For the first time, all three of us – Mama, Daddy and Norah – trudged up the hill in the gray, cold morning to preschool. We got Norah dressed, took her to one teacher standing on a rock in the trees, and then went inside for the big talk with Ida.
I’m new to daycare. Maybe every parent has parent-teacher conferences at American preschools. What do I know? But there seemed something momentous about sitting down on a very small chair at a very small table and discussing the life and times of Norah K.
And I actually learned a lot. Norah follows around two older girls and calls them out of the woods (her preschool has this amazing forest for a yard). She gets a little overwhelmed by all the kids sometimes. She likes to put a doll to bed (she is not big on dolls at home).
But most of it we knew, of course, from talking to the staff every day. Norah has actually started telling us stories, so we even know some things from her (push, Sixten, sad).
Still, a big day. My first parent-teacher conference. In Swedish, at that.