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Lindsay Metcalf
on Jun 19 2013 - 06:00 AM
My top five most important moments of the summer so far
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mara williams
on Jun 18 2013 - 06:00 AM
Hey, manchild, mama says: clean your room, wash the dishes, don't drink and drive.
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Emily Parnell
on Jun 16 2013 - 06:00 AM
Eating fresh, local produce is good for body and soul
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Jim Cosgrove
on Jun 13 2013 - 06:00 AM
I just want to buy some pants. Please, turn down the music.
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As each of my boys entered first grade I signed them up for cub scouts. My single mom mind said this would be the perfect place for them to learn how to do all of the manly things that I wasn’t going to be able to teach them. Sure, I nail pictures to walls and hook up VCR’s and TV’s, but I know there is so much more. What I didn’t know until the orientation was that I had to work hand in hand with my child in his den the first year in scouting. Then after that year, parental guilt mixed in with “What errand can I possibly accomplish in an hour, I might as well help!” kept me coming as a support to my sons plus becoming an assistant den leader. Darned inability to say no! Oh well, I liked it. We camped and boy, I do love camping! Just don’t ask me to start a fire! The one thing though that I really had a hard time with is woodworking. These two hands do not possess any skills what so ever when it comes to carpentry.
When the boys were younger they made birdhouses. You would think that would be easy, right? I had to help the youngest with a little wren house and we had to take it apart once because we didn’t get pieces assembled quite right. This is where Murphy’s Law steps in, as we didn’t really know until we got to the very last board. Why can’t you figure it out on the second or third piece? Thankfully, when his older brother made his bluebird house I was an assistant den leader in his brother’s den and another, much more experience adult helped him.
Fast forward to Bear Camp and yet again we were faced with another carpentry project. This time a tool box with a handy carrying handle. Thankfully all pieces are precut. Looks pretty simple and I think I am broken in and can call myself a seasoned carpenter. I guess I am lucky there are some very experienced dads out that are willing to take pity upon me and stop us from having a tool box making disaster. At least my poor son didn’t have to take the whole thing apart, only halfway. I sheepishly asked for help and advice. Again.
My youngest son graduated to first year Webelos and had to make his prerequisite bluebird house this year. I however have not graduated. Poor kid, he is stuck with my “You want me to make what with that piece of wood?” attitude. Why can’t they ask him to type a story? Answer the phone? Alphabetize, file and report five days worth of work? Heck, even whip up a dinner for 10 people with only an hour’s notice? These are my kind of skills. No, I am stuck again with trying to help him make a bluebird house. This time, no precut pieces. There is an actual table saw and we actually have to measure and mark the wood. Did I mention that not only am I not a carpenter but I am also not a mathematician? Yikes, my poor son, I wonder sometimes if there is “rent-a-dad” service available for these types of situations. Instead, while we cut, drill and piece wood together and then take it all apart to start over, we are getting quality, mom and son bonding time. I can live with that. Inside I am glad that he isn’t old enough yet to be terribly embarrassed by his mother’s iniquities.
Just last week I took my oldest son to make his camp box. I am more of an observer now, since the leaders really want the boys to do most of the project themselves. They are building their confidence and gaining independence. I participate by holding wood pieces together while he uses a nail gun to fasten them together. I wince every time he uses the gun, as every time it shoots a nail the residual puff of air flies into my eyes. The jumpy, nervous mom that I am, makes glances to make sure he is wearing his goggles. I try not to hover as he uses a band saw yet I am cringing inside, praying that we can make it through the evening with no blood and the accompanying emergency room visit that would come with it. Success!
His camp box is forming and pretty soon he will put his name on it and will pack it for his first ten day camping trip. He, along with his brother, is learning that mom is there to help if he needs but he can do more and more on his own. Have I graduated to carpenter? No and I really don’t even want to. There are just some things that I would rather do and frankly, inhaling sawdust is not one of them. Will I lend a hand when little brother makes his camp box next year, cringing when he uses the saws and nail gun? You bet, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Then I will go home and make a batch of brownies to celebrate because my “Pretend I can be a carpenter” duties will be complete!
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