Six years ago I had no idea what Montessori was. No, wait. I take that back. I did. I thought Montessori was all about floor beds. Laugh if you want but my brother-in-law – who’s one of those geniuses by the way – decided after extensively researching Montessori that he will not be using a crib for his toddler. Instead, he would let him sleep on a floor mattress. I usually take most everything my brother-in-law tells me at face value, but not this time because, let’s face it – a floor bed for a 1-year-old? Seriously, who does that?
But lo and behold, fast forward one year. I’m standing outside the gymnastics studio where my daughter was taking classes, lamenting to myself how three months in, she was still refusing to participate in the class unless I was in there with her (the only adult other than the teacher, mind you, doing all the pizza roll warm-ups, one-legged dog, frog jumps, you name it). When suddenly I overhear one of the parents mention how much she loves the Montessori school her daughter goes to. My ears perked up.
“Tell me more,” I said.
That mom, like many other parents who send their children to a Montessori school, really liked how they did things there but was by no means a Montessori buff. She could barely put into words why she liked their method of teaching, but she did mention one thing that my frustrated and worried self needed to hear that day: a mixed-age classroom where 3-year olds learn alongside 5 and 6-year olds, slowly gaining in confidence over time, becoming young leaders in a space that allows them to flourish at their own pace, with no pressure.
“I have no idea how it works but it works like a charm.” Her words still resonate in my ears to this day.
Pressure was the key word for me that day. I realized I was pressuring my kid into doing something she still was not ready for. I wanted her so bad to fit in, and to do what all the other kids were doing so enthusiastically. But that wasn’t her. She wasn’t there yet. And the new parent that I was had no idea how to deal with that.
The conversation outside the gymnastics studio that day was the turning point for me. It opened my eyes to the possibilities out there and planted a seed in me that has grown exponentially in the five years since. I believe in signs, and I believe that the sign I was given that day was meant to set me on the path I’m on today.
I took my daughter out of gymnastics classes after that day, looked up that Montessori school and signed her up in their primary classroom (for 3-6 year olds). I bumped into that mom a year later at our school and thanked her profusely. And as fate has it, our youngest daughters were in the same primary classroom for three years after that.