The latest news was confirmed by Michael Coren this week. He has come out of the religion closet. He is now Anglican. Apparently he defected from the Catholic Church a year ago. This should come as no surprise, unless all you know of him is that he wrote the book: "Why Catholics are Right."

But for those who from time to time follow him, or hear things he says, the reality is that he has been taking many shots at the Catholic Church this last year. The word is, though, he never was Catholic while saying such things. Did he still write for a Catholic publication? Yep. Did he still lead Catholic conferences and study days? Yep. But he wasn't Catholic. I guessed nobody asked him. You know, because we should have been asking him everyday if he was still Catholic. Just like asking Sidney Crosby everyday if he is still a hockey player. Don't ask, don't tell? Coren was living a bit of a lie, I think. Somehow in all this I also think Lifesitenews must be blamed. It's their fault. Yeah, that sounds about right.

In the end, though, in a certain way I admire Coren for this: that he did in fact leave. Too often we have Catholics who spend their time and energy attacking the very Church they claim to follow. This is very rampant. Our parish priest was telling us on the weekend, almost with tears, all the many attacks and lies he faces from his own parishioners. They have no desire to be Catholic, other than in name. But they never leave. Never. This is a problem. At least Luther and Calvin left. I've often stated to Becca I would rather have a travelling priest come say Mass at our house, and have devout visitors come over for it, then have a Catholic Church in town which is living a lie. The smallest seed can still grow to be an enormous and flourishing tree. But the seed needs the proper nourishment and environment. Otherwise it is surrounded by thorns and is prone to die.

So off you go Coren. I'm sure you will still remain vocal about your new-founded opposition to the true faith, and maybe even write some snarky book about why Catholics are wrong. Maybe even you will seek higher offices within the Anglican Church. Reverend Coren? Bishop Coren? Who knows. But in the end it will be very clear who you are, and what you represent. There will be no confusion. And that is a good thing. But I pray, Mr. Coren, that in a quieter and more receptive moment you clear the confusion in your own mind. There is only one true home.

And that, Mr. Coren, is no lie.

Snippets: April Edition

All the stuff you missed/we didn't blog from April in a nutshell...

1. We thought winter was gone and spring was here for good. They boys threw the last of our snow and ice piles around on the lawn so it would melt faster. After waiting a few weeks, I washed and put away all the winter coats and ski pants...

2. And then, on the weekend, we had a mini-storm that covered everything in snow and held up relatives in Saskatoon who were trying to make it home. We donned mittens and toques and a few layers for a cold, blustery walk on Saturday. Joseph sadly told Dan that, once again, Grandpa Bear wouldn't come to our house because winter was still here. He asked for his ski pants. We told him not to worry and the snow would melt soon. And Grandpa would arrive on Friday. Sure enough, it's 20 degrees out today and we're in shorts. As they say in Saskatchewan, "If you don't like the weather, just wait 5 minutes."

3. John Paul recently discovered straws. He thinks they're the best thing since nuh-nuhs (nursing)...

4. We've always said our boys have a goofball side to them. John Paul is perpetually making an "ooo" with his mouth and grunting or sweetly saying, "Oh." Joseph loves to make faces, too. I think they class this as smiling...

5. During our little spring between winters, we escaped town for Nipawin a few times to enjoy the weather and open spaces. The boys just love the little farm: horse, dog, (too many) cats. We love the freedom. We can't wait to have our own little acreage someday.

6. John Paul is... I don't know how to put this... unofficially officially (?) walking. Does 3 steps count as walking? After weeks of trying to convince him, he's finally a little bit interested. Prior to yesterday, he would just drop to his knees and laugh, like it was a huge joke that we were trying to get him to walk. Now, he'll go at it once or twice with a couple steps before deciding to drop down and laugh at us. But he's very speedy if he's holding our hands and I'm sure he'll be off and running in no time. As you can see...

[Update: After I wrote this post, John Paul took 5 steps last night. Official? Yes!]

7. On Monday night, we hosted my uncle and aunt, along with five of their nine children, as they make a huge trek from Combermere, ON to Nanaimo, BC. For a few days, Joseph was asking me, "When are your cousins coming, Mom?" and telling me things he was going to say to them or toys he would hide from them. I don't think he was expecting to have just so. much. fun. with them. He brought out every toy he had planned to hide and was delighted with all the big cousins (age 8-14). John Paul, too, was quick to get comfortable and chatty with all of them. We were so sad to say good-bye, but Joseph knows the disappointment is only temporary as they'll be back to visit again on their way home in just less than two weeks. Safe travels, Hamons!

