at the ptm this morning, teacher said you don't write, you speak only when you want to and get into fights, recite poems sometimes with everybody, apply the jam on your puris on your uniform...
but, yesterday you coloured the Indian flag so well (she kept her hand on her heart) that she had to give you a 'well done' card. the tiny flame of pride about to be doused, bursts to light. yes, my son, you become a huge artist, temperamental and intense. don't follow the rules. be yourself. make your rules.
PS
i love you. it hurts.
4 comments:
Oh, I had a big smile on my face as I finished reading this. And my heart was beating faster too. Having a supportive parent who lets you find your dream is half the battle.
i know. sometimes, i don't know how.
I knew a 4yo here who would run out of the class at writing time - he finally started at 5 and I was scared - because I would need admissions to first grade. Gliding across classes were his biggest passion then.
Many holed socks and torn-at-the-knee pants later, Josh is nearly 14 now, managing alright.
So, keep calm & carry on. He is his own person and will come around when he is ready. But worrying over these things sometimes is our comfort ;)
that really gives me hope.
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