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“Why was my little chirpy nervous?” I was astounded by her behaviour. She never doubted her abilities especially in the creative front.
On a regular weekday, while my child was busy painting her imagination on a piece of paper, I was engrossed on my phone, sipping a hot cup of coffee, on a chilly winter evening.
Scrolling through social media apps, quickly flipping from one to another (Uffff!!! There are mills of them which are so time-consuming, yet one can’t do away with them), I quickly glanced through all of them. Meanwhile deciding in my head, the dish to be prepared for dinner.
Out of all the toddler activities, Soha enjoys colouring and painting the most. If it becomes a group activity with her best friend, then even better. I have always treasured it when she presents me with her neat and thoughtfully chosen colours on her colouring book. I encourage her to continue doing this because she is immensely good at it and it also allows her to stay away from the screen.
She doesn’t need me by her side during the activity, which gives me time to wind up my other tasks. But today she was different. She was not enjoying her activity rather just scribbling to finish the work given. The moment I stood up to move towards the kitchen, she didn’t approve of the same. She wanted me to watch her painting and guide her if she doesn’t perform well.
“Why was my little chirpy nervous?” I was astounded by her behaviour. She never doubted her abilities especially in the creative front. I quickly scanned if anything has been said or done in my presence, which made her doubt herself. I could not recollect anything.
I cocooned her in my arms, trying to gather what had gone wrong. She was silent for a long time and I let her be. She comforted herself before speaking out the actual reason for the kind of reaction she was showcasing.
Soha: “Mama, a few of my classmates mock at me when I draw my paintings. Should I stop doing this??”
Consoling and empathising with her, I drew her closer. She could fathom my solicitous touch. Locked in my arms, her eyes met mine. She longed to be served with acknowledgement and validation. I lifted her colouring book and explained to her. Her observation of the surrounding around her is commendable, which visibly reflects in her artwork. The shades which she chose to complete her art-piece, exuded her talent and love for the activity. I made her understand that to draw so neatly with thoughtfully chosen colours at this age is not a small feat. And I am so proud of her. I would love to see her paint more and more.
These statements of mine filled her with confidence, made her sparkle. “Sachi Mama!!!! You like my paintings….”.She beamed with confidence.
She trusted and believed in herself. Self-doubt emancipated.
Image via Pixabay
An avid Reader,a wanderlust junkie,an ardent foodie and a rare breed of soul with a Versatile Persona,earnestly believing and Practicing one funda of life "live and let live". read more...
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I wanted to scream with excitement that my daughter chose to write about her ambition and aspirations over everything else first. To me, this was one of those parenting 'win' moments.
My daughter turned eight years old in January, and among the various gifts she received from friends and family was an absolutely beautiful personal journal for self-growth. A few days ago, she was exploring the pages when she found a section for writing a letter to her future self. She found this intriguing and began jotting down her thoughts animatedly.
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