The Most Hated Man Around

Seeing that I teach part phys ed prep coverage, I enjoy certain perks. One is that I am, by and large, popular with students. I'm seen as the teacher who lets them play, versus the mean old teacher who makes them learn how to write and multiply.

Today that all changed. You see, it was "er" day. What is "er" day? It's where you dress up as something, or someone, that ends with "er". For instance, we had kids dress up as bakers. A student came as a mother. There were ballplayers, golfers, and so on. Last year I dressed up as a carpenter. The year before I was Dressler. So, I thought, I may as well play along again this year. I very harmlessly dressed up, as much as I could, as Justin Bieber.

When I did my three internships in Ontario it was quite safe to dress up as Bieber. Granted he's changed a bit since then, but still. The girls were wild about him, and the boys, who said they hated him, sported his style of clothing and even his shaggy-do hairstyle. Again though, things have changed. Plus, this is Tisdale, not Ancaster.

I had kids walking up to me and telling me they didn't like me. There were kids who said they outright hated me. A grade three girl told me I sang like a girl. A couple more told me that I'd better watch out or else I'd get arrested again. Some said I couldn't sing at all. I was taunted that I threw eggs at houses. One girl in grade two rather shockingly told me that I did drugs. Everywhere I went I was ridiculed for being the Biebs. Some of it was rather shocking. Little kids aren't so innocent. Anyway, let's just say that I'll be happy to be good old Mr. Millette again tomorrow.

Bieber fever?






Only if you believe,






I think I'll stick to sitting by the fire eating fondue...

What NOT to Say to Riders

What NOT to Say to Riders: Part I 

(By: Mr. Millette)

Thursday was a difficult day at Tisdale Elementary School. Actually, difficult doesn't even begin to describe it. If you're wondering why, read here. Otherwise, that's all I'm going to say about it.

Very fortunately, two members of the Saskatchewan Roughriders arrived Thursday afternoon: Long snapper Levi Steinhauer and defensive back Paul Woldu. They were originally scheduled to come as part of a Rider reading program. Having them come at such a difficult time was a Godsend.

Anyway, they gave a short assembly and then opened the floor up to questions. We're not talking about questions on a PhD thesis here. We're talking questions from little kids.

First Question: "um.. are there any other players coming?..."

And that set the tone.

"Where do you live?"

"What's your favourite football team other than the Riders?

"How much money do you make?

"What's your favourite colour?"

"How come you're not wearing green?"

"Can you show us how to long snap?" - Which they did!

"Who's in your family?"

"Do you like Gainer the Gopher?"

"Who's the strongest player on the team?" - Both emphatically answered John Chick, btw.

"Have you ever been hurt?"

"How long is your hair? Can we see?"

"How high can you jump? / "How fast can you run?" / "How far can you throw?"

"Who's your favourite player on the team? I like Darian Durant!"

"Can you sign my hand?"

One little girl later told me she was mad that she didn't get to ask them if they had wives. Needless to say, it was an entertaining afternoon.

What NOT to Say to Riders: Part II

(By: Becca)

Our Dairy Queen had its grand opening on Friday afternoon, with special guest Weston Dressler, star-receiver for the Roughriders, in attendance and signing autographs. Needless to say, the boys and I donned our Rider jerseys and headed on over early to beat what we knew would be an after-school mayhem.

From the time he woke up in the morning, Joseph kept asking if it was time to go see Dressler. He was so excited to meet a real Rider!

There he was, just sitting there smiling, posing for photos, and signing autographs. And, of course, chatting with his fans...

"So, you couldn't make the NFL, eh?" one old guy asked him, a few people ahead of us.

Dressler very graciously answered in the negative.

"That's where all the money is, y'know!" the guy continued. He went on to question whether Dressler was Canadian or American, where he was from, and then make some comment about North Dakota (Dressler's home state) before wandering off.

The next guy in line stepped up with a brand new Rider hat, tags and all.

"Y'know, they sell lots of Rider stuff down at the Fas Gas!" he loudly and happily informed Dressler.

