My life with the Sullivan boys

As I slid furiously through the dark tunnel screaming with glee, I could feel my four year old's hands gripping my legs tightly, we reached the open section of the water slide and I was still screaming. We reached the end of the slide with a sudden splash into the pool and an enormous sense of joy filled me. "I wanna go again!" I hollered, my two typical boys were glad to oblige me. I felt as though they were enjoying my very rare sense of free spiritedness. You see most days I forget how fun it is to be a mother. Tonight, my husband and my oldest son are off at the race car speedway. I'm here with the other boys, again. I wanted to go to the track. I'd gone last year and enjoyed myself throughly. The people watching, monster trucks so loud you can feel them in your chest, three specific kinds of stock cars racing in a quarter mile track and let's not forget the endless display of mullets. But I'm not there. I'm home. I just got my two little ones ...

I am not different, I am ordinary. My son Dermot is an ordinary boy. There are a lot of children like Dermot. Our family's situation is not special or remarkable. I know that now.  At ten thirty this morning I didn't feel that way at all. I was full of apprehension because of our second unpredictable social situation this weekend.  First was the neighborhood block party. I get all tensed up, make sure my boys look presentable and bring an extra special dessert. The party was great. We met several new neighbors, chatted with familiar ones and watched our boys enjoy the deejay and dance their little behinds off. Worried for nothing! One down, one to go I told myself as we were walking home Saturday evening.  The other would be on Sunday morning. A graduation open house for a friend of the family. We would know only the family and ALL the others would be watching us and staring at Dermot, I told myself.  We set out a bit late. I made sure the boys were dressed appropriat...