Trick or Treat Aussie Style

Happy Halloween!

When we moved here I was pretty sure we had given up any hope for the kids to be able to go "Trick or Treating". I thought October 31st would be just another day to the Australians, with no spooky fanfare. Happily, I was wrong!

Apparently our neighbourhood is one of the few who do celebrate Halloween, so we really lucked out there. The kids didn't get to wear costumes or have any celebrations at school but they were excited that they would not miss out on the big candy grab!

Caitlyn, wearing her candy corn t-shirt and leggings, and I, in my tacky Jack-o-lantern shirt, put on our sunscreen (sorry to gloat!!), and proceeded to vamp up our house true Halloween style! Normally, I stick to some tasteful fall decorations and pumpkin patch signs, but this year I felt like I had to somehow prove my Canadian-ness by having the best decorations on the block! We had spider webs galore, a giant arachnoid hanging from the front deck, stuffed pumpkins swinging from the palm trees, and a carved twenty-four dollar orange pumpkin glowing to greet the trick-or-treaters!! Yes, I did say $24!!!! And no, I do not want to hear how pumpkins were only $2 each at Superstore!!!! Bananas, bananas, bananas!!!!!! I had just dropped my friends off at the airport and was feeling a little homesick when I made that purchase! Next year maybe we will go on the cheap and carve a yoda out of one of the green pumpkins they have here!!

At 4:30 p.m. we all got dressed and ready to head out to met some of Caitlyn's friends for trick-or-treating. Yes, all 3 of us got dressed up! And the bonus here was that we didn't have to figure out a costume that would fit over a snow suit! Oh sorry - gloating again!

Caitlyn wore her Tinkerbell costume with light-up wings, Jack was Luke Skywalker, and I dressed up as Marge Simpson. I figured that I may as well have some fun since I don't know enough people here yet to be embarrassed! We looked great, if I don't say so myself! Since Halloweening is a new thing here, the costumes we saw reminded me of my childhood. Not the fancy store bought ones you see nowadays, but the kind you threw together the day before Halloween! Girls were either witches or ghosts (bed sheet and all) and the boys were murder victims or scary masked murderers! Good thing I didn't go to all the trouble of making an Ahsoka (Star Wars) costume for Caitlyn! I would have looked way too keen!!

Paul was in charge of handing out candy. Again, I don't want to hear about how Halloween candy was $10 for 100 candy bars! I paid $22 for 50 mini Malteasers and $10 for some lollipops! But, what are you going to do??? You got to have lollies!! We actually ran out of candy by 7:30 p.m. and had to turn out the lights. I think we had more kids come to our door here than we ever did in our Calgary house!

The kids didn't get as much candy as they did last year but they didn't notice at all. They counted and sorted and were over the moon! And, they still let me raid their bags for a candy bar! Isn't that what's it about?

The Boob Man

I knew I'd get your attention with that title! You'll have to read on....

Our friends Shannon and Fred have arrived from Calgary! Yippee!!! The kids and I picked them up from the airport and everyone was all smiles, hugs, and kisses.

While Skype is great, and I certainly appreciate the technology, it can sometimes feel a little like how I'd imagine a prison visit would feel. You get to see and talk to the people you care about - but no there's touching allowed! Instead of a glass wall in between, there's a computer screen and a million miles! So, let's just say that it felt really good to physically give them an actual hug!

After having only Paul and I around for the last two months, Jack and Caitlyn were very happy to have someone else to interact with. My kids are both pretty PDA (public displays of affection) kids so I wasn't surprised to see them snuggle right up to Shannon and Fred.

Caitlyn shows her love with kisses and notes while Jack shows his with chatter and cuddles. It feels great when Jack snuggles up tight but I must admit that he does have an issue with the concept of personal space.

Poor Shannon! Let's just say, Jack was quite affectionate this week. My son gave her a big hug when we picked him up from school on Thursday. Shannon was wearing a cute black top with shells all around the neck. In his "absent-minded professor" way, Jack started to non-chalantly rub the shells on Shannon's shirt - all the while talking non-stop about his day. To my embarrassment he didn't choose the shells on her back, or the shells by her shoulders - no, my son went straight for the shells on her chest! And he didn't stop there! While chattering away, he pulled the material out, took a quick peek (I guess to make sure the "girls" were indeed there), and patted the material back down. I tried desperately to steer him away from Shan's cleavage and over to give me a hug. He gave her another quick pat, told her "I like your shirt Auntie Shannon" and then came over to me. He announced that he liked my shirt too and started rubbing the beads on my chest!