Next up, a couple guys to do a short interview recording to air on the radio. They hauled out a grocery bag full of Rider gear for Weston to sign.

"You're lucky we didn't tell everyone where we were going or we'd have way more stuff for you to sign," they told him.

Then, it was us.

"Hey, there, want to throw me your football?" Weston smiled and asked Joseph.

Joseph gaped. He was speechless. He fumbled a little and half threw the ball, coming up a little short. Dressler caught the ball and signed it for him (He's a lefty, in case you were curious!).

We chatted with Dressler a bit, telling him Daddy was so disappointed he had to be out of town at a tournament all day and couldn't meet him.

"Tell your Daddy I say "Hi", ok?" Dressler told Joseph. He signed my jersey. We asked if we could take a picture with him. I hauled Joseph up between us and someone snapped a couple photos.

"Are you going to get some ice cream now?" Dressler asked Joseph.

That was it. I don't think Joseph said anything. He was totally stunned. After Dressler handed him back the football he'd signed, Joseph stared and stared at his signature on it.

As we got our jackets on to leave, we heard the little boy next in line ask Dressler if he would sign his bike. Happily, he jumped from his seat to go outside and make the kid's day.

I told Joseph it was time to go. He didn't want to leave. He just wanted to stand there and watch Dressler, clutching his little football tight in his hands.

We finally left. It was like the flood-gates opened up. The rest of the day, he talked non-stop about Dressler. "Why did the little boy want his bike signed?" "Dressler asked me if I was going to get some ice cream." "Can we go back and see Dressler again?" "Daddy can walk over and see him when he gets home." "Why won't he be there anymore? Where does Dressler live?" "Look, he signed my football!" "Can we ask Dressler to go to the park with us? He would like to run around with us!"

Later, I too, remembered all the things I could have said to him and didn't. Things like, we're really glad he didn't make the NFL and came back to play for the Riders. Things like, I'm pretty sure my Dressler jersey is way too big on me because Dan intentionally bought it so we could both wear it. But maybe they're better left unsaid.

If you ever catch yourself in that situation where you're face to face with a Rider and fumbling for words... it's ok to be speechless.

Rockin' and Rollin'

We bought a double jogging stroller a few weeks ago and it has instigated the most amusing, humbling, and fun incidents ever since.

For one thing, it is huge. It is supposed to be the width of a large wheel chair and fit through standard doors. Either it is not this standard size or many doors in Tisdale are not standard.

We discovered early on that we can get in to our grocery store, but not out. This means that I either have to leave the stroller outside the entrance or scoot back out through the entrance when someone comes in, opening the automatic sliding doors. Needless to say, it's a laugh. People are so confused when they see me waiting to go backwards through the entrance doors. So far, our timing has also coincided every time with staff trying to bring in grocery carts.

We also can't fit through the doors at the post office. Did I mention that our two most visited places in town are the grocery store and the post office?? Instead, I have to push the wheel chair button to open one of the double doors and then quickly manually open the other while backing through and pulling the stroller from the front. However, we also have many generous, helpful people in our small town ready and willing to help a poor mom out, especially with her cute kids.

We took the stroller for a walk the other day and ended up at the old hospital grounds (now a park) by the police station. We spent the afternoon running and rolling on the hill, laughing, and eating imaginary cake that Joseph so kindly thought to bake and bring along. When we had just the single stroller, it was so hard to get places with both boys (read: 1hr to walk to the mailbox). Now, we just take off all the time. We can even go for family (or just mommy) runs. (Joseph wants me to run all the time, but I'm just not that fast.)

But aside from the general craziness of getting in and out of some places, I've been most amused by the comments I get. "Oh, is it twins?!" (Uh, no, clearly not) "Wow, you have your hands FULL!" "That's quite the vehicle you have there." "You look like you're busy!" And my personal favourite: "You guys look like you're having fun!" (This happened to be on a day when I was fed up with whiny, chatterbox kids and plunked them in the stroller for a walk just to get some quiet... so I'm sure we looked like we were having a blast, considering how (not) impressed we all were with each other).

More than anything else, this interaction with others has been my favourite part. We get stopped all the time. And it's great! How happy people are to see two little boys strolling along. How happy they are to help with a door (and how grateful we are for the help).

