Ouf ... it is for sure tireing. and the end result remains to be well .. about 2 words out of abt 12 taken in by Devi ...while the rest of the house is singing " After a bath i try try try .."
When Devi turned 2 i was a proud mother to be sending her to school and therefore listening to her rhyme Twinkle Twinkle .. i was so proud for various reasons... 1. that my daughter was doing something that i could have never done when i was 2 years. 2. i had choosen the right school 3. that now even i could start rhyming with her and feel good about it. This was when she was at Mothers Care at Kolkata.
Then came Meridian at Hyderabad... everyday she came back home to tell me of the new things that she has learnt in school. My trust in the school grew even more .. and i gave my self a huge pat on my back for being this good parent. She also has this huge affinity towards Time Life books ... so everything was going perfect.
Then a few days ago we were told that there was going to an elocution competition. And then there was yesterday from when i began this war that says "teaching your child" . As it turned out that it was not just war with Devi , as she absolutely refused to listen to me ..forget the reciting part of it. But i was also at war with my mother ..my father .. and Devi s father. Each had their perfect point of view which in degrees communicated the ill orinented mother that i am.
Ma quickly got out all my childhood memories where i was an adamant student.. baba added his dispair how he could not make me a good "mathematician" ..and therefore not an engineer.. Manish was giving me discourse about him being the better parent ... And Devi mean while was busy with what she does best. Lobing with the most comfortable and welcoming lap..Didus.
This looks like a battle ..with various wars ..or is it wars with many battles .. with so many case studies.. so many motivational technique and varied communication hues .. it sure is no childs play.
..After a bath i try try try .. to Wipe myself dry dry dry ... oh yes ..did i add that somewhere interim i also SMSed to Rayesa Madam ( Devis teacher) about me giving up this war.. and Manish called up his friend ( mother of 2 kids .. who seemed to be learning more than what Devi is .. grass (or should i saw children are always far more easier to handle when its someone elses and in someone elses home) on the other side is always greener ) ..
Brimming with some knowledge .. some injury ..some frustration .. and a completely unwilling Devi .. we will continue our 'try try try ..dry dry dry journey once again ...
UPDATE: hi! im devi. if mama ever reads this, i want to tell her that this is ( or was) written by devi herself when she was 13. How life proves that irony is ironic!! just yestrday i was struggling in this very similar "war" with no one else but my own sister. and yes, the frustration totally caught up to my limit of temper and i gave up, crying. But something between the fact that Deetya now knows the poem, and that i myself WRITE my poems, im quite proud! proud of not my excellent teahing skills(actually, i am...) but also about my awesome mother who was able to teach me to become like this. It was all because of her that now every maam in my school (AND Deetyas!!) has such high expectations from me. I love you ma.. for everything!
Oh.. and how can i forget. I STILL dont know the poem as mentioned above... and thus irony is quite ironic!
When Devi turned 2 i was a proud mother to be sending her to school and therefore listening to her rhyme Twinkle Twinkle .. i was so proud for various reasons... 1. that my daughter was doing something that i could have never done when i was 2 years. 2. i had choosen the right school 3. that now even i could start rhyming with her and feel good about it. This was when she was at Mothers Care at Kolkata.
Then came Meridian at Hyderabad... everyday she came back home to tell me of the new things that she has learnt in school. My trust in the school grew even more .. and i gave my self a huge pat on my back for being this good parent. She also has this huge affinity towards Time Life books ... so everything was going perfect.
Then a few days ago we were told that there was going to an elocution competition. And then there was yesterday from when i began this war that says "teaching your child" . As it turned out that it was not just war with Devi , as she absolutely refused to listen to me ..forget the reciting part of it. But i was also at war with my mother ..my father .. and Devi s father. Each had their perfect point of view which in degrees communicated the ill orinented mother that i am.
Ma quickly got out all my childhood memories where i was an adamant student.. baba added his dispair how he could not make me a good "mathematician" ..and therefore not an engineer.. Manish was giving me discourse about him being the better parent ... And Devi mean while was busy with what she does best. Lobing with the most comfortable and welcoming lap..Didus.
This looks like a battle ..with various wars ..or is it wars with many battles .. with so many case studies.. so many motivational technique and varied communication hues .. it sure is no childs play.
..After a bath i try try try .. to Wipe myself dry dry dry ... oh yes ..did i add that somewhere interim i also SMSed to Rayesa Madam ( Devis teacher) about me giving up this war.. and Manish called up his friend ( mother of 2 kids .. who seemed to be learning more than what Devi is .. grass (or should i saw children are always far more easier to handle when its someone elses and in someone elses home) on the other side is always greener ) ..
Brimming with some knowledge .. some injury ..some frustration .. and a completely unwilling Devi .. we will continue our 'try try try ..dry dry dry journey once again ...
UPDATE: hi! im devi. if mama ever reads this, i want to tell her that this is ( or was) written by devi herself when she was 13. How life proves that irony is ironic!! just yestrday i was struggling in this very similar "war" with no one else but my own sister. and yes, the frustration totally caught up to my limit of temper and i gave up, crying. But something between the fact that Deetya now knows the poem, and that i myself WRITE my poems, im quite proud! proud of not my excellent teahing skills(actually, i am...) but also about my awesome mother who was able to teach me to become like this. It was all because of her that now every maam in my school (AND Deetyas!!) has such high expectations from me. I love you ma.. for everything!
Oh.. and how can i forget. I STILL dont know the poem as mentioned above... and thus irony is quite ironic!
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