You. Rock.

I've never once considered how fortunate Max is to have me and Dave. I tend to think about how lucky he is that the stroke didn't impair him more; that he is a happy, bright, good-natured kid; that he's doing well for himself; that he's got a killer smile. Then I went to a recent exhibit in honor of National Adoption Month, and realized how lucky Max is to have us.

The exhibit was put together by the Heart Gallery NYC, a non-profit organization that recruits big-deal photographers to take portraits of foster children waiting for adoption. The 100 pictures on display were striking—some kids smiled broadly into the camera, some stared soulfully, all were beautiful. A lot of them were milling around the event, along with prospective families.


I got to talking with Jean, who told me he wanted to be a basketball player. He said I could be one, too, even though I'm 5'2"—loved his optimism.

There was a lot of hope in the air that night. I hope the exhibit did some good; all those kids need families. You can see their portraits at the Heart Gallery site; the group has more than 100 chapters throughout the U.S. and Canada, and has helped thousands of children find adoptive homes (Rosie O'Donnell is a big supporter).

The event was an eye-opener, in many ways. As parents of kids with special needs, we often feel guilt that we're not doing more for them. But I'll tell you, we shouldn't be taking ourselves for granted. I'm not talking about how much we adore our kids; heck, we'd love them whether or not they had disabilities. I'm talking about the fact that our children are lucky to have us, period.

Think about it.

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