no fair!

Reilly's lunch: Crepes. A decadent stretchy, flour-y, BUTTERY masterpiece with sugar on top! (Please note her Obama pin. She wears it every single day.)

Why God?

(Oh, in case you were wondering, I was left to eat a bag o'salad while gazing at her little piece of heaven.)

do yourself a favor...

...and eat an entire paddle of this chocolate before you die:


Todd, life-long health nut who treats himself to a stalk of wheatgrass for dessert, and is an infuriating size small, has a fascinating weakness for the candy at Grocery Outlet. He doesn't really buy anything else there, save for obscure frozen entrees that I would never touch (braised gluten clumps with mystery sauce). But he comes homes with BAGS of gourmet chocolate in every variety. Now, being that I don't like chocolate, I am fairly immune to the appeal of these bags, but yesterday I discovered the miracle pictured above. First I nibbled one square, and then I plowed through man, woman, and child to get my hands on the rest. It was a smooth, coconutty heaven, and I ate the entire package. T remarked later that there is actually no chocolate in this product, which might explain its intoxicating effect. Nevertheless, I am here to extol its virtues and demand that everyone try it. Just do me a favor and buy it somewhere other than Grocery Outlet, for I've asked T to go buy them out after work.

a toast

(That's a tiny roma tomato for perspective.)

As many of you know, B and I joined a gym recently, and have been working our asses off in hopes meeting a specific July weight goal. To augment this regimen, and in B's case, because of diabetes, we've sworn off all delicious-tasting food, in favor of low-carb, low-taste things such as hay and spinach. One thing I am allowed is a piece of Oroweat Best toast, with Adam's peanut butter, and a banana sliced on top. This has become a favorite of mine because, let's face it, bananas are sweet, and this option far outweighs the horse food cereal or a Kashi waffle rock with a drizzle of wanna-be maple syrup.

We've been working out every chance we get, and even got in some good time last night, dashing into the club at the last minute. I went to bed hungry and was really looking forward to my pb & banana toast this morning. So, imagine if you will, the depth of my sadness to discover that the shriveled-up grandma heel of bread was the only piece left. After I toasted it, and it shrank to half its size, I spread a teaspoon of pb on it, and then sliced eight pieces of banana onto it, whereas a normal slice of toast holds an entire banana. I sat down to eat and found myself glaring at this meager meal, but ultimately, ate it in one bite and began the countdown to lunch, which I might add, will be early today.

what begins with B?

An excellent speller though I may be, I am a shitty cook. For real. My life is a series of cleverly planned encounters wherein I and my poor children can benefit from someone else's cuisine. That is, when Todd's not home. He is the cook around here. I confess to allowing Quinn and Reilly more mac & cheese than they ought, and I have bent "moderation" beyond recognition where fast food is concerned. I just hate cooking. I can never think of anything, despite having a refrigerator full of wonderful, mostly organic, options.

Enter B. When she's not cooking for my pitiful ass outright, she is helping me see what I have, and how it can all be combined to make delicious meals, albeit simple ones, because I am retarded. (I know I'm not supposed to say retarded, but I mean it in its intended use as opposed to its malicious use.) ANYWAY, she has taught me to make several delightful snacks, and I made one today. I used leftover bell peppers, onions, and zucchini from the other night, and cooked them up in a pan. I then placed them atop a baked potato, and a little cheese. Lemme tell ya, for a mama who's used to eating mac & cheese from a ladle, this is heaven. (And likely the closest I'll ever get.)


Please don't look closely at my plate. Despite its distinct WalMart chic pattern, I do not have geese in my kitchen. As ever, I am sorry if you do, and are offended.

Thanks B. What am I having for dinner?