Three years ago I thought it was brilliant to have a FLY FISHING CREEL for a d-bag. I would carry this everywhere we went, even to walk the dog. With an ice pack in it. NOW, for dog walking: Dexcom and a tube of Glucolift. In a pocket. For longer excursions we currently use this d-bag and have been for some time; it’s perfect for us. The creel became a storage container for grocery bags.
Three years ago I didn’t understand why on earth I would need a 504 plan in our super-supreme school district. This year that changed and we got one. NOW, this week, every day, I have been in the ridiculous-feeling position of explaining the importance of adhering to the 504 to assorted teachers. When you do or don’t do X, this is the negative outcome, this is the part of the 504 that says you can’t or must do X…
Four years ago, I thought my 8-year-old son was being kind of a baby. He wouldn’t get out of bed in the morning. He was a second-grader, but I had to lift him from his bed, steer his head and each limb into the assorted articles of clothing, carry him down the stairs, and perch him on a kitchen stool. He would remain asleep. He had a complete physical. He should go to bed earlier was the prescribed remedy. We made him go to bed at 8:30, then at 8. It was not dark outside. We had him get into bed at 7:30 so he’d have plenty of time to fall asleep. Then we made him get into bed at 7. The sun had yet to set. He remained droopy regardless of bedtime. We went on a big family vacation to Europe with super-fun cousins. He wanted to stay in the cabin or flat regardless of weather, availability of water slides, or country. We forced him to walk around to see assorted sites. He insisted on sitting still or being carried. He was too big to be carried all day. We thought this was kind of funny so we took lots of pictures of each other carrying him. Can you believe this guy? He was hungry but then wouldn’t eat. He was afraid of germs at tapas bars but would guzzle water from any public spigot. He would beg for a drink at every vendor’s cart. He would only eat at a place called Wok to Walk where he would order noodles and then change his mind after a few bites. We thought he was kind of a drag. NOW I feel terrible about all of this and think: he could have been diagnosed so much sooner! It didn’t have to be a whole year of feeling terrible for no apparent reason! Why don’t kids pee on a strip at their annual physicals?
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