nine years so far...

Volkswagon Golf
Audi S6
BMW M3
Event planner
Commercial Real Estate broker
Searay Amberjack
Supra
700 sq. ft. condo
Newly remodeled home in St. Louis Park
Zipper
Cabo San Lucas
Playa del Carmen
Grand Cayman
Berlin
Stockholm
Maui
$30,000 wedding
Mercedes ML320
BMW M3
BMW M5
second row seats for all Timberwolves games
Ordway season tickets
Minnesota Wild season tickets
Minikahda Club
Buckle
Honeymoon-two weeks in Italy
I-plan Event Company
5th Street Ventures
First Response = +
Maui, again
It's a boy!
ECFE
Playdates
Tumbling class
Babysitter
Lake Namekagon
Miscarriage
YMCA Soccer coach
Stroller
Jogging stroller
First Response = +
Naples, FL
Pneumonia
Nebulizer
Hospital three days
It's a boy!
Double stroller
Projectile vomit
Colic
Nutramigen
Projectile vomit
Weight loss
Surgery-pyloric stenosis
Colic
Weight gain
4504 Casco Ave.
Seizure
Ambulance
ER
CAT Scan
MRI
EEG
All tests "normal"
Low muscle tone
Missed milestones
Facial twitches
Epilepsy ward
24 hour EEG
Doctor sit down
Life changing news
Numb
Pain
Tears
Disbelief
More tests
More doctors
Therapy
Volvo S60
Home visits
Support Groups
Private PT
Pneumonia
Hospital stays
O2 levels
Nebulizer
Acura MDX
More therapy
Different doctors
Pneumonia
Hospital stay
First Response = +
Surrender
It's a boy!
Minivan
Lyla
Audi S4
Another double stroller
Working the steps
First wheelchair
Date night
Feeding chair
Stander
Bath chair
Ramp
Johnny Jump up
Milestones reached
Nanny
Walking at nine months
Finding God
Constant smiles
Country Club Road
Kindergarten
New friends
ECSE
More new friends
Another new wheelchair
Chiropractor
Running
Pain
Joy
Airplane
Seattle
Road trips
McGregor
New Ulm
Fond du Lac
More running
Headaches
Preschool
2nd grade
IEP meeting
Weekend in Chicago
Happy Anniversary.




Comments

Fawn said…
Are you serious? My husband and I celebrated our 9th wedding anniversary yesterday, too. Congratulations, Sue!
October 13, 2011 at 11:12 AM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Letter to Dermot

Image
"Letter to Dermot" Dermot, I’ve been trying to put off this letter for quite some time. I just gave birth to your little brother and have realized how heartbroken I am over you. I look at pictures of you and get a tinge of sadness where I should get joy. I see the things you cannot do and the things you won’t be able to do. I’m so sad about it. I feel responsible, so much more than anyone else knows. I look back on the day you had your first seizure and I’m so angry with myself that I didn’t know what was happening. I feel like the length of time was my fault and that it caused more damage to your brain than was necessary. I’m so sorry. I know that you deserve the best in everything for your life and my regrets run deep. God has a plan for our family, I know. All of the challenges that you go through help make us stronger, but I wish more than anything that I could take all the pain away, all of the drugs, all of the therapy. I sometimes imagine you as a normal little guy get...
Read more

Fourth time

Just as I crossed the last thing off my grocery list, I heard a muffled chime from my purse. I thought to myself, I wonder if its Dermot's school. Not really believing it was, but teacher Jan was on the other end of the line. "Hi Sue, Laurie has administered the Diastat for Dermot", she said with a tinge of sadness in her voice. "Okay, I'll be right there" I said. I looked down at my full cart of much needed groceries and pushed them to the register. One part of me wanted to continue and check out as if nothing was happening, the other, wiser part said "get the hell out of here". Another abadoned cart at the grocery store. This time I call Joe, "I'll meet you there" he says. Three stoplights later and a quick jaunt on the highway and I'm there. Wiped the tears away and ask the receptionist for admittance to the special education wing of the school. I walk briskly to Dermot's classroom. The other little boys are having circle...
Read more

Profoundly

I've written many essays in my head. There's the one about being embarrassed by Dermot throwing up in the hospital cafeteria, or the one about friends and how they've changed over the years, or the story about the man I met at the hospital with the nineteen year old son with Dermot-like disabilities or my favorite, the way I use chocolate chip cookies as therapy. I sit in waiting rooms and write in my head, by the time I get home the details are lost or the energy has left me. I sit awake in bed staring at the ceiling knowing what I want to write, then I get out of bed, start up the computer and my words have left my head. I've been struck by how profoundly sad I am. I am really sad. The challenges keep coming, changing. I've learned many coping mechanisms, I've found a higher power to run the show, I seek out help from support groups and therapists, I volunteer to help others. All of these things make me feel better, but to my bitter disappointment, they do...
Read more