I have been doing technical writing courses for over a year now. I've been doing them online through Simon Fraser university. My final assignment in my final course was due this week - a 25-page document, which for me was a social media policy for a local organization, complete with a basic guide book to social media. The document has labelled screen shots, and diagrams, and charts, and an index...it's been a lot of work over the last ten weeks, and *a lot* of work over the last two weeks, and I'm quite proud of it. I'm just hoping that the organization and my professors feel the same way.
So, that's been taking up all of my time this week. And any other energy I've had has gone into worrying about my cat, who got outside last Saturday night...making and putting up posters, calling radio stations, vets, newspapers, pet stores...anyone willing to take some information or put up a notice...trying to keep my other cat's anxiety level down (she doesn't like being separated from her friend), and wondering why my cat going for a little walkabout put me in such an emotional tailspin.
Thankfully, my little wanderer showed up outside my window early Friday morning,. She was soaking wet from the rain, and very hungry, but thankfully unharmed, and she has nicely settled back into apartment living. I have never been so happy to see that stupid cat.
So, that has been my week. A lot has come up that I will be writing about, but for tonight I'll leave you with a nice image. I wrote not that long ago about how I feared that, only being able to use one hand, I was concerned about how much I'd be able to interact with my infant niece, Gillian. I can't
just go and pick her up the way everyone else does. But my sister and her husband are fine with putting her in my arms, and on a recent visit Rachel put her in what they both call "treefrog" position against my chest.
Now, I'm sure that "treefrog" isn't the technical term for this position, but Rachel and Gavin started calling it that because Gillian snuggles right in when she's in it - like a treefrog suctioning itself to a tree. Rachel thinks it's because she likes being near someone's heartbeat.
|"Treefrogging" - Gillian and Gavin|
She slept in my arms for a good 45 minutes this way, all warm and snuggled up against me, making her little baby sleep noises...and I suddenly felt much more like I was able to be a part of Gillian's baby years.
"Of course you can be!" my sister scoffed when I told her about this, and I realized that it hadn't even occurred to her that I wouldn't (or couldn't) hold Gillian because of my disabilities.
I guess I sometimes still make a bigger deal of things than they need to be...even after over a decade of living with disabilities. I'll talk a bit more about that tomorrow night.