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18 Dec 2008: This Time It Will Be Different

A picture


I sometimes manage to think myself into Kai's shoes. I try to recall what I was like when I was young, the way I saw the world. What I expected of parents when I was young. Because that's the trick, surely? To not think of your son as another person in the house, but as a child, and think how a child thinks.

Switch "oh Kai is crying, again" for "I remember wanting attention and not getting it".

But occasionally this method acting technique travels the wrong way, spinning you around so hard that you end up with whiplash: you suddenly think of your relationship with your parents. How they see you. Their expectations of you. How you might have surprised them. How you might have disappointed them.

That's some weird shit right there.