iWhat?

How come none of you told me about how cool iPods are?

How would I have ever known that Justin Timberlake actually has a cool song or two?

Or that I could get a dance remix of Whitney singing The Greatest Love of All?

Or realized that with it, I can listen to Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go as often and as loud as I want without anyone having anything smart to say about it?

If you have known me for a long time, you will not be surprised to know that the very first song I listened to was Guns 'n' Roses "Welcome to the Jungle". And then the Pixies, Fergie, Ok-Go, and ...

If I don't come back soon, look for me with little white wires coming out of my ears, hunched in front of the computer, listening to Elvis dance remixes.

Drive

Last week, I went to the DMV and picked up our Permanent Disabled Parking ID tags.

It was not really a happy day.

We were given reason to believe, when Peanut was a newborn, that we wouldn't need them. We've known for a while it would be necessary after all, but it was something else to actually hand the forms over and say, "It's for my daughter" when asked who it was for.

I know, I know, I should be used to it by now. But I still find that I have to steel myself and take a deep breath before I say "My daughter is disabled". I guess it's because most of the time, it's not something I think about. Dealing with and adapting to her limitations has become so much a part of our lives that it always comes as a shock to actually use that word.

We actually used the card at one of the malls this weekend, when we went to get family portraits done. Of course, we did it so late because we've all been sick and now it's too late to get the photos before Christmas, but whatever. Anyway, it was very useful because Peanut now wants to walk from the car into the store and back. She hasn't gotten the idea that she can't just stop in the middle of the traffic lane and look around, though, so we're working on that.

From this trip, I got to make my first complaint regarding accessibility. You see, the disabled spots where we parked were not accompanied by a curb-cut to the sidewalk. This meant that Peanut either had to get picked up to get over the curb, or she needed to walk into the parking lot from between two cars in order to get to the crosswalk over to the mall. This is a remarkably stupid bit of planning. The mall is currently under construction, so I took a few minutes today and called the general manager. She was very pleasant, and said she'd noticed the same thing and would definitely pass along this request to the people in charge of such things.

I'm still new at this, so I have some actual hope that it will work.

Two Sunday Conversations

Bad Mama: Stop licking your snot, Peanut.

Peanut: But it's so tasty!

***

Peanut: Mama, I'm eating the water!

Bad Mama: Don't eat your bathwater, Peanut.

Peanut: But it tastes so sweet!



I'd write more, but the painkillers are kicking in a little more effectively than normal and I don't think I'll be coherent for very long.