Mamma gone crazy!!

Raising a teenager is never easy, but raising a superactive, multi-talented teenage daughter? That’s a whole different roller coaster ride.

My daughter is a whirlwind of energy, grace, ambition, and unpredictability. She dances like a dream, a beautiful Odissi performer who has graced prestigious stages, thanks to her Guru’s tireless training and unshakeable belief in her. 💃

She sings Western music with such confidence that she just bagged a gold medal in an interschool solo singing competition. 🎤 She’s in the school music team, wins in interhouse events, recently got a gold in basketball 🏀, and oh! Did I mention she's also a purple belt in Karate? 🥋

She paints (when she feels like it), with a style that even her teachers rave about. Her handwriting is the kind that teachers want to photocopy and pin to their walls.

And then there’s her love for English. 📚✍️
She reads endlessly, books, articles, true crime stories, and writes beautifully too. Her vocabulary, expressions, and articulation often leave me stunned. There’s a budding storyteller, a sharp communicator, or perhaps a powerful journalist in the making.

And her dreams? Let’s just say she dreams BIG; from flying fighter jets for the Indian Air Force to becoming an architect, or a fearless journalist unearthing hidden truths, inspired by The Sabarmati Report and the Godhra train incident. 🛫🏛️📰

But... ask her to open her textbooks, and everything crashes.

😵‍💫 The Homework Tantrums & the Eye-Rolling Olympics

The moment I say, “Time to study,” it begins! the tantrums, the sighs, the eye rolls that could win gold if sarcasm was a sport.
“Later, Ma!”
“Just five more minutes…”
“Tomorrow, promise!”
(Only tomorrow never comes.)

And there I stand, heart full of love, voice rising with frustration and wondering how to nurture her spark without burning both of us out. 💔

💖 Seeing Her for Who She Is

I see her. I really do. The way she lights up on stage, the quiet pride when she completes a drawing, the passion when she sings, and the fire in her eyes when she talks about flying a fighter jet to avenge Squadron Leader Ajjamada B. Devaiah — her inspiration from the 1965 war, a brave pilot who gave everything for his country.

She’s amazing. I don’t say that lightly.
But traditional academics? That spark fades. 📚❌

She just doesn’t feel connected to it. She says it’s boring. And yes, she perks up a little when I teach her — but let’s be honest — I’m not an academician. How much can I help?

Still, I know — dreams, even the wildest ones, need a foundation. They need focus, discipline, and yes… studies.

🧠 Turning Resistance into Relevance

So I’ve started connecting the dots for her:

✨ “Want to be a pilot? You need math and physics.”
✨ “Want to be an architect? You’ll need logic and precision.”
✨ “Want to uncover truth as a journalist? You need to read, write, and know the world.”

Sometimes it sticks. Sometimes it doesn’t.
So, I repeat the truth I want her to hear:
“You’re smart.”
“You’re capable.”
“You’re a winner.”
Even when the books stay closed.

😤 The Fights, the Frustration… and the Fierce Love

Oh yes, we fight. So. Many. Fights.
Some days, I yell.
Some days, I cry.
Some days, I storm out to the terrace, take deep breaths, and let the cold wind hit my face — hoping it will clear the fog of guilt and exhaustion. 🌬️

But I’ve learned:

• I don’t have to fight every battle.
• Giving her some control over when she studies helps more than deadlines.
• She needs me to listen, not lecture — even when I badly want to fix everything.

I’m learning to meet her where she is — not where I want her to be.

📝 My Game Plan (and Maybe Yours Too)

Here’s what I’m trying — not perfectly, but with love:

1. Structure with flexibility 📅: A routine that balances dance, music, studies, and downtime — without suffocating her.
2. Smaller goals 🎯: One worksheet before Odissi, one topic before dinner.
3. Celebrate effort, not marks 🏆: Praising the try, not just the win.
4. Role models over lectures 👩‍✈️🎤🏛️: Helping her talk to people who live the lives she dreams of.
5. Quiet connection time 🤝: Sometimes we lie in bed and talk. Sometimes we just stay silent and scroll together. And that’s okay.

💭 For Me, As Her Mother

I’m not just raising a daughter.
I’m raising someone who challenges me to grow. Every. Single. Day.

Some days I feel like I’m failing.
Some nights I whisper sorry to her sleeping face.
But then… I see her dance. Or sing. Or write something powerful. Or talk about a future she wants to build — and I remind myself:

We’re doing okay.
We’re just figuring it out — together.

🌈 My Hope for Her

I don’t want her to become someone she’s not.
I want her to become everything she already is — but with a little more focus, a little more balance, and a lot of courage.

Because she’ll fly — I know she will.
And until then, I’ll walk beside her…
Holding her hand when she reaches out.
Letting go when it’s time.
And loving her fiercely through every tantrum, every triumph, and every tiny step forward. 💗