Today, I had the opportunity to spend some time at two different school events. The first was the 2nd Annual tea at my son, Max's school. The second was the carnival at Sarah and my school. I'll tell you about the carnival tomorrow - not enough room for pictures of both.
This is the gym at Max's school - the location of the tea party. Everyone wore hats. Well, everyone but Mom and me. Next year, we'll wear them. Mom is in the middle of this photo, next to Max's teacher, Jill. She's a great teacher. She's the one who got the kids into the Special Olympics. The tent, that's where the tea was stationed. The placemats, they are the artwork of the children. We got to take one home.
This is Mom and Max. The picture is not clear, because I had to crop it from a wider shot. Can you tell how much they love each other?
This is teacher Jill and Max. He's still trying to see Grandma. :D
Here's some of the goodies. We had brownies, cookies, little pigs in blankets, pinwheel sandwiches, tea, and coffee. There was a beautiful fruit salad. All the ladies from Max's class they really enjoyed putting on the event, it was obvious. We chatted with one of the aids (I forget her name, very embarrassing) and she told me that she liked to see what Max is dressed in each day and that she felt an affinity with my family because our kids are around the same age. She was a nice lady, she mentioned angels and God. I've noticed over the years that people who are spiritual are very interested in Max. I don't have a problem with it, it's just something that I've taken note of. I'm not sure of Max's opinions on religion. I think if anything he worships trees. That kid loves trees.
I enjoy visiting Max's school, but it's also a reminder of how delicate he is. He's now one of the oldest kids in that school. He's been going there since he was 2. So much has changed since then.
It's hard to explain what raising Max is like. It's honestly a privilege, but it's also a challenge. I worry about him every day and not in the same way that I worry about the girls. I worry about his breathing and his eating and his slowly twisting body. He turns 18 in a few weeks. Okay, I'm not sure where I'm going with this, but I'm getting too emotional to explain anymore right now. Thinking about my son's mortality every single day, it's not easy.
Thanks for reading and I wish you a good day.
Oh, and here's a shot of some candy.