This past week my son had a 2nd grade Family Tree project to do for school. It was the first “big” school project we’ve had to complete as a family and it was only mildly annoying in my opinion. It was the kind of project that was important enough to take some time and thought on, and it was annoying enough to take up too much time. I’m assuming school projects will only get worse the older he gets. For this particular project he had to write about his family ancestry, which is all fine and good as long as you know your family ancestry which we kinda do and kinda do not. I couldn’t help but feel badly for kids in the 2nd grade that are foster kids or adopted kids. I suppose those families just make stuff up about their ancestry kinda like I did.
Other than making stuff up for him to write down, I also had to collect pictures representing his entire 8 years of life. I may never get used to looking back at baby pictures of each of my children but most especially of my oldest. It’s such a bittersweet feeling to look at pictures like the one above. I’m instantly jetted back to that evening in our tiny condo in Fullerton, California and I can hear his piercing screeches and I can feel the weight of his tiny newborn body in my arms as he squirmed and cried. This picture was taken after his very first bath where the novelty of parenthood was palatable as my husband snapped this picture of our newborn screaming pink baby.
