Chainsaw Lessons on the 4th of July

James asks to learn how to use a chainsaw. 

Erin has a half-dead tree in her yard. 

Perfect.

Yesterday afternoon, we had an impromptu landscaping party at Erin's house. I brought Nova. Bobby and James worked on the tree, Erin and I watched from the driveway in camp chairs. The dogs hung out, panting. It was a hot afternoon, but there was a nice breeze. 

Nova and Ruby "chillin'" in the car. I think Nova was telling me she was ready to go home.

This was the thickest limb.

Hauling, hauling, hauling.

Chucking a log onto the pile.

Matthew called me at some point asking where I was (did I forget to tell him??) and hung up once he heard we were all hanging out at Erin's house. 15 minutes later, I see him running up the sidewalk, barefoot, in pajamas. He ran the whole way over, half a mile, just to be part of the fun. He didn't do it out of anxiety. He wasn't the slightest bit anxious or stressed about making that trip on his own. He was thrilled, actually. His anxiety is like a light switch. When it's on, everything is bad. When it's off, nothing phases him. It's hard to address something so seemingly random.

That morning, I had gone with the Prairie Cycle Club on their annual 4th of July Perimeter Ride. It was the longest ride I'd done in months. 37 miles. It would have been a whole lot harder if I hadn't met K. She's a long-term club member and a seriously active 60-year-old. We have the exact same bike! She's a natural talker, thankfully, so she was using a lot of air to chat, which made it easier for me to keep up with her. I learned a lot about her and her passions. She gave me some research to look up on low-carb eating. I was fascinated by how much a change in diet improved her own health and the health of her family members suffering from similar chronic conditions. Just plain awesome. I've heard similar testimonials from friends who went vegan, dairy-free, or gluten-free for a variety of reasons. I am thoroughly convinced that one eating pattern does not fit all. 

We talked about food addiction, too. I'm pretty sure I'm in that boat. Gotta read up on that. 

I've got a lot to read up on, actually. This winter, I'm going with Rachel on a 4-day cruise to Mexico. She's an avid reader, and this cruise is something of a conference with several authors she enjoys. She sent me a reading list. I like what I've read so far! There's so much more to go. We will also be making a couple 50-mile rides on this trip ;) Rachel can be pretty darn efficient.

Swimming!

This summer, a friend from church has invited our family to use their backyard pool. It's large, shaded, heated, and quiet. James and Matthew spend hours in it just about every other day. Thursday, it was a new record of 4 hours. What I love best about this is 1) how well the boys play together, 2) the physical activity away from screens, 3) seeing Matthew finally gain confidence in the water, and 4) the time for me to work quietly on other things poolside.

Recurring Dream

Over the last few months, I've had a recurring dream that causes me to wake up angry and sad and frustrated. It involves James. 

In the dream, I'm doing something with the family. It's been a variety of things, so I don't think the activity itself is important. The family members present also vary, except for James. Somehow, in the dream, I'm asking him to stop doing something. He doesn't stop. It's not that he doesn't hear me, he's choosing to ignore me. I get more insistent. Then louder. He keeps going. I get more and more frantic until I'm screaming and crying, commanding him to stop with everything I've got. It doesn't make a difference. I wake up furious and beaten. 

What the heck?!

I don't feel this way about James in real life. Not even close. Sure, he's the kid most likely to push his brothers' buttons a little longer than I want him to. Yes, he does a lot of things before asking if he can do them. And, of course, he's just plain growing up and exploring independence. None of this bothers me to the point of screaming out of control. Or screaming at all.

Also, James is one of the most sensitive of my kids when it comes to correction. He's not rebellious. Maybe a little bit of a rascal, but he takes correction very, very seriously. If I ever get so upset that I raise my voice to him, he crumples instantly and we need to talk through it thoroughly before bouncing back.

I'm recording this here now in case I have a different/clearer perspective of it later on in life. 

Hill Cart

Now that James is comfortable using power tools, he can build pretty much anything he can think of. Last Fall/Spring, it was an enormous garden box and a variety of weapons. 

James' garden box this morning totally loaded with potato plants, sunflowers, and a cedar tree. Yesterday, he also planted walking onions in there somewhere.

