Not Yet
So all day I've been thinking of ways to write about my day. Or even if I should write about my day. I planned everything out last night. I packed the diapers, wipes, extra clothes, printed out his sheets for his communication folder, filled out the forms for the field trips and wrote the check.
I was ready. Dermot was ready, we thought.
As the storm approached we waited for the bus. 7:50 arrival time meant we'd need to feed Dermot faster than normal. I didn't think anything of it. As the bus arrived, Owen and Ryan came out to meet it. Owen had never seen Dermot get on his bus and was excited. We all rolled Dermot out to the bus and started to back him up onto the ramp and he spit up. Then he threw up on his shirt. We'd go change him and the bus driver would be back.
I brought him inside and laid him down to change him and wondered.
Why I was the one who always took him.
Why did I feel compelled to wipe the puke away and wash it off his TLSO brace.
Why did I think I was the only one who could care for him the right way?
His dad offered to change him. Grandmas' wanted to hold him, babysitters offered to play with him, friends asked to stay with him.
I get in the way. I monitor. I watch. I hover. I protect.
I wonder if it's because I don't want you to discover how helpless he is. Or maybe you'll find out how heavy and awkward his body is. You'll be afraid or creeped out, you'll pity him, or worse, you'll pity me.
My friend has a newborn daughter I get to see every week. I look forward to seeing her, holding her and talking to her and seeing her smile when I make a funny face. While I hold her I notice her mother seems lighter, a little more free. Perhaps its because she's been attached to her baby all day long and needs a break. Perhaps its because it makes her happy to see friends love her baby.
So I return to my need to protect Dermot, not let you know him too well. I need to let you in. Let you know how great he is. How when you hold him he purrs a bit and just might nuzzle in for a bit. I need to let you know how hard it is sometimes. He might give you a blank stare or burp up a bit. That's Dermot. Warts and all.
So Dermot stayed home today, probably will tomorrow too. Seems he's caught a bug or some sort. When he's better I promise I'll try to let you know him a little better.
But be patient with me, I'm still learning to let you get close.
I was ready. Dermot was ready, we thought.
As the storm approached we waited for the bus. 7:50 arrival time meant we'd need to feed Dermot faster than normal. I didn't think anything of it. As the bus arrived, Owen and Ryan came out to meet it. Owen had never seen Dermot get on his bus and was excited. We all rolled Dermot out to the bus and started to back him up onto the ramp and he spit up. Then he threw up on his shirt. We'd go change him and the bus driver would be back.
I brought him inside and laid him down to change him and wondered.
Why I was the one who always took him.
Why did I feel compelled to wipe the puke away and wash it off his TLSO brace.
Why did I think I was the only one who could care for him the right way?
His dad offered to change him. Grandmas' wanted to hold him, babysitters offered to play with him, friends asked to stay with him.
I get in the way. I monitor. I watch. I hover. I protect.
I wonder if it's because I don't want you to discover how helpless he is. Or maybe you'll find out how heavy and awkward his body is. You'll be afraid or creeped out, you'll pity him, or worse, you'll pity me.
My friend has a newborn daughter I get to see every week. I look forward to seeing her, holding her and talking to her and seeing her smile when I make a funny face. While I hold her I notice her mother seems lighter, a little more free. Perhaps its because she's been attached to her baby all day long and needs a break. Perhaps its because it makes her happy to see friends love her baby.
So I return to my need to protect Dermot, not let you know him too well. I need to let you in. Let you know how great he is. How when you hold him he purrs a bit and just might nuzzle in for a bit. I need to let you know how hard it is sometimes. He might give you a blank stare or burp up a bit. That's Dermot. Warts and all.
So Dermot stayed home today, probably will tomorrow too. Seems he's caught a bug or some sort. When he's better I promise I'll try to let you know him a little better.
But be patient with me, I'm still learning to let you get close.
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