I've got a confession to make. When I was a teenager, I thought listening to rock music made you do drugs. This wasn't something I learned from my parents, who had no issues with my brothers (and sister? I suppose so) listening to rock, sometimes at ungodly hours and deafening volumes. I grew up hearing... Continue Reading →
Well, Crap.
According to my multitudinous readers (all 12 of you), the blog I posted yesterday covered the same subject I wrote about a year ago, on the same anniversary. And I had totally forgotten about it. For the few of you who remembered, probably had a moment of "hey, wait a minute...", scrolled through my year's... Continue Reading →
Anniversary
Tim likes to tell people we were high school sweethearts. Technically, it's true. We dated in high school. He was my first love. But for me, "sweethearts" denotes something we weren't; a long-term couple devoted to each other, their relationship spanning several years, unmarred by ugly breakups. There were two couples who dated at the... Continue Reading →
End of the Roll
The last four posts were written in response to historical criticism and questions I have fielded as a mom of a person with a disability. Not everyone who observes our situation weighs in with criticism, but enough have done so over the years to make me reflexively defend my actions to potential naysayers. From her well-intentioned classmates... Continue Reading →
Frame 4
She stayed at school. Wrapping the ribs stabilized her enough to make her comfortable when she moved. She was able to get herself to a sitting position with much less pain, and even transferred herself between chairs. Sitting up for long periods still isn't fun, but she figured she could manage lying down when needed... Continue Reading →
Meg Currell 