Here’s a candid look at how I found a preschool for my oldest child. I didn’t dive deep into educational philosophies, nor did I pen his name on endless waiting lists. I didn’t even consider pricier options that stretched our budget.
The need to select a preschool coincided with our move from the U.S. to Mexico due to work commitments. I asked around and discovered a school within walking distance of our new residence. After a quick visit, my husband and I decided to enroll our son.
The fact that this preschool conducted most of its lessons in Spanish—a language my son didn’t understand—didn’t deter us. Nor did the realization that its academic approach was rather modest, with kids learning just one new letter each month. The school had openings, fit our budget, and felt safe with friendly teachers. At that moment, my husband and I had too many other responsibilities to explore alternative options.
Before becoming a parent, I might have fretted over this choice. I envisioned myself as the kind of parent who prioritized my children’s education above all else. I imagined late nights spent poring over potty training guides or juggling long commutes to the one preschool in town that boasted the perfect educational approach.
I thought I’d be like those parents with solid incomes but no money left for occasional date nights, all because they were investing in high-end preschools that required them to volunteer during school hours. (As it turned out, vacations were off the table too.)
However, my expectations shifted dramatically when I found myself with a clingy baby and a toddler who demanded 17 bedtime stories. At some point—probably around story number 16—I realized I needed to ease the pressure I put on myself. Perhaps it was okay to watch a movie instead of reading 17 books. Maybe it was fine if my kids didn’t consume only organic, homemade meals. And maybe they didn’t require an elite preschool either. My well-being counted too.
When the time came, my husband and I opted for the preschool that simplified our lives, even if it meant our son faced a few challenges. We needed this neighborhood school, and to our surprise, our son needed it just as much.
Initially, he struggled. He came home upset, feeling isolated because the other kids didn’t understand him, and he couldn’t grasp what his teachers were saying either. Transitioning to an English-speaking preschool would have likely been easier—but over time, he began picking up Spanish. A few months in, he enthusiastically recounted a funny incident involving Juan Pedro on the playground. Shortly after, invitations to birthday parties from classmates like Sebastian and Paola Fernanda started coming home.
Soon enough, he was receiving mostly red stars on his progress reports, with a few smiley faces for using the subjunctive tense incorrectly or failing to finish his homework of tracing that month’s letter an embarrassing number of times (which was really more on my husband and me). By the year’s end, my son couldn’t wait to get to school and often asked to stay longer.
Halfway through his second year, he proudly announced, “My teacher gave me a special job!” “That’s fantastic! What is it?” I asked. “There’s a new girl in my class from Australia who only speaks English, so I help her understand.”
In that moment, I realized how far he had come. Eventually, I met the mother of that new classmate and discovered she was actually from Nigeria—not Australia. Clearly, my son’s geography lessons needed some work. He also didn’t finish preschool reading or doing math at the level I once imagined. But I had no complaints.
This preschool, despite its imperfections, taught my son resilience. It pushed him to find common ground with classmates who initially felt too different. He learned to adapt, navigate a sometimes daunting environment, and assert himself. Ultimately, he understood that with effort and kindness, he could thrive anywhere.
While I didn’t plan it this way, I came to realize that these skills were what I truly wanted for him. The world he would encounter wouldn’t always be welcoming; it often demands that we step out of our comfort zones, embrace challenges, and grow from them.
In retrospect, this seemingly imperfect preschool turned out to be just right for him. Even if I did need to get him a globe.
For more insights on family and educational choices, check out this resource on pregnancy and home insemination. Additionally, if you’re exploring options like egg donation, this article is a great read. And for tips on self-care and parenting, this blog is invaluable.
Summary
Choosing a local, “convenient” preschool for my son turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Initially worried about language barriers and a lack of rigorous academics, I learned that the experiences he gained—resilience, adaptability, and social skills—were far more critical than I initially believed. This imperfect preschool provided a perfect foundation for his growth, teaching him to navigate life’s challenges.