels of securities and scale 23 floors to rob her measly few dollars.
it's hard to be a responsible parent. on one hand, you can't shield her from the reality of life forever, and a little reasonable dosage to tell her the other side of the world is necessary, so that she can be on the alert, to be conscious, to be aware that bad people do exists, that bad things may happen. but on the other hand, too many will just plainly freak her out. knowing how sensitive she is, i don't tell her the unhappy things in life but it's hard to stop others from telling her. plus movies nowadays always have to center on somebody dying. without fail. used to be that the actors and actresses have to hold a cigarette in their hands, but now they have to die to make the plot more attractive. them or somebody close to them anyway. what's with that, hollywood? stop freaking my kid out. some people get to live to ripe old ages you know.
she can be said to be so mature, too mature for her age. but she can also be said to be so innocent, and so pampered. my kid. what do i do with her?
7 comments:
start them young these days... even at 9!!!
haha like mother like daughter, did you blogroll each other?
dear zewt: next thing you know, they'll type their first words in a blog instead of saying out loud.....ma...ma.
dear wuching: cannottttttt, later all the humsup old men like mr kfc go kacau her blog. *grins*
ha..ha..ha....
we have been relieved of the headache, and yours is just the beginning. ha..ha..ha..
dear licky: really?? at what age will you be relieved of the headache?? i tot once a parent, always a parent, and u'll worry until u die.
I doubt anyone can really protect their kids 100% and 24 x 7.
All you can do is equip them with the right principles and virtues, and be there for them if they need help.
dear jonzz: that is true. but the guilt, the endless worrying, wondering whether you've done enough, you've done too much, you've done anything at all?!! cos ultimately, if something goes wrong, u can never live with yourself for the rest of your life, much less look at your own face in the mirror again. u worry, yet u have to push them to be independent. sigh! parenting sucks.
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