Jack has always been a boob man. I remember taking him shopping with me to La Senza when he was about 3 or 4 years old. One minute he was standing beside me and the next I could hear people laughing their heads off. I turned around and just about died. There Jack was, wearing a goofy grin and a flamingo pink bra on his head. There was one cup over each of his ears and he was trying to tie the ends together under his chin. I think someone snapped a photo on their cell phone before we could escape from the store! One day, when he runs for office, there he'll be on You-Tube! So proud!

I guess it could be worse. And what guy isn't a boob man really? At least for now, Jack doesn't mind hanging around his mom and her friends. And as for Shannon - she got more than a camera kiss on Skype to remember!

Brisbane Baywatch?

I had my first adult stroke improvement class last week. It started at 5:00 a.m. - yes, that's right - 5 in the morning!!! What was I thinking?? I've never been an early morning exerciser! But, when I signed the kids up for before-school swimming classes, I felt a surprising draw to get back into the pool.

I used to pride myself on my swimming abilities. As kids we'd swim across Surveyor Lake in the summers, racing to see who could get to the other side first. Even though my Dad would never let us go without rowing alongside, we never needed rescuing. And when a picturesque spot like Kootenay or Surveyor Lake wasn't on the horizon, we would hit good ole Sikome (did they even test for E-coli then?). It seemed like my summers were spent more in the water than on land.

I even liked swimming lessons. Part of what I liked was the competitiveness. I loved it when I could beat the boys in my class - forcing myself to go faster and faster, to skip breathing if I had to. When it came to the level where you had to swim in your clothes - I was a pro. There were no sexy UPF50+ rash shirts then - let's just say that most farmers had a better tan line than I did!

Then as I got older, I had less time for swimming. I still managed to beat Paul at two sprint triathlons when we lived in Houston. He had his excuses, and I didn't beat him by much, but it felt great. Granted, in one race I only beat him by a minute. He still claims to this day that the one minute difference was the time that it took him to close his mouth when the girl next to him stripped down naked in the bike transition area! Still, swimming was one sport I could always beat Paul.

Back to my 5 a.m. swim class. I dragged myself out of bed and to the school pool. I had on my sleek black Nike swim "togs", goggles, and ridiculous headache inducing swim cap. Not exactly a Pamela Anderson Baywatch moment but what can you do? There was only one other swimmer in the pool with me - a former life guard who swims laps every day. I felt somewhat intimidated, having not really swam laps for more than 10 years, but I decided that I was there for me, and so I'd "give it a go." (Although I must admit that the only butterflies I had going for me were in my stomach and not of the swimming style variety!)

Briody (our 20 something coach) told me to swim 6 lengths of freestyle (front crawl) to warm up. So, I took a breath and started. I made it 2 lengths, then had to stop. "O.K.," she said, "try to only stop for 10 seconds after every 2 laps."

That didn't happen. I stopped at each end to gasp. "O.K., try to only stop for 10 seconds between laps". By this time I was seriously feeling like I had swallowed half the pool. Not a pleasant feeling when you know 400 kids with snotty noses and falling off bandaids had been in the pool the day before! Ten second breaks I thought - are you kidding me? Luckily by this time a few more people had come and she didn't seem to notice as much when my "one Mississippi's" turned into "thirty Mississippi's"! After my "warm-up" she must have decided to take some pity on me because I got to do back crawl and also work using the kick board. At least on those laps I didn't have to have my face in the water and I could actually breathe.

But, then it was back to front crawl. With some guy now sharing a lane with me, my "I am woman" competitive streak starting coming back, and I would not let myself give up. So, after 50 minutes of pain, my face was beat red but it was over. Only 9 more weeks to go... yikes!

After I drug myself out of the pool, all I could think was, "Thank God I didn't sign up for the Bribie Island Triathlon this weekend!" Even though the lifeguards here are not unattractive, it would have been embarrassing to be rescued.

So, I've committed to hauling myself to the pool every Friday morning. I figure I can only go up from here. And in a country with sharks in the water - I don't want to be the slowest!

Happy Birthday Mom!

Today (Oct. 16th) is my Mom's birthday. So here's a special "shout out" to you Mom!

Although I may have a personal bias, I think my Mom is the best mom out there. Actually, I'm not the only one who agrees - she was chosen as one of the top 10 moms in Calgary a couple years ago in Vibe 98.5's Mother's Day contest.

Today, I would like to give my Mom a gift of thanks.

Mom, I want to thank you for always being there for Robb and I, and our families.

I want to thank you for being such a kind, considerate, and warm person.

I want to thank you for being the kind of person who would offer help to anyone, without expecting anything in return.

I want to thank you for being the kind of parent we knew would love us no matter what, but who also instilled in us the desire to be the best we could be.

