My friend Laura . . . well, I don't even know how to tell you why you should read this. But you should. You should read it with a copious supply of tissues nearby. And then you should go hug your babies, or your mama, or someone who wasn't expecting a hug today but needs one, and thank God for the oft-unlooked-for miracle that is quotidian life.
I've been swinging maniacally between appalled and delighted at this story: human-leather-bound books re-discovered at Harvard library. It's just so wrong, but if I had one, I think I would kind of love it.
This one made me happy for two reasons: A Different Kind of Walker. Number one, obviously, everybody likes something that makes life a little cheerier for special-needs families. And this one is so especially clever--who knows what sorts of developmental leaps might be enabled by putting kids in a "normal" position for their age, leaps that were previously understood to be precluded by the disabling condition itself rather than by the absence of a typical developmental experience? But, number two, go moms. Who knows what sort of therapeutic advances might be facilitated by listening to more caregivers, leaps that were previously dismissed as not being worthy of "serious professional" attention because they came from "mere" moms?
Also, Vive le Francais! Actually, some of these are pretty dumb reasons. There is really only one that matters. You should learn French because then you will be more motivated to visit France some day, and if you do, you will be able to eat Mont d'Or, and macarons, and financiers, and Marmite Dieppoise, and fifty-year-old Calvados. (And if you do, you should take me with you. Because I haven't been back in ten years, and I still cry sometimes about that.)
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