I have started homeschooling my kids. It is one of the more difficult tasks I have taken on. But now I have complete control of curriculum and I know precisely where and what my children’s problems are. I have not had time to write. I have spent so much time studying, planning and correcting while still having to work, run errands and manage the house. I keep telling myself I will write when the kids grow up. One day i will become what i want yo be. I can go to writers conferences then. Maybe my life just isn’t fit for writing. That makes me kinda sad, actually. And while my kids may benefit from my teaching them personally, I have my doubts I will get any benefits from it. Maybe I am just too negative right now. But in any case,if I have to teach them, they will be learning ASL!
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Daily Prompt: Circle of Five
by michelle w. on December 12, 2012
A writer once said, “You are the average of the five people you spend the most time with.” If this is true, which five people would you like to spend your time with?
This is a cool prompt – and after serving almost a full week on a federal jury, I really need the brain candy. So I will accept this challenge!
There was no limiting to persons in this age/time, so I am going to pick the five top people I have always wanted to spend time with, and I’ll tell you why I wanted to spend time with them.
5. Joseph Smith – Not just because he is the founder of my church, the LDS church, but because I have so many questions for him. I wasn’t always interested in his life because his story is familiar and retold again and again in the church as you study the history of the Gospel and Mormon Doctrine. But after really reading his history, his writings and many of the things that other people thought of him, I am really interested to know what he thought about it all and I think, from the stories I know, that he would be a really great guy to have around just for stories and general good humor.
4. Jim Henson – Dying to know what he wanted to do if he had more time on Earth. Also, a great story teller. I’m sure he could just sit around and tell stories forever. I would love to brainstorm up a story with him. Try to figure out which muppets would fit in with what classic myth- who wouldn’t love that?
3. – Libby Custer – I’m just fascinated by her story and her efforts to defend her husband’s legacy after his death. I would really like to do a sit down interview with her and find out everything I could about how she felt about her husband. Such loyalty has to come from somewhere deep. I would just love to sit and listen where such convictions were born. There aren’t many women that dedicate their widowhood to defending their husbands legacy as stridently as she did. She sounds spunky. I really want to meet her.
2. C.S. Lewis – So many questions for “Jack”–the first of which would be why he insisted on being called Jack. I would love for him to personally teach me how to understand the language of apologetics the way other apologists do. I really can’t understand them once they all start talking to each other. It’s like another language. I’d want to tell him how much my husband loves him and thank him for that. I’d want to ask him why Tolkien felt the need to complicate things that were really quite simple…
1. Karl Urban – Actually, I don’t really want to meet the actor Karl Urban, but I want to meet every single character he has portrayed in the last 20 years and talk to them, especially Eomer, Dr. McCoy, Cupid, Caesar and Reaper, among others. I don’t really want to meet the Russian in Borne #2, but I would like him to speak to me in a Russian accent. Did I mention my husband reminds me of a deafblind Karl Urban? I knew and met Karl when he was just Cupid and I was doing interviews about “Privateers” a pilot by the writer of “Trekkies” that never got picked up. He would have made a great space pirate, but I guess he went onto better things anyway. I love Eomer. I have loved Dr. McCoy since the 80’s when I first saw Trek. I loved Cupid, hated Caesar, but loved Xena, and I loved Reaper in Doom. This isn’t really making any sense, is it? Oh well…
These are the stories that horrify me–not because I am disabled, or because I fear I may be one day (which I well may be) but because my husband is and I love him so deeply that even Romeo and Juliet could not understand. Besides, they were kids. What does a kid know about love? Real love? Love that endures past frustration when your husband can’t understand you because he’s deaf and love that endures past common sense when you realize him walking to the store means that you have to trust every person he walks past or that drives on the street before him, including him. Can they see the angels that help him? Did Romeo ever tell his best friend that Juliet was the best of all women and she would be even if she were a toothless old hag? Did Juliet ever tell her nurse that Romeo would give his blood to gain his last gold coin to buy her a pair of pearl earrings if she had asked for them? They hadn’t lived long enough to grow past passion and into the deepness. Romeo didn’t have to see stretch marks, hear Juliet scream at the kids, or endure her crying during PMS and Juliet never was a NFL widow.
Did Juliet ever think “What happens to him when I am gone?” What if Romeo fell down a shaft and becomes suddenly Stephen Hawking, without the fancy computer? Does someone else decide his life is ‘valuable?’ Does someone pull a Michael Schaivo and end his care because they don’t think he would want to live doing nothing but thinking of how the universe is structured?
This is what I think of.
To people who want to die rather than ever live like Terry Schaivo, get a physicians directive. Do not leave these things to other people and especially not the government. Do not scare the rest of us, who happen to love the disabled people we live with, with the threat of interference by someone who doesn’t love them or by someone who is so compassionate, they want to kill them/you/us.
What if someone, with the tyranny of ‘compassion’ read old journal entries and decided that my husband was not happy living as he is, because I guarantee you they can find ‘evidence’ that he isn’t happy living as a deaf and blind person. But if you looked at my old journal entries, you could find evidence that I never wanted to live with another man ever again.
