Monthly Archives: August 2007

Today I Will Prime.

Today I Will Prime.

Yesterday, hubby and I tackled the bedroom, moving enough stuff out so two walls are clear to paint, nailing in the mouldings, pulling out picture nails and hangers, and spackling and caulking. Today I’ll tape the rug by the trim, sand the spackle, and prime the trim and patches. That’s it. Tomorrow I’ll paint the two walls.

Doing it bit by bit will prolong the agony of having a bedroom in disarray, but it’s more realistic and will give me time for other things that aren’t painting. That’s a good thing.

I have to avoid messing up the horrible wall-to-wall any more than it already is, because we figured out how much it will cost to put in laminate flooring. Ouch. Before we do that, I need to find a reliable paving person. So far, we’ve had one mason who scheduled and broke two appointments and never called again, one who’s supposed to be doing work for the next-door neighbors who hasn’t shown up for them, another who cancelled and rescheduled, then didn’t show up for the second appointment and didn’t call, and a landscaper who rescheduled three times before he stopped returning our phone calls. This is nuts. At this rate, I’d better learn how to pour concrete myself. Before we get a new bedroom floor, we really need a safe front walkway. Getting a reliable masonry person around here, though, is harder than getting anything else we’ve tried so far.

Poor Tired Children.

Poor Tired Children.

Audrey had a sleepover Friday, which means she didn’t sleep. Yesterday she was invited out to dinner with a friend’s family, still not having slept, and didn’t get home until midnight. I just had to wake her up so she can go to a band rehearsal for her section. Tomorrow, band camp starts at 8AM, ends at 4PM, and regular rehearsal is from 6PM to 9. Poor baby. I have a feeling she’ll fall asleep after she gets back today and miss dinner, and I still won’t be able to rouse her in the morning. It’s all good, though. She’s having fun, making friends, and will remember that part of it all many, many years from now.

The Duggars’ Quiverfull

The Duggars’ Quiverfull

Here’s an interesting take on the news photo of Duggar baby number seventeen I think that this attitude of creating as many children for god is pretty reprehensible, no matter which god is mandating the excessive reproduction. Partly because of the nominalization of women to a single role, and the indoctrination of their children into a gender-determined future regardless of their strengths and interests. (However, I do laugh, darkly, when I see the phrases “It’s a vagina, not a clown car” or “It’s a vagina, not a Pez dispenser”.) Partly because of the religious aspect, the blind obedience to a set of laws made by primitive people – and in this case, especially since the Quiverfull movement is “raising an army for god”, and is loosely structured enough that most Quiverfull families do not have the means or the community support to provide food, shelter, and clothing for all their brood the way the Duggars seem to be able to. If you read the comments after the entry, a lot of people are focused on the environmental impact, or on the birthing of multiple babies while there are so many children awaiting adoption. These are valid, too, but I think they miss the point that I feel is the most important.

These children are part of such a large group that they will never know what it’s like to have a parent’s undivided attention, to be encouraged to pursue their dreams and to hone their special skills. In fact, they will never know what it’s like to be truly special because of who they are. They will learn that they are special only in that they were produced to fulfill the edict of the invisible man in the sky – they are special in that they are a religious commodity. The praise they might get in a smaller family for their musical or artistic talent, their mathematical aptitude, the robot they made all by themselves, their role in the school play, the gift they have for chemistry, will mean nothing. It will pale by comparison (if it is acknowledged at all, since they’re being homeschooled in their religious tradition, all at once, by mom) to the girls’ accomplishments in housewifery, and the boys’ knowledge of scripture, and the alacrity with which they continue the family tradition of poppin’ out them puppies.

We hear talk about “throwaway children” all the time – they’re growing up poor, uncared for, eking out an existence on public support. The Duggars benefit from donations from private sources, have money from their Discovery Channel show, live in a large house, pay no taxes on property since daddy Jim Bob delcared their house a church, but these kids are “throwaways” too, just in a different way.