Friday, November 30, 2012

The Mystery of the Tooth Fairy

The tooth fairy.  I don't think I ever narrowed it down to what she looked like. She, yes, I believe she is a she.  Floating clothes, soundless movements, lots and lots of glitter.  Really, she's the only fairy I've really known, but never seen.  And who knows what she does with all of those teeth!  There's no way she would keep them.  Not my fairy.

Little Miss and her big brother entered into their own world of tooth fairy-ness a little over a year ago, and have since lost eight teeth each.  Although I have forgotten most of the details, Little Miss loves the story of how she lost her first tooth.  She will tell anyone who asks.

"It fell out when I bit my brother in the foot," as if that is a regular occurrence in anyone's house.  With her flaming red hair and fiery temper, none of us is surprised that she'd sink her teeth into any part of him.  I've seen it in slow motion at the kitchen table.  She's colouring; he steps in to tell her how it's done; she turns her head, leans forward, and chomps down on his right shoulder.  Normal behaviour, right?

Anyway, her tooth came out.  Do we reward her?  Of course!  Tooth fairies do not care how the tooth came out - they just want the tooth.  And the fact that we were miles away, camping in Quebec, was quite a feat for our friend, the fairy.  I think they had to send a young one.

We discovered so long as you keep the tooth in a sock, under the pillow, the tooth fairy will find it.

Several other teeth in our household have been yanked out, swallowed, or lost.  Although we encouraged the kids to send notes to the tooth fairy explaining the tooth-in-the-belly syndrome, or to watch the toilet for the next few days, the kids weren't interested and let the fairies off the hook.  According to six-year-olds; no tooth, no treats.  It just wasn't legitimate.

There was one morning our little man woke up to find a shiny coin and a box of candy under his pillow, only to see the exact same candy wrapper on the coffee table downstairs.  Mr. Man had suspiciously eaten the same candies that the tooth fairy had delivered the previous night.  I listened to what the kids had to say (after I ran upstairs and gave the him what for).

"Daddy had the same candy you have!" Little Miss had her wheels turning, "How'd that happen?  Should we ask him?"

Her brother was just happy to enjoy his treats and couldn't care less about his father's antics the night before.

"How does the tooth fairy even get the stuff here?" she enquired, eyeing up a few of his candies.

"Oh, some have the tooth fairy deliver it, and sometimes the parents do it," he answered. But he clearly was thinking of another house.  No big deal, was the impression I got.

So by the time Mr. came down to join the show, with his answers to possible candy questions, the two little ones had moved on to something else.

Earlier this week, while eating her loot from her eighth "loss," Little Miss asked me if God was in charge of the tooth fairy.

"Oh, I suppose.  He did make everything.  But I think he leaves her alone to do her job."  At least that's what my fairy would want.

"He should look after her though 'cause rides on a broom,"  she states as she munches away.

"And she looks kind of like a witch, " added her brother.

It could be because we've just come through halloween, but I think these two have a very different version of what their tooth fairy looks like than I did as a kid.  There is no way I would leave my tooth and invite a scary-looking being into my room just for quarters.

But at least in the battle between reality and make believe, they know Who's got a handle on it all.  Just like God calling Santa on the phone, they know He's got the safety of the tooth fairy on His mind, also.

Monday, November 19, 2012

Worry; the Ugly Baby

I have this inherent need to be prepared for the big things in life...natural disasters, medical problems, work issues, emergency situations, and of course, big life changes.  Flashlights at the ready, extra warm blankets on the beds, epi-pens and band-aids, stocked pantry...Mr. Man's cape ironed.  You know, regular emergency stuff.

The moment I became a mother, I swear I gave birth to not only a beautiful babe, but to two other ugly babies: Guilt and Worry.  I had been given such a great responsibility that I Worried I wouldn't be able to handle it or to keep the baby safe, and then I, of course, felt Guilty for being imperfect and for Worrying.

Worry is the bigger "ugly baby" for me than Guilt.  If I am not careful I can be consumed by it.

Even now as my kids are school-aged, I worry about crazy stuff.  Are my kids going to get lost today? Are they going to fall off the sidewalk as we walk down main street?  Will someone take their pizza money?

Am I feeding them enough meat?

Do I need to spend more time reading with them, or doing math flash cards?

I just have to be ready for anything.

What will happen if there is a fire?

What will happen if I get sick?

It can really get me down.  Tell me I'm not the only one.

I honestly don't know how many times I have asked Mr. Man what to do if the car drives into the lake. Do I roll the windows down or leave them up?  Do automatic windows even work when they are wet?  

I just have to be ready for anything.

GAAAHHG!

So now I have come up with a remedy to clear my mind when Worry tries to take over.  I start an anti-worrying game, kind of like positive thinking, but sillier: The Positive "What ifs".

"What if... Little Miss was labelled a genius?"

"What if ... the person we helped on the street was a billionaire looking for an heir?"

"What if ... I got a call from a school that said I was the only person qualified to do the teaching job?"

"What if ... God sends us to Peterborough?"  "Or Africa?" 

The closest I got to a real adventure was a phone call one night in which the person at the other end was asking me to judge a cake competition in Arkansas.  I said, "What?"  And the lady went on and on about their culinary school, and how they need a fourth judge and someone gave them my name...

"Oh, wait." I said, suddenly realizing what was going on, "You need the Cakes by Erin from Illinois.  You are speaking to the Cakes by Erin in Canada."  And as she went on to appologize and try to get off the phone, my shoulders slumped, I hung up the phone, and kicked the sofa.

"I could've done that you know!" I said to Mr. Man.  "Crap!"  And I continued on making boring chicken with boring rice, in my boring corningware, in my boring house.

So, hey! What if I hadn't told them I was from Canada?  What if they hadn't believed me and paid thousands of dollars for me to fly down there, stay in a hotel and pretend I know something about culinary arts?

Could've happened.

One day I decided to engage Mr. Man in my game.  I threw some of these ideas at him, "What if a baby got dropped off on our front step?"  "What if it was an heir to billions?" "What if you became a volunteer fireman?"  "What if you became MAYOR!!"  He ignored me at first, then went a bit pale, then put a pillow over his face.  Eventually I could tell he had something to say;

"Oh, I know!" he said, excitedly, "What if everything stayed the same?" And he waved his hands in the air like it was some big deal.

Hmmph.  Well, that's no fun.

I'd like to think that I would be calm and controlled if something terrible ever happened.  Perhaps I could be the woman who steps in to take care of any situation, but probably not.  It doesn't matter how many flashlight batteries are in the cupboard, or how many cheese strings I pack in my purse.  Shit happens.  And of course, the Lord holds me and my family in His hands.  And I know that Worry is a sin.  SO WHAT if I drive really slow around lakes and rivers?

But the fact is that Jesus says, "Do not worry about tomorrow, for today has enough trouble of it's own.  Take heart! I have overcome the world."  So today I will try not to fret over wee things and focus on the tasks at hand. Tomorrow?  I won't worry about it.  I will focus on the positive "What Ifs".

"What if ... the day is perfect?"

Well, who knows?

"What if ... Mr. Man joins the church council!!"

Monday, November 12, 2012

A Boy at Rest

Boys.  What do I know about boys?  Not much.  Every day I am surprised and perplexed at what my son does.

But I do know that in certain scenes, he is perfect.


Total Pageviews