A semblance of normality: An ex- lawyer/ stay at home mum/disabled mums view

I had a really good talk recently with my 10 year old about where babies come from. School and their friends had obviously given them some information, but I thought I should have a talk too. My talk went well. It went really well. So well, in fact, that I sent my husband this message: “I just had an interesting 'sex' talk with X. It was actually fine. X told me Y had said that people have sex. So I asked what that was . X told me it involved boy and girl’s private parts. I said it did. X kept sticking her tongue out and saying yuck - lol'” Anyway, phew. Hard work over about how babies get in and out and how surprisingly easy it was! It turns out it was easy - easily forgotten! I obviously did a terrible job because a few months later we were talking. I was confused because I knew we’d had 'that' talk. So I pushed. And it soon became obvious that X couldn't even remember ever having that conversation! Talk about annoying. I’d lost sleep over having 'that

I’ve tried really hard not to be too stroppy about this one. However, one of the hardest things about being disabled is the experience, time and again, of companies that just don’t think enough - or well enough - or creatively enough - about disabled access. Sure, there are laws, but in my experience, so many companies get away with doing the minimum, or just paying lip service. As far as surfaces go: I absolutely hate gravel, cobblestones and steps. If you are a company and you take nothing else away from this blog about disabled access, please know this: as a person using a walker/wheelchair, non-smooth and unlevel surfaces are my nemesis. Time and time again, I come across access situations where I wouldn't have a problem if a disabled person had just tested the access or been asked their opinion. Even if a non-disabled person just sat in a wheelchair (happy to lend you mine!) and tested various access paths themselves, it would become obvious how bad things can be and perhaps

Since becoming disabled, the list of places I find easy to access and feel comfortable and happy in, has become ludicrously and frustratingly small. However, I often ask my friends: 'Can we go to Greyfriars?' and even though I feel a bit cheeky suggesting we go to a posh hotel just for coffee, it really costs the same as a coffee shop. And it’s much nicer - and top of my easy-to-access list in Colchester. Greyfriars is lovely, steeped in history, most importantly for me its access lift is amazing! It has parking right near the door and the disabled toilet is very nice! Obviously I know Greyfriars does food as well as coffee! And very nice it is too. I have had Afternoon Tea here several times and it was lovely. I am a big fan of afternoon tea and pre- haemorrhage, I used to have Afternoon Tea a lot in London. But going into the city isn't the easiest now. So, let’s just say, I’m very pleased the Greyfriars Afternoon Tea is good. Lunch here was yummy, too and brilliant whe

 I am trying to raise awareness:  Disability can happen to anyone. At any time.  No one can see the future, anyone can become disabled but,  no one believes it could happen to them 🤷🏻‍♀️ I certainly didn't... 🤣 In her book, Discrimination Law, Sandra Fredman (second edition, 2010, Oxford University Press) talks about how surprising it is, given its random  nature, that society stigmatises, is prejudiced against and excludes disabled people.  Recently, I went to a store with a large flight of stairs to a showroom but no alternative means to access.  It was, of course, fine for me (I am sure you would be perfectly happy too!!) to only be able to access 50% of the shop easily... I lost sleep worrying about how I would negotiate this staircase.  Read my 'disability discrimination strikes again' and 'disability discrimination' posts. These are the things I have to deal with daily and its exhausting...  Look at my photos - it is as Sandra Fredman says completely 'r

Everyone I’ve ever spoken to seems to love cows. They seem to think cows are sweet and harmless milk-providing animals that you can innocently visit at most farms. I once went into a friend’s home and found her love for the bovine had extended to photographs of Highland cattle plastered all over her walls. I mean, what the...? To my mind, cows are evil, vicious animals. I suppose I could have been normal and just scared of something like spiders or snakes. But my cow phobia stems from an unfortunate incident when I was a young child. My aunty and uncle had taken me to a farm somewhere in Essex. See photos. There we were, enjoying ourselves in a field with a cute baby cow. My aunty and uncle said I could pet it. Yay. But the mummy cow was not impressed. In fact so unimpressed was Mrs Cow that she charged at us. My aunty claims she saved me that day, leaping in front and pushing me out of the way. I don't remember this. All I recall was everything going black, and from that day onwar