James' wall display of all the sharp and pointy things he created from whatever materials I would let him use.

This summer, it's a hill cart.

No steering.

No brakes.

Just you, a hill, and gravity.

He used a 55 gallon drum, four dolly wheels, an assortment of plywood, PVC, metal tubing, couch cushions, ratty towels, a pool noodle, and about a million screws. I think a few of those screws ended up in our van tires, but the mechanics didn't save them long enough for me to do the forensics.

This cart has been a lot of work. James had to figure things out from scratch at every step. He had in mind what he wanted to, assessed the materials on-hand, figured out which tools he needed to accomplish the task, and did it. Minimal input from any of us. I can't tell you how much thought and sweat labor went into each component. Seriously, folks, I'm crazy proud of this kid.

We took it to Colbert Park this week, to the tallest, longest hill for miles around. It's a man-made hill designed for sledding and it took more than one of us to get the cart to the top.

Safety first! Here's James at the top, about to take his first ride.

The first run was an incredible success. It was a smooth and terrifying ride. The cart veered strongly to the left, which, on a steep hill, would normally mean a rollover, but James had designed the cart with a wide wheel base for just such occasions (we had learned a few things from the St. Anthony sand dunes). He was thrilled! We all were. Matthew took a ride, too, screaming and laughing all the way. Then James decided to try the "bumpy" side of the hill. It's built a little like amphitheater seating with regular stair-step formations. He went really fast and ended up veering so far left that he turned onto the steepest, steepest, crazy steepest part of the hill, which only made him go faster and farther. Scary AND hilarious.

I said to James, "This would make a great picture way up here with the land, sky, and clouds! I want you in it." *click* Um...thanks. 

Both boys were exhausted after two runs each (it's a really steep hill, and the cart isn't light). We loaded up the cart and drove home theorizing how to address the veering problem. James got a few ideas. He spent hours in the garage the next day tweaking things. Every test run down the driveway proved that he hadn't solved the problem yet. He got pretty frustrated. Grouchy. Angry. Then he'd get another idea and try again.

Just the other night, after several sweaty hours in the garage working with power tools, when he felt he had FINALLY got it all figured out, he asked me to watch the test run. Turns out, he still hadn't fixed the problem. It was just as bad as it ever was. Like he had done NOTHING. He was incredibly disappointed. As I pushed the cart back into the garage, he saw something he hadn't seen before. Suddenly, he knew what to do next! We chatted about it and decided this was the next thing to try. We didn't talk specifics, though, about how to accomplish that change. When he asked where the level was, I furrowed my brow. I wouldn't use a level. I would use a square (a large, L-shaped ruler). I pulled out the square and showed him the geometry and marked the cart with a Sharpie showing him how to align things just so. I stood up and looked at him with an excited smile and asked, "Does that make sense? See how to do it?" With the level still in his hands, and a look of mischief, he said, "Mom, let me do this my way." 

"But the level won't work because..."

He playfully whacked me with the level and said, "Let me do it my way." Then he shooed me out of the garage with the level saying, "And if it fails, I'll be sad for 20 minutes, and then I'll figure out another way to fix it!"

Ten minutes later, he stomped into the house with a sour expression on his face and wouldn't tell me why. He wasn't out there long enough to make the fix he was planning. I'm guessing something else went wrong in the process. Such is life on this planet!

This kid. Sheesh. Just the other day, as we drove past Art Mart, James said that all the kids in his class loved that store. It's kind of a weird, hoity-toity international grocery store and pricey art/clothing/toy store. I asked him why they liked it. He said with a shrug, "Because the other kids like it." I burst out laughing, "Holy moly, that is the essence of Junior High! I can't believe you saw that." Give this kid a gold star. 

Well, the cart is still a work in progress. I asked James if maybe he would be okay with it just the way it is. It's a great ride! He said no. It would bother him too much. In the meantime, he'll keep at it and we'll keep heading to the hardware store (our favorite outing together!). We took Nova to the hardware store with us last time. She wore her "therapy dog in training" vest. She did a great job!! 

I'll have to tell you later about her surgery, but I'll leave you with this photo of her and James. She's been on sedatives post-op to keep her from accidentally tearing out her stitches. The kids have looooooved this extra sleepy, extra tolerant version of Nova: