Beefs about being the cpchic

      When I’m having a bad day, all evil points to my cerebral palsy, luckily today is a good day. I have two big pending projects on the back burner simmering. Both seem to have promise.  And I just found out that my husband is planning a surprise trip for me. I absolutely love surprises. Look at me, letting Bobby plan the whole darn weekend. I’m so not gonna micromanage the trip, telling him where I want to eat, (acme seafood) or suggesting he consider renting those electric motorcycle scooters thingy. He’s just so cute.  Bobby so thinks I’m a control freak, like I’m totally not. I wonder if he made reservations.

     Before my week got better, I was contemplating what I should write about for this blog. After much consideration, I thought I’d share my biggest beefs about having a disability. They may surprise you.

     Not being able to walk is a pain but I guess since I was born with cerebral palsy, I don’t really miss what I never had. For the most part, I have done almost everything I’ve wanted, just in a different way. I’ve travelled; I snow ski using a special sit-ski. I’m trying to save money to buy a trike so I can do fun runs, eventually maybe the “M” word.

     The biggest problem about not walking is transporting my 10 ton wheelchair. Ok, it’s not 10 tons but it’s not exactly portable. Meaning in town, we always have to go in my ride and we when are out of town, we have to rent an accessible vehicle which is usually three times the cost of a standard car. On the positive side my wheelchair can go about 6 miles on one charge, I can run my son into the ground on any given outing. Except of course for the time I sorta forgot to recharge my batteries for days and got stuck at the very back of my parents’ 13 acres property. My son & hubby giggled like little girls when I had to ask them to “rescue” me. Because I’m stubborn, I would still be out there except I’m deathly afraid of ticks, snakes and the neighbor’s bull that doesn’t always respect fence boundaries…

     My lack of coordination is a pain but for the most part, daily life runs smoothly. Although I do think that in an alternate reality I’m a brilliant chef and I’ve built a luxurious log cabin in my spare time. I enjoyed cooking, til my 5^th ER visit when my insurance company said they would no longer cover stovetop burns or knife cuts. Of course I’m kidding, Bobby never let it get that far, despite my occasional attempts. For the most part, I create recipes and my boys make the dream come to the plate, may I say, only a few dishes have been disastrous. A few have even become house favorites.
I cannot explain my channeling Bob Villa every time we go to Home Depot. But with each step down the nail isle, I feel the growing urge to home improve something. Sadly, my husband seems to have a much stronger will power, not always able to hear the call of the hammer. Worse, in a home improvement emergency, he knows what to do. Like a pro. Bobby just chooses not to use his super powers voluntarily unless begging, bribing or threatening to hire a cute handyman is involved. Combining my two secret passions, I am currently planning my greatest project, building a deck with a gourmet outdoor kitchen. To start out with all I really need is wood and a nail gun with a safety right? Bobby is never taking me to home depot again is he? Luckily for me, they deliver lumber, yes I checked before writing this.

     Not walking and my lack of being able to cook a descent soufflé is kinda a bummer but surprisingly my biggest beef with having cerebral palsy is my speech. Maybe not in my world, nor within my social circles, but in general, it makes trying to find a job, almost impossible. Most people are too impatient to listen to a typed text turned into a monotone computerized voice. Hell even my friends rather listen to me babble than a computer voice, and if you have heard me babble, that’s saying a lot. And as fabulous as those relay operators are for phone calls, I have had many people hang up on me, thinking it was a telemarketer. And I don’t think you can necessarily blame people for that. I think that’s why I wanted to become a writer, I thought my written words would pave my solid employment path in life. But then again it was the 80s. I also thought leg warmers were cute.

     Overall I think I have a pretty good attitude about having a disability. Although I must admit, the older I am, the more it feels like a bigger hindrance in trying to reach my life’s goals. I appreciate the loving lectures of trying to be happy with what you have and all that but I’m just trying to keep up with the siblings and cousins. I don’t see my handicap as an excuse not to have high, but I don’t think, unrealistic expectations for myself. You can’t help what you need to feel complete. And for me, it’s to have a successful career. I’m already the perfect wife, mother, and friend. This would complete me. If people don’t want to listen to me, maybe I should get a megaphone. My husband and son will absolutely love that.  (in case there was the slightest doubt… last 4 sentences OOZES sarcasm. Oozes.)