Either I am really hormonal or there is something genuinely wrong with how people view disability. Or both. Maybe it’s both.
I keep watching videos in my Facebook feed about people with disabilities being accepted — not being accepted despite their disabilities but because of their normal “I am actually a human being just like you” qualities. (more…)
Last night, I put my son to bed, said goodnight 15 times and after several hugs and requests for water was finally released downstairs. And then, I heard this:
“I want May to be like me.” (more…)
Glamour model Katie Price has done it again. And by again, I mean risen again in my estimations. I only call her a glamour model because that is what she is known for. But, for me, she is at the forefront of the most honest, heartfelt and real conversations we have about disabled children. (more…)
Ah, the poor government. It can be rough when things don’t go your way.
Like this week when they were defeated in the courts over the Bedroom Tax. Or, when the House of Lords voted that they needed to keep income as a measure of child poverty. (Stupid House of Lords *kicks can* thinks income has something to do with to poverty!) (more…)
I read a deeply disturbing article last night. I should have been asleep, but instead I scrolled through The Guardian’s web site and accidentally landed on a story that resonated all too closely to my own life.
As a child with special needs grows, sometimes it can feel like her development plateaus. Or at least, the time between developmental milestones is long or the worry is she won’t hit another. (more…)
Three years ago, I signed us up for an accessible house on the housing register. Last week, we received the keys for our new home. I raced my 4-year old, Ieuan, in the house and up the stairs. The one flight of stairs. One flight — not four — with step-free access so we can wheel May from her school bus right into our kitchen. (more…)
Four months ago, I could barely walk across my kitchen.
One month ago, I marched, along with thousands of others, from the Bank of England to Parliament Square. A march of protest against austerity, but for me another protest too: against ill health with the physical proof that I could walk the length of the march.
So, did I make it? (more…)
For the two months, I’ve kept quiet about something. A few of my friends know, and certainly my family does, but the story still seems so outlandish to me that I’ve barely said anything to anyone about it. (more…)
Yesterday, I gave a speech at the National Day Nursery Association’s national conference. And yes, when I was dropped off by the taxi in front of this sports arena that I’m assuming seats tens of thousands, I did think, “What the hell am I doing here?” (more…)