Welcome to Little Green Walker, a blog about raising a kid with a disability (extrapyramidal non-spastic dystoniccerebral palsy – the rare kind!) and about finding my own place in this world as a woman, mother, wife, person.
This post may disappear – or change, or something – at any time. But I didn’t want a blank site, even as I’m starting to create it. For now, this will be my intro. For now, I’m not allowing comments. For now. For now. For now.
Why am I starting a blog?
Well, this isn’t my first time with a blog – or a zine, for that matter – but it felt like it was a good time to start something a bit more formal.
I have now been at my contract position for five months.
In that time I have made a buttload of money. (Jen Sincero says that it’s OK to talk about money this way and I’m trying to live my truth.) I really have. I’ve been paid a rate that I never would have dreamed of asking for. This entire gig has been a gift in that way – I walked right into it, sat down, and started doing all the things. I thank the universe (and the friend who got me the job) all the time. I do not take any of this for granted.
But this financial boon comes with such a cost. Of course it does. Nothing is all good or all bad. I know this and so do you. Read more
I have a lot of opinions. I have a lot of thoughts – about my family, my child, politics, the arts, the world.
I apparently wear a sign that everyone else can see that says “She’s wrong! Whatever she says, you disagree! Make sure she knows that her thoughts are invalid, upsetting, rude, problematic, or just plain incorrect.”
It’s exhausting. I constantly am surrounded by people speaking their minds about all of the above, but if I dare to counter – or even just to suggest a slight difference – I wind up feeling like a failure. I’m challenged or questioned or clucked at or shouted down.
I’m questioned about my kid’s diagnosis. I’m wrong about the movies I like. The stores I want to shop at. The articles I want to write. The ways I want to live my life. Just…wrong.
I speak out and then I’m instantly sorry. You’re right, I’m wrong, I should never have bothered. I try so hard to just smile and nod and agree and be agreeable – but I don’t understand why that’s something I have to do but you don’t. Why can you make me feel like crap?
Update in case you’ve read this far is that I’m still at the job and it’s going well but LG is home all summer with no camp, so I get home from work and have to snap into mom mode instantly. I’m thrilled to be working – and to be nearly out of debt! – I’m just tired. So tired. Of everything and everyone.