Everyone is so compassionate nowadays. They want to save you from being fat (see my blog on Michelle Obama and happy Fat Hobbits), or sick, or poor, or frustrated, or offended, or in an accident, when the truth is you can’t save anyone from any of these things – not unless you want to completely run their lives, from start to finish, in a bubble of your tyranny. We don’t do it to zoo animals–why do we think it’s right for people? How can you possibly prefer a free range chicken and desire a caged human? We don’t know what’s in a chickens head, but we still ‘know’ it would rather be free. If you starved a chicken to death, you would be subject to fines and law suits. But in Florida, you can starve a woman to death and not even her family can stop you.
This is what scares me.
This is what I fight against.
I will just point out that *I* like kids with Downs, deafblind men and most women with CP and I am willing to pay extra in charity to help them. I would rather you left the disabled alone completely than decide, in your compassionate tyranny, how they would prefer to live. How about just accepting that I prefer them to live?
I fear the compassion that decides what is best for other people instead of letting them choose for themselves, even if they are wrong–or at the very least, erring on the side of life, the possibility that people LIKE to be alive. I won’t point out that Hitler started his eradication campaign with the disabled, or all the Eugenicists that were in American Universities that wanted you to “prove your value to society,” how about you prove YOUR value to ME? You cost me money, you tax me, you decide what I can and can’t have. You don’t love me. You don’t improve my life and you don’t do windows or laundry. You can’t even make me LAUGH. Well that doesn’t work here. Not in this house and by God, if there isn’t somewhere I can go where I can live the way I think is best, with or without laundry, I might even take Newt up on his Moon Colony.
One of Michelle Obama’s pet projects is fighting childhood obesity. I like Michelle Obama, but I don’t like how she and other ‘experts’ continually think they know the reasons for the problems of the poor. Michelle and Barak have never been ‘poor’ as per Government poverty standards. (how many poor American kids are born in Hawaii, do a little globe trotting from Africa to Asia and then end up at Columbia University?)
The President and his wife think Obesity among the poor is caused by food deserts. This is because they live in a world where they have easy access to personal chefs, high end gyms with sitters, high end foods and fat wallets. They don’t have to worry about choosing between a gallon of gas and a gallon of milk or how much they can stuff in their face on their thirty minute lunch break.
The First Couple can afford and have been able to afford to go to theaters with valet parking, caviar and champagne. The parties they attend aren’t potluck. They are places where they try out gold plated truffles (real truffles, mind you, not the chocolate kind). I don’t mind this. I don’t even envy this. They can afford their pleasures and it keeps them away from dollar store candy and theater floors thick with old soda. Lucky people!
What I do mind is them trying to take the pleasures that poor people can afford – those chocolate truffles I was talking about – because it makes us FAT.
We don’t get to go out every night and hang with Snoop Dogg or Beyonce. What we can do is watch washed-up singers like Marie Osmond on Dancing with the Stars while we eat our frozen pizza. We go to Dollar Tree and stash boxes of Nerds and Milk Duds in our purse or diaper bag because we can’t afford to pay theater snack bar prices after shelling out 7.50 a pop for the family at matinee. We use whipped cream on jello because it’s too expensive to waste on sex (because as evidenced by birth rates among the poor we have way more than the rich and we don’t even pay for it). Those are the pleasures POOR people can afford.
It wasn’t long ago that smoking was one of the pleasures of the poor. Will Smith can still afford his cigars. Most actors and even the President can have their little vice but that was also regulated and taxed out of the realm of the poor’s expense by do gooders trying to save us from ourselves (because even after all the surgeon generals warnings, the poor were still smoking!). And they are trying to do the same thing with Happy Meals. A mom and dad who have been working all day and don’t want to slave over a hot stove or deal with kids that have more energy than parents. Parents (even stay at home moms) are glad for the cheap fast food. The trendy toy is just the bonus that makes a parent a hero and allows them to say: you just got a toy at McDonalds the next time they have to lug a kid along. Besides, doesn’t the play place time more than make up for the extra calories?
Parents like you and I know we were never going to get the kids to eat that vegetable lasagna anyway. Why should they? They can just eat the pink slime burgers they get for free at school. It’s not like they will starve. And you know what? That’s kinda the problem…
All I am saying is that experts should just stop doing these ‘food desert’ studies. I know why poor people are fat: Because we can afford to be. We can’t pay for a gym membership, but we can buy a box of Twinkies. We can’t afford a really great therapist and non generic Zoloft… but we can afford Crunch and Munch. And as a generic substitute for anti depressants, Ding Dongs aren’t that bad! The side effects from chocolate covered sweet cakes very rarely include death.
We are fat and happy, like hobbits. And like hobbits we will probably have to save your ass and the entire world soon because your experts are great at talking and postulating but they’re absolute crap on execution and action. So just leave us be and pass the Oreos.