I came here to catch up on blogs this morning. There are always new ones to catch up on. When you have a blogger like silverwhisper, for instance (hi, ed! :D), who blogs copiously, there are always new bits of knowledge to digest. And the queen of hot stories, secretlife, is always burning up SC with some bit of naughtiness. (In that one case, SL, feel free to be as prolific as you like, my dear. And as soon as possible, if you please.) The more blogs I read, the more I have to catch up on. I could probably spend all day here being a peeping Mimi looking into other people's lives.
I'm feeling inadequate! People, could you just slow down a little? No, I'm kidding. But not so much about the inadequate part.
I have been catching up my whole life. Literally, in some cases. When I still was able to walk, as a kid, it was clunky and awkward, with crutches and braces. I don't have the world's best sense of balance. When I was about 5, a physical therapist came to our house on a weekly basis, to teach me the finer points of walking. He promised me that if I learned how to walk all the way down and back our gravel driveway, he would give me a ride in his snazzy red convertible. When I finally did it, that was the sweetest car ride of my life. Probably why before I die, I WILL be getting a red convertible.
I was always trailing behind the other kids in the neighborhood. A lot of times I admit I gave up trying. It was too tiring, and more than a little disheartening, to lag further and further behind. I can only remember going trick-or-treating one or two times in my life. To this day, Halloween is one of those days that really isn't even a blip on my radar. (Except it's a pretty nifty excuse to eat candy.)
It was nothing but a relief to finally start using a wheelchair full-time. I could finally put those torture implements in the closet for good. I still have them somewhere, probably in the garage buried at the bottom of the wheelchair graveyard. Don't ask me why but B insists on keeping all the old ones. ("We might need them." For the record, wheelchair parts are not interchangeable. We will not need them.)
Anyway it was easier to keep up, on wheels. I would never have been able to perform my momly duties on my feet. At one point I had an infant balanced on the arm of the wheelchair (relax, I was holding him), and a two-year old clutching the arm of the chair, as I had taught her to do. Hmmm. I just made myself smile remembering that.
Well, I'm sure while I was writing this, SW's posted three or four more blogs, so I have some more catching up to do. Time's a-wasting.
