Cold Streaming

Yes, Reggie was a name once used for my dear old Dad. There’s also Reg, Ratch, David-uh, Super Dave, Artie-Baby, and quite a few more.
I have such good memories of my father. He used to take me to the Symphony every season when I was young. I would squirm with excitement when it came time for the Conductor to pass his baton to a child in the front row… so Dad and I would always try to get the front row so that I would be picked. I never was picked to go up there but we didn’t stop trying. I think that going to the Symphony helped me see what it would be like to play an instrument really well — so it kept me motivated to keep practicing.

Another good memory was the time that I wanted to help weed the vast garden that my Mom and Dad plant every year. I believe it was the carrot patch that I was trying to weed… I didn’t know what baby carrots looked like (turns out they look very much like grass) and so I gleefully picked every last baby carrot out of the entire patch and left the quack grass there to grow unhindered. He didn’t get mad at me… he just planted more.
My Dad would play the piano every night as I was going to sleep. I play those songs now, just to remember. My Dad was my exam buddy– after I did a piano exam, we would go to Dairy Queen and then I’d get a new outfit in Kelowna. I remember the hot pink sweater dress with the butterfly belt. Tiffany’s “I Think We’re Alone Now” was playing in Mariposa (the store I bought it in) as I was trying it on. Oh yeah. Wish I had a picture of that beaut!

Dad was always one to chat with the store clerk or bank teller or someone in line-up or the gas-filler-upper-dude. He’d read their name-tags and then start up a conversation with that person like they were best buds. Going to the store with him is a real treat, actually. People know him and they wave and talk to him… he’s so fun to talk to. He’ll also shorten your name if he possibly can. Even if your name is un-shortenable, he’ll find a way to do it. He called me “Fer” for a long time, until I thought it was SO TOTALLY EMBARASSING that I asked him to stop it. It’s a way better nick-name than Jen-E-Fart, which is what my brother calls me.

Dad loves Date Squares and Lemon Meringue Pie. If I was at home today, I’d make him this new pie recipe that I just found… hee hee hee! Back in Vernon, they would always make a pie for all the Dads on Father’s Day. A whole pie. Insane.
Those of you who know my Dad love him. It’s impossible NOT to love the guy, honestly! I hope all your Father’s Day memories are as good as mine. I am truly blessed with a wonderful father.

That’s what is sitting on my lap right now. A little hint from a hungry 3-year old. Now he’s staring up at me with those gorgeous blue eyes and I am melting into a pool of mushy goo.

Brett is anxiously searching for a piece of medical equipment that is tres expensive that he has misplaced… ooops. I think I shall go help him look.

I’m back. I found it, naturally. I remember my Mom knew where everything was. She was the “go-to” gal for all things lost. Now I assume the role as “Mom: Finder Of Everything”.

Stake Conference was very exciting today for all the people sitting around me. Sure the talks were great. Sure the choir rocked. But the entertainment coming from the Poulin Pew was beyond compare. There were (in no particular order):  kids crying, kids that screamed in both anguish and delight, kids emitting killer gas, kids throwing marshmallows, kids stomping on siblings, kids slithering down the aisle on their tummies, kids emptying the contents of the diaper bag (thereby unearthing a myriad of uneaten snacks, packed weeks prior to this occasion, molding and perking in the depths of the bag… my favorite was the cheese… ewww), one particular kid was holding her skirt up above the belly-button line, kids without shoes and socks… the list goes on and on. Two hours of pure… joy. At the end of the ordeal, a lady behind me put her hand on my shoulder and said, “You are a great mother. That’s all I saw.” Oh dear. That pushed me over the edge of the emotional cliff and I started tearing up… I got out of there FAST… but then the kids saw the brick retaining wall around the church and we were stuck there for another 15 minutes. The rest of the day was pretty much an ordinary Sunday, featuring a few highlights of sunlit bubble-blowing/chasing and chatting with my Mom on the phone.

