N.B. As always, I’ve changed the name of my son’s preschool for obvious reasons.
Is it odd (be truthful, Reader!) that I find myself frequently lost in a daydream about my son’s preschool? That I visit and revisit in my mind’s eye each landscape, every private nook dedicated to reverie, and one by one the spaces, colorful and orderly, where shared stories morph into dramatic play?
I think I need a support group for parents obsessed with all things Room to Bloom. I near went into withdrawal last week when my son was out sick for two days. I say this in jest (slightly), but I am sincere in my devotion, my curiosity, my awe. I realize how much work, both physical and cerebral, must go into every aspect of the learning environment created there, especially as I educate myself more on various philosophies of early education; however, the director, the teachers, and the staff sustain a microcosm of the world, minus the distractions and feedback of modern society, within the walls of their schoolhouse. It is miraculous, really, that children can still get right down to the work of being kids, of reaching out to their environment, turning it around in their little hands, evaluating it from various angles, and reporting back to their friends (my son calls them his “fratelli e sorelle” – brothers and sisters), so that the learning loop continues without end.