Language, it seems, wasn't the issue

Not entirely, anyway.

Last week I spoke with representatives from several of the international primary schools in Prague and visited two sites. Both were lovely in their own way. One did not have room in either the kindergarten or second grade (she could have told me that before I made the trip out there, but whatever). Naturally we went with the one that had room for our boys: Riverside School.

Riverside is considerably smaller than the first school I visited and not nearly as flashy. But the warmth of the staff toward me during the interview and the feeling of community throughout the halls comforted me and reminded me somewhat of Center Street, the elementary school where Ben and Garrett will return next year. The atmosphere in the classrooms was even better. From what I saw the children were engaged and having fun. They were polite to each other and to anyone they encountered. A week ago today I left that meeting, shed the burden of anxiety that had been building, and went to pick the boys up from their last day at Tusarova.

Over a snack of ice cream, I mentioned that I'd looked at some schools.

Ben's head snapped up, his body daring to hope.

"English schools?"

I nodded.

"Are we going to go?"

"What would you think of that?" I asked, looking at Garrett.

"Yeah. Yes! YES!" Both of them pumped fists in the air.

Certainly the initial reaction was positive, but we knew it would be tricky with Garrett. By Saturday afternoon, he looked at me with tears teetering on his lower lids and insisted he didn't want to go to a new school, didn't want to leave the friends he'd made.

Ben, on the other hand, started speaking Czech.

The boy who curled in a ball at school for the last two and half months suddenly read headlines to us from Karl's newspaper, asked how to say certain things, and crafted phrases about comic book characters.

Which is a little bittersweet. It's clear he was not happy at Tusarova, but he was absorbing something. More than he knew, or wanted to admit to himself. As parenthropologist mentioned in her comment on the last post, "it easily could have gone the other way, with Ben taking to the Czech school."

True, that. It's a shame he didn't have a better situation. One with a friend.

Anyhoo. Since it didn't seem right to make Garrett test-drive a new kindergarten class on his birthday, especially if he were wholly against the idea, we put off the boys' school visit for a day. Tuesday morning saw us off to Riverside, Ben with a spring in his step and Garrett with daggers in his eyes. He left no doubt as to his feelings.

"I'm NOT spending even ONE DAY at Riverside! I want to go to Tusarova!"

Sigh.

The final update about this transition to come.

Oh, and 3? It's a magic number. Yes it is.