Only Love

Babie Z had his first Sports Day on a bright Sunday morning on 25 May, 2008. He wore his favourite, soon-to-be-undersized Puma sneakers and told us 'he would be winning no matter what'. The event was held at the outdoor auditorium of the Bukit Batok Community Centre which was soon overcrowded with parents vying to snap pictures of their kids. Dadie and I were puzzled and somewhat dismayed that Babie Z had to line up with a row of N1 kids while all his classmates queued 3 rows away from him. By the time the kids gathered for their warm-up workout, Dadie had a simmering anger as Babie Z was surrounded by wailing N1 kids who refused to participate. Dadie was all for taking him home to spare him from 'further humiliation'. But I was curious about my son's behaviour in an akward situation and felt Babie Z could have interpreted the day's events rather differently from his overly protective parents. Other than ignoring his teachers' efforts to engage him in the stretching exercises and appearing rather bored, I thought Babie Z handled himself rather well.

Babie Z was assigned to "Passing the Torch" race which lasted all of......1.5(?) minutes. While I was busy elbowing and joslting other parents, Babie Z sped by, too fast for the shutter of my camera. Oh well. The outcomes of the races were unknown but all the kids were sheparded off towards the prize table to receive a medal each. Babie Z was terribly proud of his accomplishment and we were simply pleased that our son is pleased. Babie Z refused to relinquish his medal, insisting it is a 'very important item' and needs to be worn all the time. I only managed to take it off him with a MacDonald's Big Breakfast bribe.

Later that night during dinner, Dadie suddenly mentioned he was still nursing an acute discomfort over the morning's events. I sensed he wanted to pursue the matter by demanding an explanation from the Principal as to why his son was treated differently from the rest of his classmates. The unfairness of the arrangement had marred his fatherly pride of watching his son's first race. The situation was rather tricky. I could not possibly deny my own heartache, yet Babie Z had honestly not suffered any wear for the worse. I could not say I can understand what the centre's rationale was, but I could give a pretty good guess what their responses would be like. (Probably somewhere along the lines of "constraints" and "limitations" and "seek your kind understanding".) I did not believe any sort of actions would improve the situation but I was in no doubt that Babie Z would be affected if Dadie chose to seek justice in his own sense of the word. I asked Babie Z (happily stuffing his face with food) if he was happy with his Sports Day and he beamed at me. Of course.

A child perceives happiness without adhering to standards that only exist in the world of adults. It is by the imposition of our own principles that their world becomes distorted. Devoided of an adult's judgement (or rather misjudgement?), a child can derive so much more indulging in every little thing. Parents want the best for their children but this pursuit can sometimes be a double edged sword. Dadie must learn to accept Babie Z's joy for the simplicity of it. Whatever bitterness we feel is ours alone and it should suffice that Babie Z is untouched by it all.

The fact was, Babie Z was still relishing the memory of the Big Breakfast treat till the moment this Blog is published. Aren't we terribly typical, so eager to reward our son for the slightest acheivement? (Never mind that the original intention was to make up for what we thought was a rather lousy Sports Day). I guess parents spoil their children for rather similar reasons: immense adoration(a-ha!), weakness in refusal(uh-oh), guilt over neglect(tsk-tsk-tsk). I pander to Babie Z for fear of regrets. It is unbearable to lose each other knowing the other's last request was declined. Be it a tidbit, a ride, a show, a treat or a new toy. It is too small a price to pay for the companionship of my one and only Babie Z. Mothers with children pinned under the debris of the Szechuan earthquake must have so many regrets they cannot recouncil with. I love Babie Z everyday with a ferocity like it is the last I will see of him. Not raised in a family with a culture of expressive love, I did have some reservations in my earlier stages of motherhood. Babie Z initiatedthe family practice of smacking kisses. Our favourite game begins with the simple question," How much do you love Mumie?" to which he would reply, "I love you ten!". Mumie would 'up' him by claiming,"But I love you a hundred!" and he would retort,"I love you a thousand!". To date, Babie Z had already hit an all time high of ten million. Never, had even a shadow of doubt ever crossed my mind, that I only existed because of Babie Z. I might be Babie Z's caregiver but he, Babie Z, sustains my very life itself.