Today was my first "sharing day" at my daughter's preschool. Integrated into the lives of 4 year olds, standing on the edge, watching, warned not to get involved.
It's weird participating in someone else's way of schooling my child, or any child for that matter. Her teacher has a very distinct and personal way of teaching. "I like to tell parents not to get involved...in imaginative play, in conflict, with them."
So I stood back and watched, the best I could, wanting to jump in over and over, holding myself back, biting my tongue and my lip.
My child has no problem making friends, or leading the pack, and getting involved. She is that type. But what about Maria, or Kaylin...what about those little girls who stand on the edge, life whirling around them, unable to find the courage or confidence to jump in.
I wanted to hold their hand, to hug them and tell them that they were doing good. That everything would be OK and life really wasn't that bg and scary. The looks on their faces, the little teeny tiny looks of fear...it brought back such vivid memory of little me, nobody jumping in.
It was weird.
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