Brick in the wall

It is changing, her life. My daughter, almost four, starts her schooling tomorrow. No longer can I stave off the academic demon. As I apologetically push her in the scholastic abyss, I cannot fathom her credulous enthusiasm towards the new bag, books and stationery.
While I have been graceful about the whole thing superficially, in my heart there is a raging tempest. Two decades, at least, of drudgery await her. Exams that may or may not make her smarter, the rat race that she may unwittingly participate in or teachers that may just stifle her imagination.

What about the hours that she will spend away from me daily? Now, I am her sounding board for all her fancy schemes whether it is how our dog would make a rather convincing pony or how her younger sister is really just a big doll or how only if she waters every plant in our garden will the flowers blossom. That just won’t happen anymore, at least not in the mornings. But then I chin up because I try not to be a selfish parent.

The longer I dwell on this, the trade off doesn’t seem all that awful. I get my mornings to organise my life so I can whole-heartedly jump into her plans for world domination once she is back from her alternate world. As a stay-at-home mum of two toddlers, the only time I get for myself is when I go for a bath. I knew that when I decided to have kids, but some days I wish to enjoy mere 10 minutes of silence without having to worry about food, diapers or swallowed toys. Who knows I might get that break now?

Undoubtedly, it will improve my equation with her. With a husband defending the borders of the motherland, it is just me handling two little kids day after day, month after month.  Needless to say, I lose it once in a while and the little time off will be as therapeutic for my sanity as for hers.

While she is at home, I can monitor her every interaction- the quality and quantity, with all those around her. In school, the ballgame changes. She neither gets personalised attention nor gratification of her wishes entirely which is going to be great. We all need to be let off from the crosshairs every now and then.

So as I drop her off in her class, I wave my goodbye with a heavy hand but a light heart. She may learn how to conform and toe the line that the system demands of us but with a mother who pledges to nurture her individuality and encourage her flights of fancy, she has a wingman like no other. She is going to be good. She is going to school on her own terms.