And that’s that.

Today was the last day of “regular” pre-school.  Seven kids are going up the hill: D, M,B, ML,J,H,E. Two are going home: M, R. Eight remain. There will be 2 girls from the kindergarten class joining them, along with one boy coming in from a different pre-school.  Eleven kids, four teachers: sweet!

Even though pre-school doesn’t officially end until August, I guess they decided to do end of the year stuff now due to the large number moving elsewhere. They put together spiral notebooks of artwork–a picture from each month, and little photo albums for each kid.

The photo album blew me away.  Here’s a record of Selam’s year, of her friends and classmates, of special days and every days–and I missed it all. It’s the record of the world she experiences without me.  It’s so weird to think of a four year old having a private life, but she really does, and it was wonderful to peek into it.

But the big fat, ugly mama cry? That was reserved for the pictures taken on the first day of school. She was so tiny, so, teeny, teeny tiny. Where did the time go?

We stopped in the hallway and looked at the pictures together right away, Selam’s long legs draped across my lap.

“How was your picnic?”


“Did you say goodbye to your friends that are going to different places?”


“Selam! Why not?”

“They staying in America. We’ll play again tomorrow.”

Okay, then.



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