I’ve been blogging for a long time and you might have noticed I’ve been trying to be more consistent with it. Since I’ve come off my various hiatuses, I’m curious about why you’ve stuck with me, and other good stuff about you, my groovy readers. If you would be so groovy, and answer these questions, that would be swell. 1. How long have you been reading my rambles and how did you find me? 2. Are you disabled, a parent,…
And so, after painting all the pictures and doing all the puzzles, Isla and I went out. We’ve paved around the house so we can have races and stuff, so there’s that. But we live on a hill. ‘Go over the stones and roll down the hill with me, Mummy.’ ‘I can’t, baby. I wouldn’t get back up.’ ‘Please, Mummy. Just try.’ Which is what we ask her to do. So, I tried. And my heart broke a little. Because…
On Tuesday, when I picked Isla up from nursery, she hugged my lap as she sometimes does. ‘I MISSED you, Mummy.’ ‘Really?’ I asked. She’s a Daddy’s girl, see. I am obviously still questioning every bit of affection she doles out. To me. ‘Yeah,’ she said ‘Did someone pay you to say that?’ ‘Uhm. No.’ When I’m happy, my eyes kinda crinkle up until you can’t see them. Like Isla’s. Because, y’know, I’m her mother. I did a little dance…
How many mothers with CP (some would call ourselves spaz hands) does it take to rip jelly blocks and then remove the set jelly from jelly molds? One. And today, that one is me. And this is what it looks like when your kid insists on having that jelly with cheese crackers. Notice how the jelly looks like butterflies? Yeah, me neither.…
I’d lost track of how long I’ve been at this blogging thing. But WordPress told me last week. I’ve been writing at Gin & Lemonade for six years. Well. That makes me want to apologise that my last post before this was a muddy puddle. But I won’t, because y’know, cute kid. Someone asked me recently how I was doing. ‘Yeah, she’s two.’ ‘I know,’ said my friend, in Edinburgh, on the phone, in a building where I used to…
