My life with the Sullivan boys

There's a message on the machine when I return home. "Hi Sue this is Deb from transportation, because of a scheduling issue with another student, effective immediately Dermot's new drop off time will be twelve noon." I paced in circles in my kitchen, I'm angry. I've planned my entire school year around this school drop off time, and they changed it. Just like that. I sit on my kitchen floor and cry. I cannot be two places at once. I guess Dermot doesn't get to ride the bus. I call Deb back and leave a voicemail. "Hello Deb, this is Sue Sullivan Dermot Sullivan's mother. I will pick up Dermot from school effective immediately." With each word it becomes more obvious that I'm crying through the message so I hang up. It seems to be a trivial occurance or a minor irritation from the outside. I tried to tell myself that. But why was I moved to tears so quickly and so intensely? Am I finally losing it? Have I lost my composure for the last ...

God dam nit! God Damn it! I shouted as loud as my lungs would let me. My cute adorable little beagle had done it again. God damn it! I couldn't stop shouting. My four year old looked at me as if I was a crazy person. "Mom, that hurts my ears." he informed me. " "I'm sorry honey, mommy's really angry. I'll try to stop yelling so loud." I told him as I was feverishly removing the slipcover on my white canvas couch. I moved this couch down from the boys room for a fresh start. No dog drool or urine. No stains, no gross history. Just fresh crisp white couch. Until this morning. I was arranging the cute new throw pillows on my pristine couch when I noticed the puddle. God damn it! My sense of order has been rocked. My idea of how things are isn't true. My dog peed on my couch. Again. Dermot starts kindergarten tomorrow. He's going to be fine. He will love it. His teachers will love him. I know all of this , I do. But the thought of d...

Our nanny of three + years left in May to go to nursing school. I've missed her ever since. When I'm at the pool with the boys, I think I see her out of the corner of my eye, but its not her. She's in Arizona for at least fifteen months. When she returns she will hopefully get a job in the pediatric ward of a children's hospital. She's perfect for the job. I found two other people right away to take over for her and watch the boys. I thought it would take some time to adjust. Two months later, I'm still adjusting. I interviewed the new people, they both have experience with special needs so I was comforted by that. I've trained them in on how to feed and change Dermot. Showed them how to administer his medications, fit his new TLSO brace around his body properly. Instructed them on how to use the various equipment, the wheelchair, the stander, the bath chair. Both caught on quickly. But there's something missing, I remember mentioning in the intervie...

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...

Father Tasto, Last Sunday my family and I decided to come back to church. We were members of St. Thomas for at least 3 years and attended regularly until the birth of my third son. Life got in the way and went hadn’t been back on a regular basis for a good three years. Occasionally my husband and my oldest son, who’s eight would attend mass. After having a pleasurable experience at our in-laws church in Fond du Lac Wisconsin, we decided it was time to get the family back to church on a regular basis.  We loaded everyone into the van and drove to the 11 a.m. mass. We arrived and unloaded from the van. When we got to the entrance, we headed straight to the elevator, as our 6 year old is profoundly disabled and requires a wheelchair for mobility. My husband waited in front of the elevator while I escorted my four and eight year old to the main level. My boys were actually very excited to go to church, we waited for my husband and other son by the elevator. After a few minu...

"Why is Dermot here?", he asked, and for a nano second,       I was offended. But then I remembered, he's eight. "Why wouldn't he be here, he's Owen's brother." I answered. "But he can't play basketball" he continued. "I know, but do you know what Dermot's favorite thing to do is?" He shook his head. "He loves being around lots of kids and listening to them play." That satisfied him for a while and off he went to play basketball with all the other eight year olds attending Owen's birthday party. Not being a great basketball player, he returned while I was preparing the tables for the influx of Pizza Hut that was on it's way. What does Dermot do?, does Dermot go to school?, does Dermot have a bed?, does Dermot have other friends that are in wheelchairs?, how much did his wheelchair cost? After answering many questions about Dermot I stopped what I was doing, rolled Dermot closer to the curious...