"Let's rock and roll," I say whenever we start up. Joseph always giggles. How truly said: "You guys look like you're having fun!"

Evangelical Counselling

I'm probably just slow (keep quiet, Becca), but it's taking me a long time to figure out what evangelizing really means. I'll take the easy way out and blame my past surroundings. When I was at the Academy the students would often surmise (not often enough in my opinion) about what they would do with their lives when they finished there. Phrases such as: "Oh, something to do with Scripture," or "teach religion somewhere," or "share my faith," were frequently tossed around. When you are surrounded by rich teaching, and living, of the faith, you cannot help but want to pass it on to others. It is a beautiful thing. But herein lies the problem, and one that I think the Academy failed to address while I was a student there, evangelizing doesn't pay bills.

Evangelizing doesn't pay bills. Save for the fortunate few such as Peter Kreeft, Christopher West, and the like. Evangelizing doesn't pay bills.

Much of my time as registrar at the Academy was spent trying to convince students there of this. "Yes, you can keep studying and get that B.A. degree, but then what?" Much of what I said was based on my leaving Redeemer University with a B.A. and no promising future. It's an empty feeling. So I would counsel students to somehow figure out what it is they liked to do, and take a stab at it. Yet I was usually unsuccessful. The call to evangelize was too great for many of these kids. And it is a great and wonderful call. But it won't pay the bills.

Let me correct what I said at the beginning where I thought I might be a little slow at getting things. I'm more than a little slow, actually. Because it's taken me another 5 years to realize that I was also wrong about evangelizing not paying bills. The fact is that we are called to evangelize in our daily, mundane, tiresome, boring, and unending tasks, otherwise known as "work". Evangelizing at work, the work that pays bills.

Yet I don't speak of evangelizing at work to mean simply being on fire for God all the time, and people seeing this fire, and you starting up breathtaking conversations about God, conversion, and the like. Good for you if you do. As Fr. Andrew at the TLM would say: "People are just supposed to see us and be inspired? Good luck with that..." And for me the truth is I'm shy, or very introverted, or simply bored, when around others. Further, having to sit in a staff room around women talking about shopping and flowers tires me. I don't do it. No to evangelizing. Right?

Consider the words of St. Jose Maria Escriva: "Sanctifying one's work is no fantastic dream, but the mission of every Christian - yours and mine. That is what that lathe-worker had discovered, when he said, 'I am overwhelmed with happiness when I think how true it is that while I am working at the lathe and singing - singing all the time, on the outside and on the inside - I can become a saint. How good God is!'" Furrow - 517

It is a remarkable thought to think that we can become saints by working at a lathe. Or by digging a ditch. Or by marking yet another lousy essay. Or by changing that 5th poop of the day. "How good God is!" Yes, the call to evangelize is very real, even necessary to the very nature of the Church. But the call to evangelize can begin simply by doing whatever it is you're doing, and doing it well. By doing it for a higher reason. Then we can become saints. And then, oh yes then, our life is truly one of evangelizing.

So those lofty dreams of presenting Scripture to eager listeners, or teaching the faith within the Church, are all good and well. But we must not ever deny the power of the lathe worker, or the garbage man, or the office assistant, or especially the mom and dad. God calls all. Evangelizing will be inherent in the call. And how marvelous it is. To become a saint in it all. Potentially. To potentially call others as well.

Brilliant! I can hardly wait to see what I'm going to figure out in the next five years!

One can't rush these insights, you know.

Points to Ponder - Friends Edition

Here's just a quick something for our readers. Ponder some of these points.


1 - Happy Birthday!

Today is/was Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI's birthday. As much as I love, appreciate, and value Pope St. John Paul II, there is no denying Benedict is my favourite Pope since Gregory the Great. And yes, the offer I put out over two years ago of having him come live with us still stands. The boys would really like him too I'll bet. Heck, I'd even buy a bigger house somewhere out in the country if meant he would come live with us. I think he'd like us. We certainly share the same views on a lot of things.


2 - Rainbow Colours

I don't mean that sort of rainbow. I mean that I'm sick of having these "dress in such a such a colour to raise awareness for such and such a disease/plague/problem" at our school. There's red/pink for heart and stroke, purple for epilepsy, pink for breast cancer, pink for anti-bullying, red for Terry Fox... heck, we were supposed to wear blue recently and I don't have a clue why. I must also note that most of the time these colours are more feminine (as conventional by custom, as we say in logic class). The ole dress men in feminine colours to raise awareness for something.

