I wanted to go to work yesterday and not feel anxiety. Not feel stressed. Not feel like I just want to run away and never look back. But that wasn't how it began.
As soon as I got there, Akshar was at the door. And he was being so cute. He does this thing when he answers the door where he tries to open it and run away and hide before I see him. But the door is quite huge and made of this magnificent wood, which is very heavy, so he doesn't get more than 2 steps away before I see him. So I think, "This is going to be a good day, he's happy".
Well, as soon as I sit him down and ask him to start reading, things go south. He's goofing off, purposely falling off the couch, and taking 35 minutes to read 1.5 chapters, which are only about...5-6 pages long. And boy, if this doesn't annoy me, I don't know what does. But I can't just scream at him, and I can't hit him, so it takes everything in me to talk to him rationally. And he just gets mad because he doesn't want to read, so we struggle through the rest of it.
How can I blame him? He's 6 years old and reading chapter books that are way too advanced for him, but you can't tell his mom that. He has to read all the same books his brothers read at that age. The Indian culture has to be perfect academically, and they have to be financially secure. Beyond secure. Those are the two requirements, so here I am.
But after we finish all the rest of the work, which takes another 45 minutes, we sit down and have a heart-to-heart. Me and a 6-year old. These are the people I have heart-to-heart talks with. I can't say I don't get a lot out of them, though. I love them.
And then it hits me. I don't do this job just for the incredible pay. And I don't do it to try and help these kids become genius students. I do it because they are starving for positive attention. They are yearning, crying, screaming out for someone to love them unconditionally, whether they get a 100% on a test or a 50%. And that's truly what I believe God allows me to provide for them. So once again, I stay. And I promise myself to finish out this school year with them.
And later, Avi and I work on this huge game board project. And we just talk and laugh and bond. He and I are very close. I've worked with him since we was 7, and he's now 11. He looks up to me, I can tell, but more than that, I think he values me. And I truly value him. He is intelligent beyond measure. But what I love about him the most is that he doesn't understand me when I tell him I'm going to be proud of him no matter what grades he gets. I tell him if he tries his best, truly, then I'm proud of him. And that's...foreign to him. And that not only breaks my heart, but it makes me love him more, and it makes me not ever want to leave him.
So, here I am. Still sticking around with those boys. And God blessed me with this family. Even when it seems cursed, even when I want to punch Shenoo in the face, smack her across the face and tell her she's being a terrible mother, SOMEHOW get her to understand that she just needs to LOVE her children for exactly who they are, I am blessed, because I get to change lives. In exactly the way God has intended me to change them.
Encouraged. Uplifted. Inspired.
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