Most times, that's one of the first questions my three-year-old asks even as she's opening her eyes. Tell her 'yes', and she'll snuggle back into her pillow for some more shut-eye (or a rendering of what she considers 'deep sleep'... and I'm supposed to be taken in by the act!). Answering 'no' inevitably elicits the difficult-to-turn-down request: "Mumma, come to bed..." I wish!
To think all this melodrama from someone who basically likes doing her yogasanas and practising her Shut Up & Bounce routine at playschool. Sometimes, I want to tell her, "Baby, this is not even school... Just some version of fun, where you sing, dance, swim and drive toy cars." Some days, she wants to hop on to the 'big yellow bus' and buzz off to school with the big kids... That kind of school is okay, she seems to think. She's always trying to get hold of a neighbourhood seven-year-old's schoolbag... just for the sheer fun (?!) of toting it around on her back.
"Mamma, read me this story," she yells, while I try to get a morsel of mashed idli and chutney into her never-still mouth. And then: "I want to read it myself." Are those the words all moms want to hear? I don't know.... Oh, I am sure I want her to read and write and be an achiever and all that... (I also get my kicks out of making her say 'Czechoslovakia', like in the ad) but I also want her to be happy. And happiness seems a more distant dream every day. the more you know, the more you want; your needs are more specialised and ever-evolving...
Will I be able to nurture her spiritual self even as I queue up this year with the hefty admission fees for a seat in the kindergarten at the city's most elite (and with a seemingly refreshing, liberal approach to the curriculum) school? I don't know. Will she lose herself so in her textbooks that she won't have the time to enjoy the Famous Fives and the Harry Potters that I did? I hope not.
In the interim, I now have to find an answer to her most pertinent question these days: "If Cheryl's [her best friend] mom doesn't go to office, why do you?" Some day soon I'll probably have to go into the intricacies of choosing to work because it's your passion. Right now, I have to deal with a whimsical little onw who insists she will not take an afternoon nap 'cos the moment she closes her eyes, "Mumma will go away to office". Aww, baby...
Wednesday 25 February 2009
Do I have school today?
Wednesday 25 February 2009
Do I have school today?
Most times, that's one of the first questions my three-year-old asks even as she's opening her eyes. Tell her 'yes', and she'll snuggle back into her pillow for some more shut-eye (or a rendering of what she considers 'deep sleep'... and I'm supposed to be taken in by the act!). Answering 'no' inevitably elicits the difficult-to-turn-down request: "Mumma, come to bed..." I wish!
To think all this melodrama from someone who basically likes doing her yogasanas and practising her Shut Up & Bounce routine at playschool. Sometimes, I want to tell her, "Baby, this is not even school... Just some version of fun, where you sing, dance, swim and drive toy cars." Some days, she wants to hop on to the 'big yellow bus' and buzz off to school with the big kids... That kind of school is okay, she seems to think. She's always trying to get hold of a neighbourhood seven-year-old's schoolbag... just for the sheer fun (?!) of toting it around on her back.
"Mamma, read me this story," she yells, while I try to get a morsel of mashed idli and chutney into her never-still mouth. And then: "I want to read it myself." Are those the words all moms want to hear? I don't know.... Oh, I am sure I want her to read and write and be an achiever and all that... (I also get my kicks out of making her say 'Czechoslovakia', like in the ad) but I also want her to be happy. And happiness seems a more distant dream every day. the more you know, the more you want; your needs are more specialised and ever-evolving...
Will I be able to nurture her spiritual self even as I queue up this year with the hefty admission fees for a seat in the kindergarten at the city's most elite (and with a seemingly refreshing, liberal approach to the curriculum) school? I don't know. Will she lose herself so in her textbooks that she won't have the time to enjoy the Famous Fives and the Harry Potters that I did? I hope not.
In the interim, I now have to find an answer to her most pertinent question these days: "If Cheryl's [her best friend] mom doesn't go to office, why do you?" Some day soon I'll probably have to go into the intricacies of choosing to work because it's your passion. Right now, I have to deal with a whimsical little onw who insists she will not take an afternoon nap 'cos the moment she closes her eyes, "Mumma will go away to office". Aww, baby...
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