But what about the colour blind? Are we not discriminating against them with these colour days? Perhaps I will campaign for a wear grey day to raise awareness for colour blindness. I will then mandate that all teachers in every school board in the world comply with this. Wear grey day. Pass it on. Send cheques to me.


3 - Archery

The provincial archery championships are next Friday in Avonlea, SK. It has taken many hours of coaching, but we're near ready. I've been calling it the Road to Avonlea. I'm so witty the way I bring up cheesy CBC shows from the 90s. Anyway, if anyone is ever in Tisdale and would like a free archery lesson, just stop on by (the second lesson would cost you though).


4 - "My Friends"

Joseph is obsessed with his mythical friends: "Bob, Siri, and Dyna." They recently bought a house just a block over from us, in case you're needing an update on them. However, Bob, Siri, and Dyna seem to spend way more time at our house, if you ask me. They are always involved in everything. Thankfully, they are frequently busy helping Joseph fix our house. They even helped me put up some wall hooks in our entrance the other day. I didn't realize it until after. Today, though, was a bit much. We were eating supper and Becca began describing to me the, er, consistency and all of John Paul's recent diaper fill (let's just say it didn't help that we were eating spaghetti....). Well Joseph then commented that Bob had the same problem. I asked him how he knew, but he just shrugged his shoulders. Friends just know these things.

And to think I used to eat supper while watching sports while before I got married! Life was so boring then.


5 - Gotcha Covered

Sometimes things get a little out of hand when Joseph plays. I don't think I need to explain anymore than this:

I hope they were clean.


6 - Land of What?

Tisdale, the Land of Rape and Honey, has announced that they will be reevaluating the town slogan. The town has tactfully suggested that perhaps, since maybe, gosh you know, the town doesn't have rapeseed produced nearby anymore, that maybe perhaps golly gee  the younger generation doesn't identify with the slogan as much, maybe. As a young person of Tisdale, I think I'll just vote to keep the current slogan. We must honour our past, after all.

And yes, all of this is eerily similar to a Corner Gas episode. You wonder how Brent Butt came up with all of his ideas?


7 - There is no Number 7 because I'm tiiiiirrred. Good night.

Picture Pages

Here are some recent happenings, via pictures. They are in no particular order.

Friday was our anniversary. We drove to Nipawin after school and dropped the kids off at grandma and grandpa's. We then went out for supper... alone! Awkward...

Anyway, I had a nice steak to keep my thoughts somewhat away from wondering what the kids were doing. Of course they were fine. Afterwards we spent some time outside (with the kids). 

 Don't mind Emma's derriere.

The easiest way to carry John Paul.

Throwing stones.

I love spring run off.


The other day was book character day at school. Who am I?

Jughead, of course. My grade five students knew who I was, the younger kids had some trouble with it.

On Becca's birthday we had some snow (since melted). That evening as we looked out at the bird feeder we had some unwanted guests. They were eating the spilled birdseed. Although they might look cute, they are big pests for anyone with a garden.

The Tisdale Recorder did something awesome this week. They put a really good looking little boy in their paper. Here he is:

Finally, I'm a little disappointed in Becca. She was teaching Joseph about "selfies" last night. I can't stand them. Anyway, apparently Joseph then took his first selfie. John Paul joined in too.

Marriage: Grape Expectations

Anniversaries of big events always get me thinking back to those times. Here are some ramblings...


April 9th, 2010

We finished the wedding rehearsal, and the wedding rehearsal meal. I'm sure Becca and I broke some revered wedding rehearsal meal traditions with it. Pizza and pop at a church rectory. No new outfits. No speeches. Just some food and hanging out. Becca and I went to the church to pray afterwards (which, I think, breaks the superstitious tradition of not seeing each other afterwards). We then went to our separate houses.

I'll never forget it. I ate a big bowl of grapes that night. All by myself! Give me a moment here while I let these words soak in... A big bowl of grapes, all by MYSELF. I mean a big bowl. I even watched hockey on T.V. while I ate. I haven't eaten a big bowl of grapes by myself since. Yep. Marriage is a big big change. Share share share. Give give give. Ever since then my life has changed dramatically (well duh). No more big bowl of grapes for me. Unless Becca and the kids are away. And the ironic thing is, if they do go away, I miss them too much to even care for grapes.

