The Hand that Rocks the Cradle...

I saw a documentary recently called Emmanuel's Gift. This guy Emmanuel Ofosu Yeboah is from Ghana. He was born with a deformed leg. In his society, a disability is often looked upon as a punishment for something one of the parents did wrong. Many people just drop babies off somewhere to die. Sounds so cruel, I just can't fathom it, but in any case, Emmanuel's mom resisted other people's advice to do away with him, even though his father couldn't cope and left his family. She took him to every doctor possible to see if anything could be done for him. She was not able to find anyone who could help him, so she just did her best to work and put him in school and helped him to learn to do everything. He always found a way around any obstacle, and she insisted that he never beg, which is what most all disabled people were expected to do. She raised him to believe in and have pride in himself and to stand up for himself. At a very young age she became quite sick and finally died when she was only 37. On her deathbed she encouraged Emmanuel one last time to live a good life. He went on to be a pioneer for change in Ghana. He petitioned a foundation for funds to purchase a bicycle to ride across the whole country of Ghana to show people that disabled people were capable of many things. He created quite a phenomenon and many disabled people have been helped through his work, and perceptions are changing. The way he talks about his mother in this documentary and the things she instilled in him are impressive, as is he. Comfort Yeboah may have lived in poverty for 37 short years, and died unknown but she made a huge impact on the world by the way she raised her son. What a tribute to the great job of mom!

FAMILY HEIRLOOMS

EXHIBIT A : PROOF THAT GUARDIAN ANGELS REALLY DO EXIST

We still own this knife, mutilated in September 2003, to hand down to our posterity. It commemorates son Gigio's first day of Kindergarten. For those who didn't get my e-mails back then, it went something like this...

We came home from school to find Enigma with the babies covered in joint compound; Papi had just fixed a hole in the wall in my room before he left and while Enigma was trying to get the kids next door to quit ringing our doorbell, the babies attacked it. So I set out to clean up the babies, then everywhere they had slimed, then their clothes and lastly to try to fix the hole again. I didn’t do as good a job as Papi, but while everyone attacked me again I did my best and all that only took about 2 hours. After initially displacing his aggression on everyone in the house over his first day of school and threatening to pack up and leave us, Gigio settled down. Then while I fed the babies, Carino the gypsy flew the coop again. A kind neighbor called us and then came behind him with his trike which he had left behind. Finally I got the babies to sleep and got to work on dinner after several interruptions from the remaining 3 kids, so by the time the babies woke and started wailing I was almost done. Then finally they left the kitchen and quieted. I was wondering what had captivated their interest when Thing 1 showed up in the kitchen “talking” and gesturing towards my room, obviously accusing his brother, whom I found eating the patch job off the wall; Enigma left the door open to my room again. SO we cleaned up and got to the table, and after making sure there was nothing toxic in the drywall, I got them to eat real food while I got more practice at patching walls. Then after dinner the boys went downstairs to “play” while I supervised my eldest in her reading, and after 15 minutes of that agony, Carino shows up with a spikey hairdo that smelled fruity, something like some go-gurt we had on hand. Soon after Gigio followed and confirmed that it was indeed yogurt, so after getting both Gigio and Enigma to read, I gave Carino and the babies ANOTHER bath. Then when I sent Carino down to bed, he says he can’t, there’s yogurt on his bed. Silly me, why did I think it was all on his head?? Wishful thinking?? Then I saw the room, which looked like someone had blown up a balloon filled with yogurt in there, it was splashed all over everything. Then as my alter ego, the witchy mom took over and bawled them out, the angel on my shoulder reminded me I didn’t want to really strangle them; should I break down and cry? No, that’s what Gigio wants, to get me back for being so mean, at least that’s his excuse for his messes lately. As I’m yelling and contemplating what to do about this, I notice the night light, with not only yogurt but a black charred looking area around it. Next Enigma came to see what the hullaballoo was all about, all the while secretly hoping I would switch over to the dark side and eliminate her brothers. I start telling her that they must have gotten yogurt between the outlet and the light, and from the looks of things set off a flame, which Gigio refuted, saying they were just sparks at which point I decide to start lecturing on the properties of electricity. That's when Thing 2 walks up with Exhibit A in his hand. All I can say is I thank the Lord above that I still have a house and live children. For some strange reason, the boys had gotten the idea to stick the knife between the socket and the night light. Maybe to clean up the yogurt? I start telling them they could have been electrocuted. Gigio says, "No, Mom, it didn't, it just went, BZZZZZZ! (shaking hand motion with this)" So there you have it. I believe it is impossible to really hurt yourself with 110 volts. Good thing we're in the USA! The boys got grounded from the basement for 2 days and had to sleep with blankets on the hard floor upstairs. They also got grounded from yogurt until they are old enough to buy it themselves.

P.S. the sequel is here now...