I have finished teaching piano now. I’m happy and sad at the same time. I chose to quit because my little ones were suffering from lack of Mommy time. This week it finally hit me how different life will be when I am not teaching. I did have a sort of scheduled play-time for my kids with the students that came and I got to catch up with lots of my favorite people each week in person… that is going to be difficult to replace. I did have quite a good time teaching and being silly. Life will be a little less hectic without the 8 hours of teaching each week, but I think it will be missing something too. Happy and sad.

Brett has moved on to torturing me with another photo session. He loves to FLASH (he just bought a new flash for his camera AND a new cord so he can move the flash anywhere he wants…) and he has got a photography gig coming up this weekend. He’s pretty excited about it. I’m glad he has a few fun things to do in the midst of a grueling residency program. He loves to go biking as well. Now that the weather’s better he should be out and about.

I’m still getting started on my running program. I went twice last week. This week will be better, I hope. I think I can run 3 km without stopping at the moment… gotta get up to 10 km before September. EEEEEEEEEK!

See the video here.

The scene: A Relief Society March Party.

The theme: Cheerleading for our Sisters as they do a TALENT SHOW.

The talent Jen showed: Her talent for embarassing herself.

I decided to do a skit about Twilight with some other gals. Those of you who follow the Twilight Saga will be aware of where my material comes from for this skit, and those of you who don’t will be extremely clueless, and won’t think it’s funny at all.

Visiting Teaching In Twilight

Curtains Open
Bella stands center stage, reading scriptures. A van comes in from the side, swerving out of control, aiming straight for Bella.

Bella: Oh no! It’s going to hit me!!

Sister Edward rushes between the van and Bella, crushing it with one hand.

Bella: Sister Edward! You stopped the van!  (Sister Edward pulls out a casserole with the other hand and gives it to Bella. Bella smells it and says…) YOU BROUGHT A SNACK! I know what you are. You’re impossibly kind, and trustworthy. You come to my house every month. You are always there if I need to talk. How old are you?
Sister Edward: 29.

Bella: How long have you been 29?

Sister Edward: A while. What am I then? Say it. Out loud. SAY IT!

Bella: VISITING TEACHER!

Sister Edward: Are you afraid?

Bella: I’m only afraid they’ll switch you to another route.

Victoria and another girl strut onstage (preferably to dramatic Twilight music)

Victoria: Wanna hear some gossip about Bella?

Mean Girl: Yeah! You’re the one with the wicked backbite!

Bella: Oh no! They’re after me!!

Sister Edward: I got your back, baby!
Sister Edward grabs the Bible off the table, crouches protectively between Bella and the girls, growls and bares her teeth.

Sister Edward: The Visiting Teaching Message this month is found in 1 Corinthians 13:8, “Charity Never Faileth!” Get thee hence, Victoria!

The mean girls bare their teeth but cower, back away, then run offstage.

Sister Edward: Don’t worry. I’m on your side. I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy again! You ARE my sister now!

Bella and Sister Edward give each other a big hug.

Curtains close.

I actually have video footage of the performance and I really am planning to post it on here. I was “Sister Edward”. Can you envision it?

For the faint of heart: you should have stopped reading the last post at the title if you didn’t want to hear about poo. Consider yourself warned.
This one also involves my Abby darling but it also includes “Revenge of the Seth” as well.

About 2 years ago we decided to replace our carpet. I had an appointment to meet with the Carpet Chick at the store. I had the two youngest in tow… Abby (age 3) and Seth (about 10 months.) We went in good time (with about one minute to spare), waltzed in at exactly the right hour, and proceeded to wait 35 minutes for the lady, as she had better things to do. Abby ran around and had a jolly old time, but Seth (being the chunky monkey that he was) needed me to hold him the entire time. Those of you who have seen my babies know that this is no ordinary task. I carried him through the gargantuan carpet warehouse and showroom until we finally found a sort of playroom for kids equipped with a TV and a dirty table. At this point I was approached by Carpet Chick. She made some comment like, “Oh, HERE you are!” as if she had been looking for us the entire time we had been waiting for her. My nostrils flared slightly to show my dismay, only to take in a whiff of a putrid smell emanating from nearby.

