The Saga Continues….

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My daughter has a friend…who is a boy. They have regular play dates each week. This makes me happy and fucking scared at the same time. If this continues through high school and college, I may have already met my future son-in-law. But hey, there could be worse prospects for this position.


Armed Apocalypse Patrols

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“As the days wear on, the troops grow more and more restless. Rumors from outside the school walls spark hope of the afterschool program re-starting next week. This small spark of hope is, at least, something to hold on to. Until we get certified proof that the program will resume, Theo will continue armed apocalypse patrols on the golf cart with “Shoe Cheese”. Thank you, Brandi (aka Mom)”

And A Bottle Saying “Drink Me” In The Other

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I have somehow found myself falling deep into the rabbit hole of the Paleo world. I know, I know, welcome to the club, mother fucker. When I first started on this little journey, I wasn’t quite prepared for what was in store for me. There’s so much preparation and attention to detail that goes into strange and bizarre ingredients. Give me some chicken, bread crumbs, bacon, and spinach and I’ll whip up something tasty for you. Now I’m faced with things like fennel, miso paste, and more almond products than I ever thought possible. If you’re allergic to nuts, run the fuck away from anything Paleo because you’ll probably die. I’m serious, the Paleo world is pure nuts. Along with this venture because I’m a gluten for punishment I decided to get a lot of my recipes from vegan cookbooks. I figured if Paleo means no dairy or wheat, than vegan should go along nicely.

For some reason my kids have decided they want to jump down this rabbit hole with me. So here we all are, in Wonderland, wondering what exactly the caterpillar is trying to tell us as we hold up a bit of mushroom in one hand, and a bottle saying “drink me” in the other. Because I was a little worried what the other playground moms would think hesitant to let my kids do the whole Paleo thing, I started them off slow. I first doubled their fruit and vegetable intake, my daughter now clogs the toilet at least once a week, and then I added almond milk. The small boy now pours himself glasses of almond milk, just because. I really tried to keep the recipes as close to what they were used to as possible. Grilled chicken and veggies, steak and veggies…protein and veggies… protein… protein… veggie… veggie… veggie. Fruit, fruit, FRUIT! No more wheat, no more dairy (which didn’t last long because well…cheese.) But for the most part, we were pretty much kicking ass and taking names while we shit up a storm!!!

The other night I decided to take off the kid gloves and pack a Paleo punch at dinner time! I had a two pound head of cauliflower sitting in my fridge for one purpose, and one purpose alone…to make vegan mac and cheese After staring at the cauliflower for a few days while debating on packing the punch, I decided to go for it. I was going to make the vegan mac and cheese! My mother had made it for my father (Mr. Steak and Beer) once, and he liked it or he lied to my mother to make her feel better. So I figured, if my father would eat it, I could get my kids as well. The only problem? I didn’t have my mother’s recipe. Dumb ass. So I flipped through my vegan cookbook. I didn’t have all the ingredients. Then I Googled it. I still didn’t have all the ingredients. Time for plan C, wing it and hope the kids don’t rebel.

Anyone who has ever even attempted to so much as “try” vegan cooking knows that “winging it” is not something you necessarily do when first starting out. Unless you’re one of those reality TV cooking competition people. Fuck those people. When you’re trying to re-create something using ingredients that have nothing to do with the “real thing” it can get a bit hairy. However, I live for hairy. Unless it’s on my body, that shit can go. Regardless, I poured myself a glass of wine and ventured further into Wonderland. Let me just say, although this recipe came out more like an “Alfredo” as apposed to a “mac and cheese”, I KILLED IT!!! Mommy made a delicious vegan recipe the kids INHALED!!! *chest bump**pours another glass of wine* *maybe two or three* After posting it all over social media as I tend to do people wanted to know how it turned out, and to share the recipe. So here goes nothing, peeps! Bon appetit!


1 pound fresh cauliflower florets. Not frozen, don’t be a slacker.

1 cup original almond milk

2 cloves fresh garlic

Salt and pepper to taste

1 handful (1/4 cup) raw cashews. Maybe throw in a few more just because…nuts. You might want to whip out your good ol’ slap chop and bust your nuts before adding them into the recipe. I did. *wink wink*

Cut a lemon in half, and SQUEEZE all the juice out.

What to do:

Boil the florets until they are tender, not soft, tender. Drain the water out, and dump them into your blender or food processor. Add the rest of the ingredients, and hit “liquefy”. Don’t have a liquefy option? Puree that bitch until she’s nice and smoooooth. Once you’ve added enough salt and pepper maybe even more garlic and the texture is to your liking, slather your noodles in the creamy goodness you just created. Toss them around a bit, scoop into bowls, and feed that hungry family of yours!

I highly recommend NOT calling this mac and cheese. If you do, your family may rebel, tie you up, and throw you in the river. I mean, do what you want to do, but you really should call this Alfredo. Welcome to Wonderland.


Driving Into The New England Stereotype

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I did it. I hate to admit it, but I did it.

I’ve joined the club of soccer moms, obsessed with their kid’s athletic abilities.

The moms who delay the drop off/pick up process every day at school.

I’ve become a Birkenstock wearing, earth loving, hippie.

Someone who covers every last inch of their bumper with social injustice bumper stickers. Free Tibet! Equality! Legalize medical marijuana! Boring women rarely make history! NPR! Warning, I stop for Goodwill stores!

Move over cautious drivers! This momma is now on the road!

I will no longer be able to park properly in parking lots.

I can now sneer at Honda Pilot drivers.

Finding my car in when coming out of a baseball game will now be impossible without activating the panic button.

Coupled with my short hair, I will now solidify my place in the lesbian community. Thus resulting in never being asked out on a heterosexual date again.

In short, I bought a Subaru. I now fall into all the aforementioned stereotypes, and then some. Despite my need for speed, previous Pilot ownership, and brightly covered tattoos; I am now one of “those” moms. This new purchase has given me the urge to go to the nearest Newbury Comics location and buy up all the Slayer and Anthrax bumper stickers they have in stock. I will have to blast Portishead and Primus albums as I roll through the drop off line in the morning. The struggle is real my friends, and I have thrown myself into the thick of it.