You just can't win.


April 10th, 2010

Back at the church in the morning for adoration and confession, with Becca. I always wanted to have three sacraments in one day, so it had to be this day. I blew it on my confirmation day. Not my fault though. I was confirmed in a hockey rink, over the penalty box, while the choir sang "Everything I Do, I Do it for You." Not a memorable grace-filled day to say the least. But the wedding day is. There's no blowing it this time. The next chance for three sacraments in one day would be on my deathbed (I'd better not blow that either).

Yes! I manage to get three sacraments in! I'm very competitive that way. I'm not sure who I'm competing against, but at least I know I have the upper grace hand over him or her. I can see myself looking at someone's wedding pictures some day... "oh very nice... did you get three sacraments that day? You didn't? Oh... that's too bad... really bad actually... I did, you know."

The wedding, I remember, seemed extremely short. In reality I think it was closer to two hours than one hour. The moment we stood there saying our vows can only be described as surreal. Before we went up to say them I whispered to Becca: "there's still time..." meaning there's still time to back out. She didn't appreciate my humour too much. Besides, if one of us backed out then I wouldn't get my three sacraments in. So we said our vows. You do what'ya gotta do. I distinctly remember looking out at the stained glass in the church while I stood there. Beautiful windows. I wonder how much they'd cost nowadays?... Whoops! Yep! Yes I accept her as my wife, and all... Could you even get those made anymore?... Yes, in sickness and in health... Maybe someone in the States or Italy could do them?... All the days of my life... Would they create them in Italy and then ship out pieces, or would the artist have to be flown out here to make them?... Amen.

The reception was very fun. Some things went right. Some things went wrong. Wise Dr. Cassidy, the president of OLSWA, once told me that as long as there is food on the table, and things look not-terrible, events usually go well. I think it was good. The food was great. I'm told by Becca that there were flowers there. So all must be well.


April 11th, 2010

People spend so much time planning a wedding! Although things need to be planned well, I am always saying that most of the time must be spent preparing for the day after the wedding. You know, the real marriage. Well I also always say to Becca that the day after our wedding was the worst day of my life. I joke. Slightly.

We were exhausted. Being always in the habit of waking up early, guess what? I woke up even earlier. So tired. After Mass we went and cleaned up the hall. More work. Then we went to visit family and friends. I distinctly remember being absolutely sick of all the attention. Leave me alone already. Go get some sacraments or something. Then the van we were about one hour away from inheriting was discovered dented, with the denter in question never to be found (except someday in hell, I'm sure). It was so tiring. I just wanted a big bowl of grapes and to watch hockey. But for the first time in my adult life I was denied this necessity. And I knew that marriage had begun.


April 12th, 2010

Let the honeymoon begin! Becca and I took off for Montreal, with a pit stop in Ottawa, after morning Mass. Mass in itself was an adventure that morning, with Fr. getting into a near shouting match with some wacky woman intent on proclaiming that the third secret of Fatima was not revealed yet. But we left for our honeymoon. Just Becca and I, heading out in our newly dented van... my family in the back seats.

We had to drive them to the airport in Ottawa. It's the least we could do, really. Becca and I were so grateful that they came, despite the many expenses. They dropped everything and came. Yowza we're grateful.

So we dropped them off. I then got lost in Ottawa. But we eventually made it to Montreal. We had a very fun time in Montreal and Trois Riviere. We saw many neat places and people. I'll spare you the stories. It was wonderful.


April 17th, 2010

Our first fight as a married couple. We were tired when we returned from our trip. We decided to make nice chicken salads for supper. I was frying up some chicken. Becca was cutting up some veggies. There's just one problem, Becca was cutting the cucumbers for the salads into quarters. I quickly corrected her and told her they had to be in thin loonie shapes. Nope. She was doing quarters. But, I reasoned with her, professional chefs cut them in loonie shapes. Needless to say, we didn't even meet halfway and do semi-circles. We just argued about it. I slammed the door and went out for a walk to find some grapes. Not really. I just thought about doing that. In reality, we stewed for a while, and then finally realized our silliness. We made up. We grew from it. In short. I realized, for the first time in my life, the road to holiness was about to be different. It was about to become a life of giving up my own will, or at least trying, for the sake of others. To sacrifice. To finally, for the first time in my life, learn to live a non self-centered life. I can't believe that I've been doing it for five years already. Five years of it. What a thrill. What a cross. What a blessing. What a life. A true, meaningful, life. Thankfully I'm doing this with the very best at my side.

