School Photo Day

I walked James in to school this morning, across the ghostly-white, foggy playground, to meet his aide. All around me were other parents, hustling their kids along too. Many of the boys sported hair that was precisely cut, combed, and gelled back (or up in a mock Mohawk), as well as crisp polos or button up shirts. Yes, school Photo Day was upon us once again.

Oops.

I completely spaced Picture Day -- thank goodness they had signs up announcing it at his school this week or I'd have really been unpleasantly surprised. I've not been feeling well this week. James hates having his hair washed and he screams like a banshee and thrashes when I try to cut it; so with me feeling unwell, I left his hair alone, lest I give him a horrible hatchet job in my hazy state of mind. Yesterday we were at a doctor's appointment after school, 65 miles away. After 45 minutes of working with a physical therapist we drove 65 miles back in traffic, which means we were both a bit dragging this today. He does not do crisp shirts and he did not want buttons this morning (so no polo top).

Even better, I could not find his order slip and I had to leave directly and drop off his sister at her school and do the weekly grocery run. Could my preparation have been more pathetic? Luckily, I had my checkbook in my purse, so I could do my two errands before swinging by James' school on the way back home. The nice ladies in the office showed me where the extra Picture Order Forms were and called his classroom to make sure they were still waiting to take the photos (they were).

I walked slowly back to James' classroom (I've also tweaked my hip and knee - fun times!) and peeked in the door. There was James, sitting calmly in a semicircle reading group, in front of his teacher and reading! Why am I excited? It was just so NORMAL! His teacher warmly welcomed me into the room, thanked me graciously for his order form and check, and asked James to take a turn and read for me. He was flustered, but complied. I was so proud. Especially when a reading buddy joined in, read a wrong word, and he gently corrected her.

Beam, beam, beam.

Okay, James: I am over the lack of styled hair and dress shirts. Sometimes what you can't see in a class photo can make your day for years to come.

Love Always, Your Mom