I search for the cause of the smell. “Seth’s diaper? It’s got to be Seth. Abby has been potty-trained for… for… OH NO.” I spy the ever-growing lump in her pants. I ask for the location of the bathroom. It’s across the warehouse, exactly opposite of where we are now. I grab Abby’s hand and try to run for it, but poor little Abby is waddling, penguin-like, trying to pinch her butt-cheeks together to not let any more come out.

We get to the washroom and I realize my diaper bag (with all the wipes, emergency supplies) is in the car, of course, because the appointment was only supposed to be 5 minutes long. I get Abby to the toilet and see that the damage is extremely thorough and complete, and the Disney Princess that graced those little briefs was never going to see the light of day again. I pulled the underwear down, smearing poo everywhere. Seth was not pleased to be in my arms at that point. I couldn’t hold him and clean Abby at the same time, so I had to put him down. Down. On the floor. On the floor of a public washroom. Is there anything more disgusting? Wait for it…

Back to the clean-up efforts. I take the one ply, super cheap toilet paper and try to wipe all the poo from everywhere. The Princess panties go in the trash. Abby goes commando. I am just finishing the worst of the cleanup on the toilet and surrounding area when I hear a “sploosh, sploosh” coming from the other stall. MY 10 MONTH OLD IS PLAYING IN THE TOILET IN A PUBLIC WASHROOM. I blanch. I scramble over to the next stall where I see my beloved Seth-monster, elbow deep in the toilet, grinning widely in triumph.

Fighting the gag reflex, I get him to the sink as fast as I can, scrubbing his chubby arms with soap and water. He is not pleased that I have destroyed his fun game, and he starts crying loudly. I trap him under my arm, finish pulling up Abby’s pants, and scrub her down with soap and water. As I’m struggling with her and with Seth’s flailing body, I attempt to clean myself up as well. I am actually sweating by this time. I have decided that I am going straight home. I am not meeting with Carpet Chick.

I stomp out of the bathroom with the 2 kids and meet up with Carpet Chick. “I am going home,” I state.

“Well, really all you have to do is sign the papers. Did you want to make another appointment for tomorrow?” she says sugar-coatedly.

I think to myself that I never want to come to this evil place again, so I decide to sign the papers. I set Abby right by the door where I can see her, and keep Seth in my arms. Carpet chick brings the papers for me to sign, and Seth starts wriggling around again. I smell something familiar, something faintly… POO-ISH. I check him. It’s not Seth. I keep searching. I have to put Seth down because my arms are going to fall off. I look on the back of my right hand and there, looking like a brown-green streak of paint, is POO. I look up at Carpet Chick to see if she’s noticed that I am holding her fountain pen with a poo-stained hand. She is only about a foot away from me, so she can probably smell it. I keep signing as fast as I can go. I wonder if it would be too obvious if I suddenly became a leftie and switched writing hands…

At this point it occurs to me that I don’t know where Seth has gone. He was standing at my feet just a second ago. I start to look around and call his name. All of a sudden, there’s a huge noise — “BOOM BOOM BOOM” — coming from the store’s radio speakers. Seth has crawled to the sound system cupboard and is playing with the volume control. Customers start wailing that their eardrums have been shattered. Seth looks around with dinner plate eyes and starts to cry again. Abby just stands and watches everything with a little whimsical smile on her face. I have had it.
I grab Seth and Abby and say, “I am never coming back to this store. Don’t worry.” And stalk out.

“Can we go to the mall for some popcorn, Mommy?” Abby asks.

“No.”

The end.

I realized I haven’t told one of my greatest poo stories on this blog, and it needs to be shared. What would life with kids be without a poo story or two?

This one is about my darling Abby. It is entitled… “The Blueberry Poo Story”. Enjoy.

It was blueberry season. Little Ben and baby Abby filled their faces with blueberries and I thought that I was a fabulous mother for giving them such healthy snacks. Then it was time to change a rather stinky diaper.

The colour of the poo: blue-ish green with many tiny seeds and blueberry skin particles.

The intensity of the smell: highly toxic/weapons grade.

The amount of effort required to wipe it off the cute little bum: Herculean.

