I’ve always been really excited by my birthdays. The air was different, everyone was nice to me. When I was a kid, I actually made wishes when I blew out the candles. Most of them came true. And the seconds after the candles are out is still the best scent, ever. This year, I feel every one of my years, and I’ve decided that that’s OK. ‘It’s Mummy’s birthday, you have to be extra nice to her today,’ Neil says…
When I read about Stephen Hawking’s death, I was transported to a pub in Glasgow where I once found a prime piece of graffiti: Stephen Hawking hates karaoke. I remember discussing this line with my friends and deciding it was kinda apt. My first thought on the death of genius was a tenuously linked personal memory. I went on about my day, steering Isla away from chocolate for all of her meals. I said nothing on social media because I very…
And so, over the weekend the fam and I went on road-trip to celebrate Neil’s birthday and to mark my 25th year in Scotland. More about that later. Our car is still in the garage after the last road-trip, so we piled into our red replacement and went in search of seafood. The music in the car was CD 3 of our wedding mix. The music that played during the cocktail hour. Did I mention we missed our own reception?…
Since I’ve decided to tell it like it is about my life with a disability, I thought I might write a post spelling out my perspective of what disability actually is. This is not a general post on all disabilities. I’m aware that there are visible and invisible ones. I can only speak from my own experience as a wheelchair-user. Over the weekend, the fam and I went to a bookshop. There was a steep, but useable ramp to get…
I am a mother. I am disabled. I am sometimes a disabled mother. Isla went back to nursery school today, after mid-winter break. I enjoyed having her home for three days. I’m also enjoying being able to write this post in silence, without cartoons in the background, while she is at school. This morning we had our usual cuddles with TV and waffles before what Isla calls ‘the team effort’ to get her dressed. She’s hopping around, pulling her jeans…