I want to thank you for your vibrant energy - you're like the Energizer Bunny who never stops moving.

I want to thank you for being the kind of Mom/Granny who never ends a conversion without saying "I love you".

I want to thank you for being the kind of Granny who treasures time with her grandkids and whose grandkids know she would do anything for them.

I want to thank you for being the kind of Mom whom I can call when things go wrong, but also the person I most want to call when things go great.

I want to thank you for always making us feel special, for guiding us without judging us, and for making us believe we could do anything.

I want to thank you for your friendship, your great wit and sense of humour, and for always being my cheerleader!

I want to thank you for showing me what a strong, smart, funny, and compassionate woman can accomplish. (That's you Mom!)

I hope you have an amazing day! I love you!

Stop Me before I Volunteer!

I have a button - you know the kind you pin on your shirt, backpack, or whatever. It has a picture of one of those perky 1960s women on it and says "Stop me before I volunteer again!" I received it as a gift from a friend who likes to tease me about my inability to say "no". Well, today I should have been wearing it. I think I lost it in the move....

My day's volunteer extravaganza actually started last night. Jack's Prep class (what they call kindergarten here) cooks on Thursdays. They were looking for volunteers for October and I thought, "hey, why not?" Since they don't really go all out for Halloween in Australia, I thought Halloween cookies would be a big hit with the kids. Today was my day to cook. I was worried because we wouldn't have time to refrigerate the dough after mixing it, so I made a batch ahead of time. That way I could pull a Rachael Ray-like switcharoo and "ta da" perfect cookie dough. But once I made the first batch, I worried that there wasn't enough for 24 kids, so I made another. Never mind that the recipe said one batch would yield 6 dozen cookies - I did not want to be short cookie dough with a bunch of ravenous "Preppies" looking on.

So, this morning I put on my Halloween spider shirt, filled a toy cauldron with ghost, Frankenstein, witch, pumpkin, and bat cookie cutters, and lugged all the ingredients to the school. Jack was over the moon about me coming to cook. I was happy he was happy, but really I was also feeling nervous. While I knew that it was unlikely a bunch of 5 and 6 year olds would swear at me, I still thought it could be "Hell's Kitchen." Let's face it - cooking with your own kids entails patience and a mop. Cooking with three groups of eight children was going to be a little daunting! (Did I mention that there are only 6 girls in the class?)

While the teacher got the kids settled into their start of morning routine, I set out the ingredients and checked my cooking space. It was going to be tight, one mini kids' table and a toaster oven. Well, I'd make it work.

The first group got started late as the kitchen also served as a change room for the other class's swimming lessons. When I did finally get them around the table, I made the rookie mistake of showing them the cookie cutters first. I could have added spinach to the recipe and some of the boys wouldn't have noticed. But, in the end, Jack's group did pretty well mixing up the dough, only getting a small amount of flour on themselves. They cut out their shapes and I managed to get the cookies out of the toaster oven unburnt. After another delay (a Grade 3 buddy project), I got the second group organized. By this time we only had time to roll out the actual dough (that goodness I brought plenty) and cut out their cookies. Well seven kids with nothing to do but wait for their turn to use the rolling pin wasn't going well, so I through caution to the wind and let them fight over the cookie cutters again. With only 10 minutes left before their class had swimming I sat the last group down, gave each a turn with the rolling pin (luckily no one used it as a weapon) and managed to shove the last batch into the oven. I'm sure it was not a Martha Stewart moment for anyone, but heck, all they were interested in was when they could eat one. They didn't care what went into them, or learning about measurements, or anything educational - they were hungry!

Frankly, that should have been the end of my volunteer day. But no... I had also signed up a few weeks before to help with their swimming class. Down I went with my new little friends to the school pool. I had been told that I probably wouldn't have to go into the pool but to come in my "togs" a.k.a "swimmers" a.k.a "swim suit." Unfortunately when we got down there the gym teacher announced that she would appreciate some help and if you had a suit on, jump in! Great! Out of twelve parents (yes, twelve) only two of us had on our togs. At least the pool was warm.

Again, I wish I would have stopped myself there, but no.....

I went home, grabbed a English muffin for lunch, changed out of my suit, and went back to the school for Caitlyn's swimming class. At least with a Grade 3 class, they didn't really need much help changing and I didn't have to go in the pool this time. All I had to do was calm my daughter down (she had an ant crawl onto her face right before and was somewhat hysterical - guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree with her dislike of creepy crawlies), check off the roll call list, and chat with the two other moms there.

