Sweet Moments

One of the best times for me and Beth to have really intimate conversations is on our way to or from kinder.

With the weather dropping to 5 deg these days, we hitch a ride with hubby and get to kinder super early, like 1/2 hr before handover. While waiting for her teacher to arrive, we have breakfast, do funny hop-skip-jump exercises that I sometimes make up on the spot (it's easy and all kids love jumping around), and chat.

On the 20-minute walk home (which always takes longer because kids love to dawdle), we make regular stops for Beth to practise tightrope walking on the edge of the kerb, for me to lecture about road safety and the importance of looking left-right-left, we muse about the progress of the builders working on the units on our street, check the water level of the "longkang" at the entrance to our estate...

I tend to talk to Beth as if she were my peer in age and maturity, so no topic is off limits.

Life.
Death.
Friends at school.
Friends at church.
How to behave.
How NOT to behave.
God.
Tall tales one of us makes up on a moment's madness.
Dreams.
Nightmares.
What Baby J might be like in 5 years.
Going to Prep and having to do homework and sit for tests.
Friends and family back home.
Whether Scottie will freeze if left out in the yard.

Then there's always the unexpected "Do you 'member?" when she'll suddenly make reference to a video or a TV programme we've watched, or a story we've read together. And I'll have to recall - at a snap - what exactly she's referring to. I'm getting better at it, and I really believe what they say about how having kids makes you smarter. How can I not get smarter when my memory is getting randomly tested all the time?

The other day, I looked closely at Beth, and in one of those precious moments of clarity, I suddenly realized - truly realized - how much she's grown, and how far we've come.

The revelation made me slightly teary.

"Are you really mine?" I demanded playfully, yet with some wonder. "Did you really come out of Mummy?"

(And the unspoken: "Has it really been 5 years?")

"Of course I did!" giggled Beth.

We threw our arms around each other and I kissed her cheek, revelling in that warm, spontaneous affection that (little) children and parents enjoy when the world is right.