Showing posts with label help. Show all posts
Showing posts with label help. Show all posts

Monday, December 13, 2010

11 and 11/12s

I'm not sure what happened, but in the last few days I've been pleasantly surprised at the capabilities of the girl child. On Friday, she spent 1.5 hours folding household laundry. On Saturday, she got annoyed at me and just to spite me, she cleaned the whole kitchen. Then this morning (and without being angry at me), she did 90% of the shoveling -- moving crunchy, icy snow in bitter temps. In my current world, I don't feel terribly well supported and my reserves are running very low after a particularly stressful term. Kid help is most welcome. Kid help that is not coerced is priceless.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Recruiting help

There have been some projects building up around here for awhile that need some attention and, for one reason or another, I could use some help.

1. Upholstery. I have two of these chairs and they both look like this. I've reupholstered dining room chair seats that only require one to stretch the fabric across the seat and then staple gun it on the back. These chairs, however, have tacks around the edges and more serious corners and I have no idea what I'm doing.







2. A garden. Despite my usual proclamations that I grow nothing but grass, I would like to put in a food-producing garden this year and this is my sunny spot. The problem is that this very overgrown bed is also where I picked up poison ivy two summers ago. Apparently, I am very allergic to poison ivy. Since the oil remains on the plant even after it goes dormant, I basically just abandoned this bed. It is time to reclaim it, but I'm hesitant (er, terrified?) to deal with the poison ivy (yes, it was that bad... two emergency room visits and over a month to heal).





3. Sand. My dad built this large sandbox the first full summer we lived in this house (2002). I borrowed a friend's little pick up and had it loaded with an obnoxious amount of sand. The truck was barely up to the job, but we managed to get the box filled. Seven years later, however, the box is badly in need of a refill, only my friend sold his truck.



4. Lawnmower. Someone who shall remain nameless tried to mow huge piles of leaves last fall and the fuel line now seems to be clogged. I've changed the oil, replaced the spark plug, had the blade sharpened, and changed the air filter on this mower, but I've never messed with fuel-y bits other than to refill the tank.


Anyone wanna help? We can make it a party. So, what can I do for you?

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

"And Some Kind of Help..."

“And Some Kind of Help, Is the Kind of Help, that Helping’s All About”

I loved, loved, loved Free to Be You and Me as a kid (yes, doesn’t that just explain so much?). One of the more prominent themes in it is that we should get past our stereotypes and rampant individualism enough to help each other out. But do we?

Over the last few months, many of the people in my immediate circles (myself included) have needed help – help with jobs, help with houses, help with mental health, help with transportation, etc. Watching this, I’ve been struck by how hard it has been for folks (again, myself included) to actually ask for help. We seem to assume that we shouldn’t ask, that we should do for ourselves, and, maybe, that our friends won’t want to pitch in.

But what I have witnessed is that people will do for each other. What keeps us from asking is our own fear that we are “imposing” or asking “too much.” It isn’t that big a deal for me to watch other people’s kids, yet I seem to think it is a huge deal for them to watch mine. I’ll toddle over to help a friend move some furniture, but I won’t call for help when I need some moral support after my garbage disposal has exploded.

With my most recent household project, however, I did put out a minor call for help and I got plenty. The job of stripping wallpaper seemed overwhelming to me – I was responsible for how long the kitchen was off-line, I had to choose the paint color, etc. – but, really, it was not that big a deal for those who helped – a few hours of their time but hours that included socializing, food, and beer.

All of this only reinforces my desire for a “compound” – a group of folks all living in close proximity who function more like family (in other words, people to whom you feel mutual responsibility) than merely “friends” or “neighbors” who are either physically not around when you need them or are around but only by accident rather than by design. I want people to whom I can go for help without a second thought. I do want my own space, mind you, but I would also be delighted to come home and find S or S or A or A or several other people drinking coffee in my (our?) kitchen. I would love for my kids to have 4 or 5 houses whose back doors were always open to them. I would love to go to the store for milk and buy for 15 people instead of 4. I would love to know that as I’m wrangling with all the sucky decisions that come with being a grown-up there is not just one person invested in my thought processes, but many. We seem to too often make things more complicated than they need to be. Why does every house on my block have a lawn mower? Why can’t I go out while my children are sleeping even though there are adults at home 10’ away from their bedroom window (but in a different house)? Why do I have to figure things out all on my own?

Admittedly, I’m a bit stuck on how to move out of my nuclear family, 1950s brick ranch house existence to this other model, but my want is real, it is on-going, it is large…