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I was sitting here at my computer last night doing some work when Daddy said, “Crawling!”
You don’t get up on his hands and knees like the traditional picture of crawling, but you did hitch yourself along the floor for about a foot by pulling yourself along with your hands.
Of course, then you laid there on your tummy with your arms airplaned out and your feet kicking in the air and you couldn’t figure out what to do. But at least occasionally, you now have forward mobility. We are in trouble.
That’s me: Christina Gleason. I’m a writer, editor, and disability advocate. I'm a multiply disabled autistic lady doing my best in this world built for abled people. I’m a geek for grammar, fantasy, and casual gaming. I hate vegetables. I cannot reliably speak, so I’ll happily conduct business over email or messaging instead.
