Lessons in (power) tools

I have undertaken yet another remodel project on our house. My husband has long ago learned not to ask questions and just trust the (my) process. It is safer for him that way.

But this time, the children are both pretty curious about the project. We spent the weekend installing plywood, trim, caulking and roof vent, measuring and cutting and using power tools to slowly revamp an unfinished room in the house to be usable space.

I am an obsessive DIY’er – I consume every YouTube video related to a project, agonizing over the smallest details, and taking far too long to finish such projects because I need it to be just right.

My 7-year-old daughter learned the names of common hand tools, enough to pass me repetitive requests throughout the day while I was on the ladder. And my 11-year-old son got to run the drill, the stud-finder and the brad nailer (all while insisting on calling it the “puncture drill”). I didn’t disparage him his joke, mostly because I think he was calling it that because I initially tried to correct his terminology. Now it will forever be christened the “puncture drill.” I will laugh about that for the rest of my life. I did, however, draw the line at letting him run the circular saw. Maybe in a couple of years.

The point of this story is that they are growing up. My daughter has perfected the eyeroll with profound execution. My son will be taller than me in a year or two.

But before they grow up and fly the nest, by God, I will teach them how to take care of themselves in this world, or at least how to make basic household repairs without becoming intimidated or letting someone tell them they cannot.

In our world of instant gratification, next-day order deliveries and services on speed dial, being able to turn a wrench, read a tape measure, or know what quarter-round molding is, might just become a rare commodity as they navigate into adulthood.

Why don’t they have shop class in high school anymore? I imagine the liability of power tools around teenagers became too great at some point, but what has mine and younger generations lost when we no longer were required to work with our hands?

Disposable incomes meant that the broken lawnmower was simply replaced with a newer model, readily available of course, rather than painstakingly repaired out of financial necessity. Does instant gratification of having a new shiny fridge that emails us when our milk is running low, feel better than the personal satisfaction of diagnosing the problem, researching a solution and fixing the old fridge (especially for 1/100th of the cost and an hour of our time)?

A sense of pride. Maybe we are too busy living in our fast-paced lives, to really take the time to appreciate our own accomplishments. Building something with our hands has become a rare thing and we’ve forgotten how to celebrate ourselves with small accomplishments that used to be routine and necessary. Instead, we delegate tasks we view to be menial, like painting a room, to tradesmen that many consider to be beneath them. And yet, AI may replace you or may replace me, but I guarantee AI won’t be replacing that plumber or that painter or that electrician that many people look down their noses at.

So, when my children and I finish this project, we can step back and look at what most people would view as simply a newly-painted room, with pride. Not just in the menial task of finishing it, but for me, in the pride of passing down a dying art to my children, so that they can know what building something – from planning, to researching, to execution, to completion – really feels like.

I hope they are emboldened by a sense of accomplishment to reject instant (and expensive) gratification and seek knowledge in the research and the repair. Today, however, I wallow in the pride that is the “puncture drill,” and consider it a profound win. 

Shawna Pfeiffer is a life-long Dona Ana County Resident, graduate of NMSU, small business owner, hobby farmer, dog-lover, outdoor enthusiast and mother to two young children. She can be reached at srpfeiffer1@gmail.com.