Cold Streaming

Really. Is there anything better than the beginning of the school year? It fills my heart with glee, just thinking about the excitement of new school supplies. I dream the dream of being organized. I feel the autumn crisp returning in the air and it transports me back to the orchard where red apples drip with goodness. Ahhh, Fall. One of my 4 most favorite seasons of the year.

This first day of school was not the best. The day before, Abby was found to have another urinary tract infection. I thought it was wise to go visit Daddy at the hospital, for he was the ER resident dude. I thought (mistakenly) that I could get the VIP treatment and get in and out FAST. Nope. No such luck. We were there for 3 hours. I also thought (mistakenly) that because I had a staff parking ticket on my van I could park in the staff parking and not pay. Ooops. After the 3 hours, I tried to get in the elevator to get down to my car and I found that the elevator would not move unless I had a STAFF CARD. DUH. I had to get a security guard to come get me and walk me down to my car. Oh dear. Not the best night. But it gets better.

Ben came home from my lovely friend’s house (who was watching the boys for me, bless her heart) and he seemed fine. I awoke to the sound of “Mommy, I think I am going to throw-up!” at about 2 a.m. Oh, the joys… puke on my new carpet, puke all over my boy, puke on the walls, door, floor, etc. Brett got up with me and together we tried to attack the offending sick. I now have a professional carpet cleaner coming tomorrow. Grody to the max. Ben was sick from 2 until 6. I then dropped onto my bed and proceeded to sleep in on the first day of school. Abby was one hour late. Great start, huh?

Everybody’s fine now. I’m starting a preschool for Seth with some gals from church. I’m looking forward to it… such a teacher-ish thing to do in September. Hopefully Seth will like it, but seeing as how there will be no MarioKart Wii to play, it might be touch-and-go for a while.

I think it may be time to post another recipe. This one is for Honey Chicken.

Honey Chicken

2 cups honey

2 TB. dry mustard

2 tsp. curry

Mix and drizzle over chicken bosoms or drumsticks or thighs. Makes enough for 6-8 servings and makes yummy sauce to pour over rice. Mmmm. Cook at 350 for an hour.

You ever notice that when you’re with your really good friends, time goes way too fast? The visit is just long enough to remind you how much you love those people, and then it’s over. I smile for days afterwards just thinking about it. I had a visit from my fabulous friend last week. We haven’t seen each other in over 3 years… but does that matter? Nope. Not one bit. I think she is the funniest gal I know, and I believe she should write a BLOG because Pioneer Woman’s got nothing on her. As official Co-President of her fan club, I will just run down a short list of what makes her so great:

1. Super Mommy.

2. Extraordinarily Patient Wife.

3. Hilariously Funny.

4. In Fantastic Shape, Even After 4 Kids.

5. Creative.

6. Makes The Best Halloween Costumes And Birthday Cakes/Parties.
7. Has A Laugh That Makes You Laugh.

8. Knows How To Be Positive.

9. Super Strong Testimony And Can Teach It To Her Kids.
10. Will Jump Into The Backseat Of Your Car On Your Birthday And Will Pretend To Kidnap You.

These are just a few of the things that make my friend wonderful.  And when she reads this, she must consider herself hugged. Love ya.

Sorry everyone!

Here we are, shivering in our little house in the middle of AUGUST. I find it both sick and wrong that we should be pulling out the mitts and hats in order to go to the park in the summertime. Hopefully, this weather will go away for at least a couple of months. It is wreaking havoc with my mood.

For example, yesterday I felt like I was going to implode for several reasons: my kids were fighting, my house was messy, my ear hurt, my friend seemed mad at me, it suddenly dawned on me how insulting I was to my dearest cuz, etc. Things were just not going my way yesterday. So… what do you do when that happens to you? Seriously, I want to know. My thoughts went straight to baking, of course, as they always do — but I sabotaged my baking efforts on purpose by running out of butter/margarine and not getting any more so I couldn’t bake.  I was thinking that today was going better, and then I taught my YW lesson and it bombed (think of Wile E. Coyote falling off a cliff and the sound effects).

I look forward to your advice, if you have any.

What else, what else… Seth has acquired excellent potty skills. Isn’t that fabulous? He rarely has accidents at night and my favorite is when he is up stumbling around in the night looking for the bathroom. He comes by that honestly… remember Auntie and Uncle?? I once had the police after me during a sleepover due to my quest to find the potty.

Abby has mastered the art of bike-riding! YAY for her! She got it into her head that she needed to learn, so she did. We covered most of her body with padding, I put on my running shoes, and we went forth to conquer the skill. She had 5 kids surrounding her at all times, giving directions, shouting encouragement, and generally making it fun for her, so she didn’t give up after she fell again and again. After 15 minutes, she got it. I was so happy I yelled at the top of my lungs and she got distracted and fell. Good times. Good padding.
You know, there are good things and bad things about having a zillion kids in your cul-de-sac. Good things: they help with biking lessons, they entertain your kids, it makes the neighborhood feel homey. Bad things: they are ALWAYS ringing the doorbell. ALWAYS. Oh yes, they eat your raspberries sometimes.

Ben is now sporting new glasses. He loves their green sheen and he feels they will help him to rock Grade 4. I can’t believe he’s in Grade 4. Crazy kid. He loves playing soccer and will go outside by himself and practice his moves. Ahhhhhh, to have that kind of energy and motivation.

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.