Oct 15, 2025 -- A morning in the life of a paraplegic-mom-greeting card illustrator.

I woke up around 8 am this morning. Levi was taking a longer-than-normal snooze, asleep on my chest, raspy breathing from his cold. 

He’s almost 8 months old.

I check my phone for texts. I know this is probably a bad habit, but it is what it is for most people these days, I would guess.

After a little while, my husband wakes up.

It’s our routine that Kelsey takes the baby while I put my leggings on.

(I’ve found out that maternity leggings accommodate my paralyzed body better than any other lower body piece of clothing. )

It takes me about five minutes to roll back and forth and wiggle into a pair of leggings.

The first time I tried to put a pair of pants on by my-paralyzed-self, I was laughing because it was soooo hard.

It took me probably 15 minutes. Trying to balance with only getting to use my chest and arms.

Dealing with a leg that didn’t cooperate.

Not being able to lift your butt off the bed.

[It would be totally misleading to say that being paralyzed doesn’t influence my every waking minute. I think I identify more with being paralyzed than any other descriptor (woman, 37-year-old, white, artist, entrepreneur, wife).]

I put on my one wool striped sock, tie my right pant leg into a knot, and slide into my wheelchair, using a slideboard–again, you don’t get to lift your butt off the ground! – no cheating!

Then I put on my pillow — a “mybreastfriend” — around my waist, because this is the easiest way I’ve found to carry Levi.

That, and a stretchy ribbed shirt — looping the neck opening down around his arms.

He’s getting big, though. When he was a newborn, I was basically a marsupial carrying him around in my pouch, illustrating cards on my iPad and getting lots of work done. Now, I feel like a Mama Kanagroo whose Joey is getting to be too big to carry around all the time. 😅 And he has almost no patience for sitting in front of a computer while I try to answer emails, edit videos or draw.

He likes to ride around in his walker. Exploring the house on his own. I put him in and lift him out on my own, although I will say it’s getting tricky to lift him out — he’s about 18 pounds, and without the use of my ab muscles, it’s quite a workout!

Kelsey had an early meeting, so I’m left alone with Levi. Ellie is sleeping in. So Levi and I roll around the house, me trying to tidy up for a few minutes.

Then Ellie wakes up. Thankfully, in a pretty good mood this morning.

[She’s into experiments these days — she’s 4 years old and bright as a button. Trouble. Adorable. 😄 She loves singing, she has quite a broad vocabulary: mechanism, electrolites,

This morning, she is taste-testing the electrolyte flamingo-shaped ice cubes she made yesterday morning. Apparently quite sour!

Then she drops one on the floor for Lucy, who licks it a few times, then leaves it in the middle of the floor, melting.

I ask her to grab a paper towel, please wipe it up. She does. She’s a pretty good little kid, even if she gets up to all sorts of mess making.

Then Ellie wants to take a shower. While she showers, I race back and forth to the kitchen, trying to make breakfast.

Sometimes I’m amazed at the things I’m able to do now. My newly paralyzed self would be happy to see me cracking eggs one-handed, struggling with Levi who is trying to grab a spoon off the counter.

After cracking the eggs into the pan, I put a lid on, set a timer so I don’t forget, and wheel quickly to the bathroom to check on Ellie.

She dries off with a bumblebee towel, walks around the house, and eventually manages to get a whole outfit back on again.

We eat at the kitchen counter.

Levi, who usually wants to nap at 9:30 has been doing remarkably well not having a meltdown. [My older sister who was just vistiting, has brilliantly sleep-trained her two boys, and it’s times like these that I wish I had also sleep-trained Levi…Ah well, it doesn’t fit our personalities, I guess. ]

We each eat half a slice of homemade toast. I enjoy the most perfect homegrown tomato from our neighbor, who is an incredibly nice guy and grows roughly 1,000 lbs of tomatoes every summer.) The eggs came from our own free-range hens.

Can’t beat it.

Miraculously, Ellie is dressed, fed, and has her backpack on. Tuck a blanket. around Levi, toss a polar fleece oversized jacket on myself, put a cute little hat on Levi, and roll outside.

It’s misting, but not too cold. Kind of rare, magical weather for where we live.

Finally Kelsey comes home and picks up the kids so Levi can nap, Ellie can get to school, and I can get to work.

I’m spending the first chunk of time writing to you!

Next, I will probably do some video editing, although I have a fat stack of greeting cards that are written but still need mailing.

Will I get to do any art today before Levi comes home?

I’m learning to commit to routines.

In order for Tiny and Snail to be sustainable, I have found that it requires me to be a creative workhorse.

Working on my daily rhythms and systems is the secret.

I’m still working at it. But I find that if I lean into habits, rather than to-do lists, my life as a creative worker feels more fun, manageable, and less overwhelming. Action, creation, is where the fun is and where you silence doubts.

When we commit to a daily route, that’s when the path appears.

It’s about time I switch to a different task now.
Those product descriptions aren’t going to write themselves!

More tomorrow,

Sending creative energy, badass strength, and patience beyond measure your way today.

xo

Tiny

P.S. My parents just called, wondering if I’d like to go for a “walk” in the rain. I have a hard time saying no to it. (You never know when it might be the last time you get to do something with your parents.) We will do a few blocks, and then I’d better get back to work.