It was a wild day, and I will probably (never say never) do three volunteering stints in a row again, but it was worth it. Caitlyn and Jack are only going to want me at their school for a couple more years. When they're older they will make me stay home or drop them off a block away. So, guess I until then... I'd better ignore the button.

The Crocodile Hunter

O.k., I've had my first reptile moment in Australia. I knew it would come sooner or later. I've seen snakes at the zoos here and the occasional lizard at the more wooded parks, but I had yet to actually encounter a creature inside my own house! I didn't like it!!!! Before any of you start worrying about my well-being, it was not a brown snake (venomous ones) or even a poisonous spider. Instead it was a green striped gecko that somehow wandered in and destroyed my afternoon's tranquility.

I was innocently minding my own business, when I saw a little thing by the step. I was about to pick it up, thinking Jack had left his little toy crocodile on the floor when I saw it wink at me. I'm sure the neighbours next door heard me squeal!!

I knew Jack would think the gecko was too cute and ask "Mom, could we keep it?" - but seeing it in my house gave me a major case of the willies. It's like when you hear there's lice going around in your kid's school - you automatically start itching. The idea of some reptile roaming freely around my house, who could at any moment dart out at me, was too much!

Bravely, I tried to get it to run to the door by stomping my feet - but it couldn't get over the step. I thought those things had sticky feet and could climb anything? Not my gecko! Instead my maneuvers backfired and the thing started running towards me. Clearly, I was not channelling Steve Irwin "Crocodile Hunter".

I had to leave for an appointment but I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep if it was still in the house. I had pictures of waking up to a gecko on my head! Having no luck corralling the dumb thing into a container, I finally managed to cover it with a garbage can. So I left him (or her, I didn't check!) confined to quarters. I ignored my urge to call Paul. Later, when I returned, the gecko was thankfully still under the can. I gathered up my courage, opened the garage door, slid a piece of paper under the can, picked it all up, and RAN! I nearly made it out of the garage before the gecko escaped, but this time my foot stamping made it run away from me and into the great outdoors. Again, I was squealing the whole time!!

I'm not even sure if geckos are classified as reptiles but I don't care. While my brain knows they are small, harmless, and even good to have around (they eat mosquitoes) it still freaked me out.

So give me the "wall of death" around my house, thank you very much. I like my reptiles behind glass!

Mommy Yell-est

My name is Jenny Huizinga and I yell at my kids. O.k., there, I've admitted it. I don't yell everyday, but it happens. And I am not proud of it.

I don't start out yelling. It usually goes like this:

"Honey, please go put your shoes on."

"Honey, put your shoes on, please."

"Please go get your shoes on."

"Go get your shoes on now please."

"Your shoes!"

"Get your shoes on!!"

"What are you doing??? Get your shoes on now!!!"

You get the picture. By the end there is no "honey" and certainly no "please". And by then, my daughter or son is in a foul mood, and so am I. Plus, I also get to feel guilty about the whole encounter. Often, during the actual yelling part, I have sort of an out-of-body experience. It's like I am floating above, seeing myself hollering, all the while thinking - hmmmm.... this doesn't seem to be working. Unfortunately, even though the good me can see that the yelling me is being counter-productive, it's hard to make the real me take a breathe and go to my "happy place."

Am I the only mom in the world who yells? I doubt it. (Thanks to TLC I'm sure there's footage of Kate Gosselin yelling at her brood). But it still makes you feel a little like Mommy Dearest when you do have those moments. How do you stop? That's that the million dollar question.

As much as I'd like to think that if my kids would just listen to me all would be well, that's just not realistic. It's a mother's pipe dream. I hate to admit it, but I'm part of the problem. When I sit down and analyze my peak yelling periods, it usually coincides with us being late for something or in a hurry to be somewhere.

One of the moms from Caitlyn's class told me that she had a new mantra for parenting - "hurry is the enemy of love". The idea that I could be hurting those I love by always rushing them hit me hard. How many times a day do we tell our kids to hurry up? I know I say it a lot! Sometimes I'm even the reason we're hurrying - letting them sleep in so I can get some housework done first, talking to my Mom on Skype, searching for my keys. Does all this rushing get us anywhere? Not really.

After yelling at the kids to get their shoes and backpacks on, and rushing them off to school, Caitlyn was early and Jack's class hadn't even started. In Jack's class no one even noticed we were late. All that was accomplished was tears, frustration, and a future requirement for psychological counselling. But seriously, none of us was "feeling the love" and that's not good. God forbid if anything happened to one of us, I wouldn't want my last words to be ones of admonishment, especially about something as silly as shoes.

From now one, I'll work on limiting the use of the words "hurry up" in my vocabulary and remember that the world will not end if we are late. And if I do lose it - at least I'm not on reality T.V.!