As I was wiping (going through many wipes) I tried to get off one particular chunk that was located right at the… ahem… sphincter… and it just wasn’t coming off. Armed with yet another wipe, I grabbed the offending chunk between my fingers (which were covered by the wipe–don’t worry). I started pulling. It grew longer and longer, as I was actually pulling a thin, white, string-like thing out of her poor little bum. Oh dear. By this time, I’m thinking,”It’s a WORM! My little daughter has WORMS!! I bet she got them from Grandma and Grandpa Poulin’s stupid dog. I’m going to barf! I’m going to kill that dog!” But then I started thinking about what my dear little one could possibly have eaten besides blueberries. It clicked: one of those candy necklaces! She was chewing on one of those yesterday… (all the time I was thinking these things I was still pulling the offending thing and it was getting longer…) and then I realized that it must be an elastic… I should stop pulling … TOO LATE… SNAP!!!! The elastic snapped out like a slingshot, startling Abby and spattering me in tiny particles of blueberry poo. At least my mouth was closed.

Every time there’s a kid birthday in this house I find some way for my creative juices to leak out… not to the point of wearing Depends* … but you get the idea.

My latest escapade has been Thomas the Tank Engine. Seth absolutely adores him. Here we have the cake beside his Thomas toy that he adores. You will notice that Abby has helped me decorate with spatters of red icing (that actually spell ‘Seth’) and little flowers along the green field.

Here is Seth’s cake from last year… his favorite stuffed monkey is featured here, presenting the cake to him. He loved it and said “Fank you, Mommy!”

These were made for Halloween for Ben’s class in 2007. I got the idea from Geneil (SUPER FANTASTIC MOM WHO SHOULD WRITE HER OWN BLOG) and these went over extremely well.

Ben’s 7th. There was some confusion about whether this was an alligator or a dinosaur… it was the latter.

Abby’s 4th, 5th, and 6th birthday cakes all look pretty much like this one. Ever since she got a Barbie cake she has asked for them ever since. I’m not too creative for her cakes.

Ben’s 6th. The GREEN Power Ranger mask. It HAD to be green.I didn’t know how to make the black at that point so I dusted the black parts with Oreo cookie crumbs. It worked!

Abby’s 3rd birthday cake. She was obsessed with Nemo and was sooooo happy when she saw that he came to her birthday. Singing the birthday song went well, and blowing out the candles was fine, but when it came to cutting the cake, Abby cried and said,”Nemo Owwee!! Nemo Owwee!” She took back the piece from whoever I’d given it to and tried to put it back together. Poor little Abby. Mommy was dissecting her best friend and all her relatives were going to eat him!

Ben’s fourth. This is supposed to be a castle. I got chocolate rock candy from the bulk food section to make the outside, and the water is a fruit roll-up. The door is made from those wafers that are so stinking yummy but make you gain a pound for each one you eat.

My favorite. Ben’s Blue’s Clues cake was so cute. The paws were 3-D and the tongue was bubble-gum. So fun to make… I didn’t use a shaped pan, just cut a 9 X 13 into the right shape.

There you have some of my most favorite cakes!

I’m trying to get this blog to reflect me and my family, and no blog of mine could ever be complete without recipes. A good recipe is like a treasure that I love to share, so that all can experience the joy of making/eating yummy food. I do not understand those who hoard good recipes and don’t share them… but that’s just me. Two people can make the same thing and it could come out completely different. That’s my speech on the subject.

Here’s the recipe for Fijian Haystacks. My sister-in-law Glynis is the one who gave me this recipe, and I LOVE it!!!! It sounds weird, but it is divine and fun for guests or just a regular weeknight!

Fijian Haystacks

Sauce:

3/4 c. ranch salad dressing (Hidden Valley is best)

1 TB lime juice

1 tsp curry powder

1 garlic clove (pressed)

Little bit of salt and pepper

Wisk until well blended and set aside.

Chicken:

2 lb boneless, skinless chicken bosoms, cut into 1/2 inch cubes

4 TB snipped fresh cilantro

Toppings:

1/4 c toasted sliced almonds

1 large Granny Smith apple cut into small pieces (sprinkled with lemon juice to prevent browning)

1 medium carrot, peeled and cut (julienne)

1 small red onion, sliced into thick wedges

1/2 cup sweetened, dried cranberries

Heat skillet over medium high heat. Lightly spray skillet with nonstick cooking spray. Cook chicken until no longer pink. Reduce heat, add cilantro and dressing, toss to coat. Serve over 3 cups of cooked rice and top with toppings. Kind of like a taco salad, only not really. Not at all, actually. Forget that last part.

