A year ago, I cried when we said goodbye to Sophie's montessori school in Sweden. I cried when she hugged her bestie classmate Mathis (yes, where we got the name) goodbye. And I cried after visiting preschool after preschool in Portland that just didn't seem to measure up to what we had abroad.
Now I cry because I am so thankful for finding the little school she's been attending since January.
I picked it despite its small size and location on a busy road because I sensed that she would be loved there. Thank you, gut, because she truly is. I can also see that she is truly growing. It's humbling actually. Because I know they are doing a much better job than I ever could to prepare her for kindergarten. (Swedish friends: academic pressure starts early here.) The best indicators that I found a gem: Sophie is always happy to go; she's all smiles when I pick her up; and she hugs her teacher and classmates goodbye when she leaves.
And I get another masterpiece to put on the fridge. M is for mustache. And mirth.
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