My son Max is now six years old. Six trips around the sun. Six birthdays. Six years of amazement, silliness, and sweetness.
The only brother, surrounded on all sides by sisters, Max is shy, quiet, and curious about the world around him. I hope you’ll allow this mother to gush as bit, because I have a few things I want to share about my Max.
Max is our miracle boy, the pregnancy we spent three difficult years hoping for, the news that we were having a son coming not many weeks before my father-in-law, John, passed away from lung cancer in 2005.