Tonight, I got home from work and decided to flip through the kids' baby albums with them at bedtime. They are getting big, fast, and I felt like reminiscing about their babyhoods. The three of us cuddled on Sabrina's bed, and first we looked at her baby album.
"I was soooo cute!" she said, at least ten times.
Oh, yes, she was.
Then we looked at the two baby albums I have for Max. "How come I don't have two albums?" Sabrina asked, as I knew she would. I couldn't exactly say that after I had her life got too busy and I didn't make her a second baby album. So I said I stored all of her photos online, which is the truth. I am good at coming up with truths that don't exactly address her questions and one of these days, she is going to call me on it. For now, safe.
Max's album had his newborn pictures, including one of Dave and me holding him in the hospital. There were also lots of photos of friends holding Max. So many stopped by in the month after he was born to hang with us and cheer us up after the hell we'd been through. I wasn't sad to see any of these pictures; they were Max's history. And Baby Max was just delicious. And, yes, he did have a bit of an orange tint. And, no, it wasn't self-tanner. Max couldn't get enough of sweet potatoes.
Sabrina had a ton of questions. "When Max was born, where was I? Is that kid in the picture older than me? Why is Max older than me? Oooh, Max, don't you think you were cute like me?"
We had a really memorable evening.
After they were asleep, I hung out in the kitchen. Dave's been away on a boys' trip for a few days (I owe him for those blog conferences I've gone to), and so I had a girly dinner, string cheese and yogurt, the kind I used to eat when I was single. Then I sat down to check email.
The subject line read Love That Max.
The message was this:
Hi, Ellen. I don't know if you remember me, but I used to be a teacher's aide for Max. I do know this comes as a complete throwback, but from time to time I wonder how he's doing as he was one of my "favorites" (though I'm probably not supposed to admit that!:) ) I recently caught up with a partner aide during the Max era, and we found ourselves talking about how much we loved Max's smile. I couldn't help but look you up in this tech-savvy world to find that you have a blog dedicated to Max and your family! It was wonderful to see a recent picture of him—that smile just makes me melt.
Anyway, I felt that I couldn't hold back and had to email you to let you know that Max is truly an amazing child (but you know that already!). He left such an imprint in my heart and I'm obviously not the only one.
I cried. Sat at the kitchen table for a good five minutes bawling my eyes out. It was so nice to hear from this woman; I felt a rush of gratitude for her and all of the other teachers and therapists who have been there for Max.
But for the life of me, I didn't understand why her email made me weep.
We had a really memorable evening.
After they were asleep, I hung out in the kitchen. Dave's been away on a boys' trip for a few days (I owe him for those blog conferences I've gone to), and so I had a girly dinner, string cheese and yogurt, the kind I used to eat when I was single. Then I sat down to check email.
The subject line read Love That Max.
The message was this:
Hi, Ellen. I don't know if you remember me, but I used to be a teacher's aide for Max. I do know this comes as a complete throwback, but from time to time I wonder how he's doing as he was one of my "favorites" (though I'm probably not supposed to admit that!:) ) I recently caught up with a partner aide during the Max era, and we found ourselves talking about how much we loved Max's smile. I couldn't help but look you up in this tech-savvy world to find that you have a blog dedicated to Max and your family! It was wonderful to see a recent picture of him—that smile just makes me melt.
Anyway, I felt that I couldn't hold back and had to email you to let you know that Max is truly an amazing child (but you know that already!). He left such an imprint in my heart and I'm obviously not the only one.
I cried. Sat at the kitchen table for a good five minutes bawling my eyes out. It was so nice to hear from this woman; I felt a rush of gratitude for her and all of the other teachers and therapists who have been there for Max.
But for the life of me, I didn't understand why her email made me weep.
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