It is March, spring time, people in northern hemisphere and close to them are opening up from their closed and jittery fists, black wardrobe and tight work schedules. They are loosely submerging into warmth, colours and relaxed summer breaks. Oh I loved those days of European spring and then summer.
Okay that is past now (may become a future again), I am in India and we are getting heated up, monsoon and mangoes are still to come and winter vegetables have started saying good bye (well not really we also are now in supermarket age you know). But the heat is getting elevated each day. Few hours of morning dewdrops and cold breeze are vanishing fast. In the western India where we live people are complaining about dry heat, burning eyes and irritable whether. People who are living east are complaining about humidity and heat too.
Along with the change in weather cycle something else is moving on too. J has finished her class 3. She got her continuous assessment report. Teachers were happy with her and she with them. Class teacher remarked that in the final term she was extremely proactive, asking questions and participating in class activities in comparison to the last ones where she needed persuasion. This is the same remark, I heard from her day care teacher in the end of her first year with them. So this time, I told the teacher, yes I know, J takes time to feel comfortable and judge the water. The teacher smiled.
So with this we embarked into school closing for spring vacation. I have gotten over the guilt feeling of J having holidays and we don't. Now, I just plan some special days, by planning a trip, by baking with her, by buying some books and art and craft stuff for her. J also doesn't feel gloomy for the need of going to day care in holidays. She has made a good friend group over there and she has started finding fun with them.
Of several things she is busy doing these holidays, one is making a mud house and a pond in the back yard of her friend's house. You will get horrified when they finish their play and come home with hands full of wet mud till elbow and her dress batiked in brown. I do shout at times, but I remember my share of making chilli powder from brick pieces too. I used to get red hands, hairs and my skirt full of red brick powder! My mother used shout at me too, but with a very special smile of indulgence!
Okay that is past now (may become a future again), I am in India and we are getting heated up, monsoon and mangoes are still to come and winter vegetables have started saying good bye (well not really we also are now in supermarket age you know). But the heat is getting elevated each day. Few hours of morning dewdrops and cold breeze are vanishing fast. In the western India where we live people are complaining about dry heat, burning eyes and irritable whether. People who are living east are complaining about humidity and heat too.
Along with the change in weather cycle something else is moving on too. J has finished her class 3. She got her continuous assessment report. Teachers were happy with her and she with them. Class teacher remarked that in the final term she was extremely proactive, asking questions and participating in class activities in comparison to the last ones where she needed persuasion. This is the same remark, I heard from her day care teacher in the end of her first year with them. So this time, I told the teacher, yes I know, J takes time to feel comfortable and judge the water. The teacher smiled.
So with this we embarked into school closing for spring vacation. I have gotten over the guilt feeling of J having holidays and we don't. Now, I just plan some special days, by planning a trip, by baking with her, by buying some books and art and craft stuff for her. J also doesn't feel gloomy for the need of going to day care in holidays. She has made a good friend group over there and she has started finding fun with them.
Of several things she is busy doing these holidays, one is making a mud house and a pond in the back yard of her friend's house. You will get horrified when they finish their play and come home with hands full of wet mud till elbow and her dress batiked in brown. I do shout at times, but I remember my share of making chilli powder from brick pieces too. I used to get red hands, hairs and my skirt full of red brick powder! My mother used shout at me too, but with a very special smile of indulgence!
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