"Fail, Mom."

This is Ben's newest way of trying to sound like a 9-year-old teenager. I'll admit it's not my favourite saying, seeing as he uses it whenever I drop, forget, lose or trip over something. However, we have discussed these two little words, and his use of them, and he seems to be learning the fine art of timing.
Two days ago, for example, Ben could have said, "Fail, Mom" to me and I could not have uttered a single legitimate word of protest. It was Valentine's Day. I was supply teaching in a grade 3 classroom here in town - a "challenging" classroom, as we teachers like to say. It was a CRAZY day ... my head was swimming, trying to keep track of my kids' chauffeuring needs, our desperate need for groceries, Ben's hockey skates waiting to be picked up from their sharpening appointment before that night's practice, the candlelit Valentine's dinner I had decided to whip up for my family (without any groceries in the house) and the arrangements I had made for John and my mom to get Ben to the dentist at noon that day to have a tooth extracted and then keep him home for the rest of the day. Add to all these mental gymnastics the chaos of a high flying grade 3 classroom on Valentine's Day - translation: school sanctioned sugar high - and you will understand my state of distraction. My moment of "failure" hit me halfway through the Valentine's party I was supervising with these grade 3's. I watched them buzz around the room, happily delivering their grubby little cards and homemade cupcakes .... I smiled to myself as I thought of the fun of being a kid on Valentine's Day ... I thought about my kids, and wondered how they were doing that day. And then I just about keeled over as I realized that I had sent my own little grade 3-er to school that day with absolutely NOTHING for his class Valentine's celebration! Zippo. Zilch. Nadda. Not a Hershey's kiss. Not a card. Not a pink and red pencil. Not even a note for the teacher. Somehow Valentine's Day for Ben had not even made it onto my radar this year!
My only hope and consolation was that he had to leave school before noon for this nasty tooth extraction and so hopefully he would miss the Valentine's party. Unfortunately, I found out later that evening that his teacher held the party in the MORNING. Fortunately, Ben is extremely easygoing and quickly forgave me.
Unfortunately, the next morning he toddled into our room, rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and mumbled, "I think the tooth fairy forgot to check under my pillow last night."
Fail, Mom. (I said to myself.)

The Road of Life

I read the greatest thing the other day, called "The Road of Life." It reminded me of one of the many reasons I love Jesus - He's a great driver!

At first, I saw God as my judge, keeping track of the things I did wrong, so as to know whether I merited heaven or hell when I die. He was out there sort of like a president. I recognized His picture when I saw it, but I really didn't know Him.
Later on, when I met Christ, it seemed as though life was rather like a bike ride, but it was a tandem bike. I noticed that Christ was in the back helping me pedal.
I don't know just when it was that He suggested we change places, but life hasn't been quite the same since then. When I had control, I knew the way. It was rather boring, but predictable... It was the shortest distance between two points. But when He took the lead, He knew delightful long cuts, up mountains, through rocky places at breakneck speeds, it was all I could do to hang on! Even though it looked like madness, He'd lean back and say, "Pedal!"
I worried and was anxious and asked, "Well, where are You taking me?" He laughed and never answered, and I started to learn to trust Him. I forgot my boring life and entered into the adventure. And when I'd say, "I'm scared," then He would lean back and He would touch my hand.
I didn't trust him at first, not in control of my life. I thought He'd wreck it; but He knows bike secrets, He knows how to make it bend and take sharp corners, how to jump to clear high rocks, He knows how to shorten scary passages.
I'm learning to just shut up and pedal. We go to the strangest places together. I'm beginning to enjoy the view and the cool breeze on my face with my delightful companion, Jesus Christ.
And when I'm sure I just can't do anymore, He smiles and says .... "Pedal!"

A Surprise Visitor

I never thought I'd be this kind of woman, but if you had walked in my front door about 20 minutes ago, you would have found me standing on a living room chair, clutching Lulu in my arms and peeking around the corner to see if John had caught the MOUSE that has been burrowing around in my kitchen this week! As I was putting dishes and tea towels away this morning, I opened a drawer and saw a "flash" of grey ... and found nibbled oven mitts and such. Then I opened another drawer a few minutes later and saw a suspiciously similar "flash" of grey in that one as well. EEEK!!! I am not normally this freaked out by mice, but seriously! So I made John come home from work and as he pulled out the second drawer, there in living colour was the culprit, clinging to the back edge of the drawer, tail high in the air, peering around my kitchen. BLAH!! I just about screamed. And then I backed into the dishwasher and almost knocked the rack off the shelf. Then I climbed up onto the aforementioned chair.

John was not enjoying himself either. When he had finally caught the thing with a wooden spoon and a cardboard box, he opened the back door to throw it out (it was climbing up the edge and trying to escape so he had to act fast). But Toby the terrier was sitting right there on the back porch when he opened the door and so John just had to make a mad flip with the box and hope that Toby would be true to his terrier-heritage and go chase it unto its death.

Toby forgot he was a terrier. He usually does. He sat and looked on serenely as Stuart Little turned tail and ran between John's legs straight back into the house and down the stairs to the basement. Where he is now hosting a party and proposing a toast with all his little friends..."To the Hollingsworths. And to Toby the terrier! What wonderful hosts they are!" They are completely unaware of the four sinister mousetraps waiting silently in the laundry room for them.. And the batch of poison sitting in my pots'n'pans cupboard. As well as in the attic. Enjoy your party, little rodent friends. We WILL get the last laugh.