(You know what? I just noticed the little screw hole by Jacob’s neck.* Could it be that the door is switchable on this washer? I’ve looked at it before without noticing the screw holes. Flopping the door would be so handy because the dryer is necessarily against the outside wall and in order to load it, we have to move clothes over the top of the washer door. This is inefficient, and in labor, inefficient = bad. I’ll check it when I get home. Oh never mind; our washer is on the fritz. Hopefully it’s not dead; it’s done well for approximately 8 years at 12 loads a week. [about 5000 loads!])

We’re believers in making kids work. Not only can we not do everything ourselves, but this will make their future lives so much easier. Learn to do the stuff you have to do, and learn to enjoy it whenever possible. Also, kids, learn to enjoy doing all the work while mom and dad are lounging around eating Bon-Bons. They’ll appreciate it.

–Just so’s ya know, if Jess and I ever did actually lounge around we’d immediately fall asleep. And I haven’t had a Bon-Bon since I was a missionary in Argentina (are those real Bon-Bons?)

*Note: Please do NOT notice that Jacob is wearing a necklace. This is a direct result of having six older sisters (we hope).

Long, long ago when I was considering trading in my old Camry for a four-wheel-drive something or other, I wondered if I should buy an old pickup truck. For various reasons, I opted not to; and though I’m glad we have the Jeep, we’ve had to make do occasionally. For example, when we built our house we fit much of it inside the Jeep and BGF. Sheet lumber, closet doors, cinder blocks, you name it.

Last fall (sheesh, has it been that long already) I was driving to work when I saw a trailer for sale just outside of town. It was older, looked home made, and had a slightly disheveled air about it; but the tires were in great shape and it was decent size (5’ x 12’, with 2’ high sideboards—enough to hold a cord of wood). Besides, we would only use it about eight times a year: six cords from the hills, and a trip each in spring and fall for manure. I called the owner and asked what he wanted for it; when his asking price was only a quarter of what I expected, I stifled a gasp and said I’d take it.

I spent the next year (!) trying to get a hitch for it. Here’s a hint: Don’t buy a Reese Towpower Class III hitch and expect their hardware will fit your 2002 Jeep Liberty. It won’t, no matter what they tell you. I ended up buying a brand new hitch and getting my hardware from the co-op in town, and it works like a charm. And now we can use the trailer.

A couple of weeks ago I took a couple of kids up the road for a load of wood. Our gravel road turns into Forest Service Road 203 less than a mile away, and our backyard (not counting the freeway corridor 50 miles south of here) contains thousands of square miles of national forest and public land. That’s pretty handy to have behind your house. We have enough firewood for this year, I think, but the leaves are already starting to turn, and I think any extra wood would be a good thing. We didn’t even make it all the way up to our huckleberry patch before I saw a whole congregation of downed trees off the right side of the road. I whipped out my trusty chain saw and, three hours later, we came grinding back down the hill in low-low gear with a six-week supply of wood (about 1 cord). Katie rode all the way down on top of the woodpile, bouncing like a spring when we went over bumps. Becca hopped out at the bottom of the driveway, asking if she could ride up on the top of the Jeep. Sure, why not? It took about a 27-point turn to get the whole kit-n-kaboodle turned around at the top of the driveway, but we finally got it aimed right and the kids and I emptied the trailer out. Now all the wood you see here is split and stacked up back by the propane tank, doing its best to dry out in the temperamental fall weather. It may not get used this year; if not, it’ll sleep under tarps and snow all winter, awaiting its turn to spill its sunshine into our warm home.

Our three oldest doing what they thought was Mom's job. Many hands make light work.

Jess and I are super-hyper-overachievers, and with the first half-dozen of our children we thought we could handle it all while our children sat around reading The Lightning Thief (where does he keep the lightning once he’s stolen it, by the bye?) or Harry Potter for the 17th time.

But with seven children, we can’t do that any more. And we won’t! Bwa ha ha ha haaaa!

Emma’s assignment this afternoon is to fix the legs of the stool in my studio. Becca’s assignment is to key in the names of selected art galleries whom I’ll pester with my art. Katie helped me with the Jeep’s tires this morning, so she’s off the hook except for her regular chores. Abby’s assignment is to find another piano piece to play at our family piano recital in May. Go go go!

Actually the kids are really fantastic about helping. They have their chores to complete every day, and they do about as well as I did when I was their age—and I was a pretty conscientious kid.

But there’s enough work around here that it’s time to step up a little bit. They want to; Emma asked to learn how to start a fire, and she’s been doing it every weekday morning for the last two weeks. (She does pretty well, too). Becca and Katie are fantastic helpers with the younger kids. One evening last week Jess and I were sitting at the table talking after dinner while the kids were running around breaking stuff. Jess and I like to talk, and we don’t get much chance to do it. So I said,

“Emma, Becca, Katie, come.”

They came. They’re good at coming when called, mostly.

“Please load and start the dishwasher and wash all the dishes. You may finish when the kitchen’s clean.”

And they did! And it looked like they had a pretty good time. And Jess and I enjoyed the chance to talk for a little while.

So I think I do this again. Soon. Regularly.

What do you think? How do you help your kids pitch in around the house?

I was so proud of the work I got done this sunny Saturday (to be duly noted in coming days), and so proud that I had all that wood dried out and ready to go, and so proud of my kids’ hard work loading up the old woodshed, that I didn’t notice their woodpile starting to lean out of the shed.

I sent the kids in to relax after their hard work, and stayed out to finish fastening out the roof on the new woodshed. I walked past the woodpile ten minutes later and noticed it seemed to be leaning. I went in and pounded the wood in with a block of wood, and it slid back pretty well. I went back to my work, and happened by a few minutes later. The wood was sagging again; and not just the front row but those behind it. I pounded them in again, and they shifted back obediently, the same distance they had gone before. Hmm. I propped some sticks under the stack and kept and eye on it. Sure enough, a few minutes later it had crept forward again.

Yuck.

I had two choices: let the pile come down when it would, while I propped up boards to protect the wall and propane inlet to the house; or pull the pile down now in a controlled demolition. I opted for the latter. Then, because the clouds were moving in, I pulled a tarp over the mess.

We’ll take care of it later.

I know exactly what went wrong, and thought I’d instructed the kids thoroughly on how to stack wood to keep each row leaning back against its brethren. But when we pull this stuff out, more will fall; so it will be the labor of several hours. Well, maybe when we’re done they’ll have learned something about stacking wood, and I’ll have learned something about teaching kids.