Happy Anniversary Dear!

You've turned my grapes into the most beautiful wine.

29 is Oh So Fine!

Yesterday I turned 29.

Back in my late-teens or early-twenties, I would have told you 29 was old. I still feel like it’s much older than I should be. Because, really, I don’t feel that old and I often wonder how the heck I got here, married almost 5 years and with two little boys underfoot. This is “mom territory” - what am I doing here?

Honestly, I have no idea what I am doing here, but it's a pretty good place to be. I am so blessed!

Dan left little notes all over the house:

And made me a delicious supper:


My boys sang "Happy Birthday" and blew out my candles for me:


John Paul exhibited his birthday suit post cake-eating for us to enjoy:


And later proudly stood on his own as a present for mom:

Easter Weekend

A very happy and blessed Easter to you all! 

We returned late last night from a packed and fun-filled Easter weekend away. Today, we're a little tired and grouchy (I'm lookin' at you, John Paul!), but otherwise still basking in the joy of the Easter season and so happy that Jesus has risen! We enjoyed some stellar hospitality this weekend and filled our bellies again and again with great food amidst wonderful company.

We spent Friday in Nipawin where Dan and his sister Lynda sang beautifully for the Good Friday service, despite missing some voices from past years. Joseph and John Paul were so good all through the long readings. When it came time to venerate the cross, John Paul watched as I leaned over to kiss Jesus' feet; he had a huge grin as I leaned him down a bit for his turn, only to be disappointed when I thought better of the idea. He had a long string of drool ready to drop on Jesus!

Saturday morning we headed off for Saskatoon. We picked up a second-hand double jogging stroller we bought off Kijiji and did a bit of shopping while we waited for our hotel room to be ready. Then we hit up the pool water-slide and hot tub, much to Dan's (ahem, the boys) delight! 

John Paul hanging out with Aunty Rheanne:

Post-swim bath: My rule is always to use as much water as possible when we stay in a hotel...

Dan went to the Easter Vigil Mass (with his folks) at the old Cathedral, while I stayed behind with two tired boys who were sleeping before 8pm. Apparently, the Mass was lovely and Jesus was even there... or one of the altar boys looked exactly like him... something like that.

The boys were thrilled to be sharing adjoining rooms with Grandpa and Grandma. We spent more of our waking hours hanging out next-door where there were pretzels, juice, and later pizza and Easter treats in abundance. 

On Easter Sunday morning, we headed over to the Latin Mass (after our very early rising at 5:20am when our room alarm clock went off... no, we didn't set it!). I can't even describe the beauty of the Mass, but we were obviously not disappointed we'd made the trip to the city in specifically to celebrate Easter Mass there. Joseph, however, was a little disappointed when he walked into the church and remarked to me: "But Jesus is still on the cross!"

Our first round of awesome hosts, the Rogals, had an incredible brunch and egg hunt ready when we walked in their door. In typical 3-year-old fashion, Joseph and Catherine were searching and searching for eggs right in front on their nose. Joseph told me in amazement, "I couldn't see the eggs!"

Checking out his stash:

They were somehow easily able to see the one egg John Paul had, which Joseph repeatedly took from him, saying, "I found one!" Poor John Paul... And I have no idea why Joseph looks so worried, but he didn't want to smile, apparently...

 

Then, we were off again to Humboldt and more cousins. We hadn't seen the "other" Millette cousins since August (!!!) and were so happy to get the warmest welcome from our little god-daughter, Monica, who was all smiles all day. John Paul got an awesome birthday present from his god-parents and all the kids flocked to see the fun. Finally, the two little ones were left by themselves with the toys...

The Millette boys on a little walk around the neighborhood:

These cousins all share the Millette name (absent: Monica):

The kids had tons of fun! Obviously. Once again, our hosts outdid themselves with wonderful food and we were stuffed. We sure won't let such a long time pass before we take advantage of their wonderful hospitality again ;)

And before I head off to see to my whiny boy that just. wants. mom. here is one final picture of our family. Too sunny, one boy not smiling. This is as good as it gets!