Ok, I’ll admit it… the 25 things ARE interesting to read. So, here’s my attempt to say 25 random things about myself.

1. I have certain name-brand items that are essential to me. These include Imperial Margarine, Kellogg’s Rice Krispies, Hidden Valley Ranch Dressing, and Glad Garbage Bags (now pay up, companies!) Seriously, I cannot buy the other no-name/cheaper varieties. It wounds me to do so.

2. I love teeny-bopper chick flicks. I am perhaps a little less pathetic than I was 10 years ago, but still… I’ve read the “Twilight” series through 6 times and I’ve seen the movie 4 times in the theatre. I also used a quote from “Bring It On” just today (”[She’s] the poo, so take a big whiff!”)
3. Quoting movies is a favorite pastime for me and my family. There’s nothing like a perfectly placed quote at the EXACT right time… which leads me to #4.

4. My perfectly placed quote of all time (so far) was when I saw the Grand Canyon for the first time. I said, “It’s huge! It’s gigantic! It’s enormous! I mean, they said that it was big but I didn’t expect it to be… BIG!” (That is a quote from “Roxanne” describing Steve Martin’s huge nose.) My brother-in-law heard me and said, “Well Jen, it IS the Grand Canyon!”

5. I am a very outgoing/dramatic person, but the thought of actually acting on a stage freaks me right out. I think it would be fun to try, and eventually I will try it, but I’m just a tad scared of doing it.

6. My favorite body part is my nose. I absolutely adore my nose. I’m a bit vain about it, too. Yup, just like Anne of Green Gables.

7. I can speed read. I do not retain 100% of everything I read when I burn through it, but I get the general picture. I once read 4 fantasy novels in 5 days (500 pages each). My only problem when I read is that I just don’t want to do anything else.

8. Spelling is important to me. I am extremely disappointed in myself when I spell something wrong. I hate it when I see a sign with a spelling mistake. About this I happin too bee anal!

9. I have a distinct “Salmon Laugh” which is usually reserved for when I am laughing with my sister and big brothers. I cannot do it on demand. It is strange.

10. I can’t stand wearing socks. I do it because it is a necessary evil, but when I can be free of them I joyfully strip my feet bare and do a dance of joy. Toe jam is disgusting and vile and I can’t stand it.

11. I rejoice when all of the machines are being used in my house at the same time. I feel as if I am optimally using my time… the washer is washing, the dryer is drying, the bread machine is making bread, the dishwasher is washing dishes… ahhhhh, the sweet sound of industry. And global warming.

12. I love lists. I make them all the time. The thought of a well planned out list brings a glistening tear to my eye. I have several list books and I have to muddle through them all to find the list I want to look at. Then I think, “Oh dear. Missed that deadline. And that one, and that one…”

13. I love teaching people stuff. I am an elementary school teacher and a music teacher. I wish I could just skip the administration/book-keeping/other crap of being a teacher and just stand there and teach. I love the feeling of helping someone understand something. I’m afraid my kids have to endure speech after speech that begins with…”Do you know WHY??? I’LL TEACH YOU!!!”

14. I don’t like it when people “ride middle” in a truck. I think it’s silly. It’s bugged me all of my life. Then I tried sitting in a truck all squished up close to my gorgeous husband. Not so bad… but, I still think it looks stupid. Why get squashed when you could enjoy all that lovely space?

15. I like the feeling of having learned something new. I detest the feeling that I get when I am in the middle of the learning process. This is a major deterrent to me learning things. I feel like I must master the new thing right away, and I get a tad frustrated when it takes some time. In this way, it is great for me to have kids, since I have to learn new things every single day.
16. I am learning Spanish at the moment. As per Thing 15, I detest being semi-understood by Spanish speakers, and I cannot stand my nasty accent, but all in all, I am sure it is fun. Or it will be–when I am fluent.
17. I am a bit of a perfectionist. Can ya tell?

