Sometimes I can’t decide where a post belongs; probably because I don’t know what I’m going to write about until I begin writing. And as this is my family history chronicle, the boy-child’s skating obsession definitely belongs.
Oh, and when he’s a famous film-maker (my pension fund), you can say you saw his work here first.
The other day I was doing the nostalgia thing … looking at old photos of the boy-child. I guess I knew it, but until confronted with the evidence I’d forgotten just how long skateboards have been part of his life.
I’ve lost count of how many times people have asked me how I cope with his hobby.
Am I not afraid he’ll hurt himself?
Yes, but I’m more afraid of trampling on his dreams, closing down his passions, stifling him and making him afraid – of pain and worse – of failure. I don’t ever want to see my son hurt, but I also don’t want him to grow up being afraid to challenge himself.
I know what that is like and if I could have my childhood again, I’d take broken skin and fractured bones any day.
And, on the plus side, my son has discovered that his niche…
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