Le Jeudi Saint

Update from us:

We are heading to Saskatoon today to finish off the Triduum in style. The plan is to splurge on a hotel with a waterslide. The highlight will be the 9am Mass in the extraordinary form. Afterwards we will go to my sister's for brunch, and then drive to Humboldt for supper at my brother's.

Yesterday my sister an I led the singing for the Good Friday service. It's kind of exhausting singing on a day of fasting. But the alternative would be to have the 75+ choir lead us in some folk music. So you do what you gotta do.

We didn't make the Holy Thursday service. We made it as far as the parking lot of the church, and then near tragedy ensued. John Paul got his little hand caught in the van door as it was being closed. The van was locked too, so his hand was stuck for a few seconds (though it seemed like forever). In panic we quickly rushed him home, as his hand immediately turned deep purple and was swelling immensely. Our quick plan was to grab some ice and then rush him to the hospital. We feared his poor little hand was crushed! But... Holy Thursday was the tenth anniversary of the death of St. John Paul II. Let's just say there was no way this great saint was going to let anything happen to his little boy on this special day. In short, by the time we got home John Paul had already stopped crying! Within fifteen minutes he was already grabbing toys with it! Incredible! His hand is still swollen and bruised, but we still shake at how he avoided any significant injury.

Perhaps the moral of the story is for parents to always select carefully a special saint name for their child. Thank you St. John Paul II!

I've gotta hand it to you...


Have a blessed and joyous Easter!

Catering to Others

You gotta love Fr. Z. Maybe we're doing things all wrong. Maybe this is the New Evangelization. I love the part about Immaculate Mary. Read his take:

When they come to destroy your business because you are pro-traditional family

Posted on 2 April 2015 by Fr. John Zuhlsdorf

I’ve been thinking about how homosexualists target Christian businesses for destruction.  Approach a florist or a bakery or, now, a pizzeria and tell the owner that this is for a homosexual “wedding” and then hammer them with law suits.

Enough already.  It’s time for everyone to calm down.

We need a new approach.

Think about this.

When some homosexual couple comes to your Christian business for services at their immoral event, don’t panic.  Go ahead and take their business!

Then explain what is going to happen next.

Tell them that the food and services will be just fine.  And then inform them that all of the money that they pay for the services will be donated to a traditional pro-family lobby.   If it is something like catering, where your employees have to be there to provide services, tell them that all your people will smile, be professional, and everyone of them will be wearing crucifixes and have the Holy Family embroidered on their uniforms.  Then show them pictures of your uniforms.  When the truck pulls up, speakers will be playing Immaculate Mary.  Show them the truck and play the music.

“Oh, you would be offended by that?  I’m so sorry.  You approached us because we are Christians. Right?  We are happy to provide services for you and we are grateful that you chose to come to our Christian catering business.  We just want to be of help.”

Then tell them that you will take out an ad in the paper to let everyone know what you did with their money, thanking them by name for their business so that you could make the contribution.

I suspect this approach, if adopted far and wide, would put an end to attacks on Christian businesses.

It is with Great Joy that I Announce...

So the rumours are true. I can confirm them now. I have officially accepted the position of principal at Tisdale Elementary School. I take over on July 1st.

Becoming a principal has been a long and arduous journey. Now in my third year of teaching, I basically decided that it's now or never. I wouldn't want to be one of those older teachers who live a life of regret and basically take their frustration out on their students everyday.

I actually never even applied for the position. My superintendent was observing me in class a few weeks ago and was impressed by my ability to dance around student questions. He further noted my conversation with a parent who came in complaining about a mark. I simply told the parent, in a loud and angry voice, that if they didn't like it they could send their kid to the other elementary school in Tisdale (sarcasm, there isn't one). All in all, the superintendent offered me the job on the spot. I went home and prayed about it. After talking with Becca, we decided it would be better for me to spend more time at school while Joseph and John Paul are growing up. This will allow them to discover their role as boys/men more on their own. Ultimately it was the hand of God in all this.

Thank you for all your kind words. I look forward to this new role. Hopefully it leads to even bigger positions soon (though three years is a bit long to have to wait for another promotion).




Update...

Yeah right, hey. Happy April 1st.