Last night was date night/Twin Peaks night. Neil and I haven’t had one of those in a long time, so Isla spent last night at Dad and Anne’s, playing with their cats and probably having too much sugar. She left and my heart felt like Swiss cheese. She came back and I touched her face and said I love you. She gave me her plastic Skye from Paw Patrol to keep until she gets back and out she runs demanding…
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,…
OK, so this actually just happened. Isla: I love you. And your wheelchair. You’re my wheelchair Mummy. I don’t want another Mummy. Mummy, are you sad? Me: No. Isla: Why you crying? Me: Because I’m happy. Isla: What? Me: Because I’m happy. Isla: What? Me: Because I love you very much. Isla: Yeah, I love you, too. Can I have an ice-lolly? …
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…