18. I must sleep with my feet uncovered. I can’t stand it when the sheets are soooooo tight that my toes get all scrunched up. That hurts.

19. I am a good outdoor soccer player. I have a very big corner kick that is quite fabulous, if I do say so myself. I love to run after a soccer ball, but otherwise, running as a sport is lost to me. I cannot understand the draw. That being said, I signed up for a 10 K race in September (the Melissa’s run in Banff) … hello hateful learning feeling!

20. I love to bake. Whenever I feel any kind of emotion I feel the compulsion to bake something yummy. This is usually met with cheers from my family. I am particularly known for my cinnamon buns and my chocolate chip cookies.

21. I am trying to compose music. I didn’t think I had the “composing bug” but I think it might be germinating somewhere inside of me. I think that my version of Bella’s lullaby is much better.

22. I am so modest.

23. I like to read in different voices when I read a children’s storybook out loud. The other day, one of my kiddies started talking in a pretty amazing British accent and I realized that I have taught her well. Hee hee.

24. I really like the feeling of well-stocked shelves full of food. My favorite job is to put the groceries away. I really enjoy working on my food storage, and I just acquired a hand-mill (wheat grinder). Oh yeah!

25. I love my friends and family, but I am not so good at keeping in touch with them. I do try every once in a while (you may or may not have received a Christmas card from me at some point) but then I fizzle out again. Please don’t take it personally! I am working on it.

There you go. That was surprisingly difficult to do. At about 16 I thought I would never think of anything else!! If you find any spelling errors, let me know

Yes, it IS the Twilight Zone around here. Brett has been working like a dog… his call schedule is nuts. He delivered 12 babies yesterday (by way of C-Section and the OTHER way). As I was chatting with him during his 1st break of the day (at 10:30 pm) and he was trying to scarf down some food before the next call, his beeper buzzed 3 different times… 3 different wards were all calling him to come check out something or other. EEEEEK! Needless to say, it was like a Zombie traipsed into church at 9:05 and sat in my pew with my kids. This man looked a tad like my husband, but he was as white as a ghost and he was drooling as he snored, face up, mouth open, during the opening hymn. Ok, that’s exaggerating, he wasn’t drooling, but he did do the other things. Poor guy.

I’m not doing so hot with him being gone all the time either. It’s kind of hard to explain, and I know it sounds like “Oh wah! Poor ME! OH WHAT SHALL I DO???” but, it really does suck sometimes. Sometimes I can handle it fine. And sometimes not. This is a not time. I try to keep myself busy with my new hobby… CLEANING… but it doesn’t enthrall me the way a good book does… or chocolate. I love chocolate. Send me some.

I have to say that our first family skiing experience was quite fabulous. Picture all of us at Canada Olympic Park in our skis (except Brett, the self-proclaimed photographer.) The weather is gorgeous (+8 degrees), the sun is shining, and Abby, Ben and I meet our teacher. We are the only ones in the class, so it’s like having a private lesson only for half the price! Woo hoo! For the next hour and a half, we learn how to stop and start again and make big “pizzas” with our skis. Jen gets introduced to the concept of the magic carpet and proceeds to do a happy dance of joy because of the absence of the tow-rope. We stay on the bunny hill and have the time of our lives, and then we see a ski-clad little Seth zoom by us on the hill (followed closely by Daddy, who is holding his ski pants to keep him from falling.) It was so funny to see him on skis. He wasn’t scared at all, he just said “Faster, Daddy! EVEN FASTER!!”

It truly was a great time. Ben got the proper technique of skiing right away and took off. I didn’t get it right away but I kept practicing… I’m still in need of a great many hours of practice. Abby had a harder time learning how to do it, but the ski instructor was with her the whole time, encouraging her. I think she liked it. She wants to go again, anyways.

I might even try doing that again. I grew up in a little town close to a ski hill. Most of my friends knew how to ski and 2 of them were actually on the Canadian Junior Ski Team. I never went downhill skiing at all when I was younger. I’m glad I tried it. It seems like a sport that the whole family could enjoy together… perhaps even teenagers would want to hang out with their parents if there was skiing involved. Is that wishful thinking?