Urban Bambini makes me want to enroll my 34-year-old-self in preschool. I would walk there every morning and spend three and a half-hours in the classroom, arranging flowers, buffing leather boots or talking about what my mom packed me for snack. I would be the tallest one in the class, but I would sit in a small chair anyway. For the past five years, I have lived vicariously through my children and their days at this Montessori pre-school: Indy went there of four years and graduated this past spring, and now Sawyer is a bambini, too. Every September, I have the privilege of taking school photos for UB and on picture day, I spend time in the classroom and watch as the kids: buff leather boots, slice bananas, grind coffee, sweep up bits of colored paper, string beads, polish small brass sailboats, play checkers, build with blocks, ring bells, bake muffins, read stories, sort buttons, stamp, sew, clean, and sing. Sometimes when I wander through the space, and all the kids are focused on napkin-folding or sewing little pillows, I imagine myself as a four-year-old, sitting on a small bench, stacking a tower of blocks to the sky.

*for more information about Urban Bambini, please contact amanda at urbanbambini@live.com