The day before the last day of school Max's teacher sent home a note about a graduation for Max and all the other sixth graders. At the graduation I witness Max walking across the stage to receive a promotion certificate. I couldn't believe that Max was the same child I rocked all night long for many years, just because he wouldn't sleep through the night. That he was the same little boy who screamed at the drop of a hat and took hours to calm down. As he walked down the stairs of the stage I didn't feel that same desire I had when he was about eight and younger to run after him and stop him from entering a busy intersections.
Yes, Max has graduated from elementary school. For him to graduate is not the same as it is for a typical child. For Max it means he has graduated from running out into a busy intersection, he has graduated from beating his head against the window and pulling my curtains off the rod. He has learned to read, write. He has found passion for math. Even though it's not at grade level he has come a long way. He has become a sweet loving boy who no longer takes his shoes off to throw them at me while I'm driving. I felt a great sense of accomplishment watching him take those steps across the stage and told myself those years of him throwing items at me while I drove have been worth it. The hours I have sat in therapy waiting rooms and all the long MET's and IEP's are paying off. He has come so far. He might not be a honor student or have the award for most likely to succeed, but he has in my eyes become a honor to have in my life and a wonderful son who has shown me that success is to love and to be loving to others. What greater reward can anyone ever wish for?
That same day Max's older brother, Malachi, graduated from high school so it was an amazing day. A day I will Cherish.
It's hard to believe Max is now moving forward in a world that isn't completely at his liking. An ideal world for Max is Wii, Avatar, and Lego's.
I look back and realize how much God helped me through the tough years of him being unmanageable. The years of rolling him up in a blanket and rocking him as he screamed directly into my ear. The years of wishing he was typical and able to be like all the other children his age. I have learned to love Max just the way he is. I wouldn't want him any other way. I love how innocent Max is. How he sees life as a little child who loves the simple things in life.
In my eyes, he is perfect and priceless.
As his mother, I do worry about how he will deal with seventh grade. How he will handle the teenager years. How will he adjust to girls, bullying, competition, and gossip. I know that a lot of that teenage drama will go right over his head, but then I see he is very intellectual and will pick up on others and how they treat him. My hope is he will have friends who truly like him and not because they want to use or hurt him.
