We got a paper in the mail a few days back, and it means the end of Daddyland.
Baby B got a spot in his sister’s preschool starting in the fall.
Now this was always the plan. It is no surprise. But I do not like this paper. I did not like signing it, and I did not like going with Baby B to buy a stamp for the envelope to send this paper back to the city.
This is the hard edge of Sweden – little choice on when to go back to work.
Sometimes I see that the boy will do just fine. Sometimes it seems impossible.
Yesterday a teacher at NK’s preschool said hi to Baby B. He cried. She said with a laugh, “Time to get to preschool, B!”
I wanted to scream at her.