Once Upon A Time

... there was a hooah who got shit done.  Or at least as much shit as one can get done with a toddler up her ass all day.  But then one day that hooah discovered a magical world called Pinterest, and she was never heard from again.  The end.

Is it bad that right now all I want is to send my family away on vacation so I can stay here and do nothing but pin things all day?  And night?  I'd never get up except to make coffee.  Probably not even to pee.  I could just have a stack of puppy pads next to me.

So new rule:  No cardio, No Pinterest!  Except on the weekends.  Cardio can suck a giant dick on the weekends.  So the weekend rule is:  No laundry, No Pinterest!  I hate doing laundry.  Chores are supposed to have a beginning and an end.  You scrub, dust, vacuum, and mop, and for however short a window it lasts, at least it's DONE.  But unless everyone in the house is planning to go buck naked for at least a day, laundry is NEVER done.  There are always the clothes on your back to worry about for next time.  It's the song that never ends, and it just goes on and on, my friends.  Kind of like Pinterest.

I had to make a quick trip to the grocery yesterday, because I forgot a bunch of crap when I went the day before.  That's what happens when I don't make a list.  I get all indignant and think, "I don't need no stinkin' list," and I'm convinced my awesome brain will remember everything.  But then the reality of shopping with two kids sets in (full of Up! Up! Up!'s and Hey, Mom! Guess WHAT?'s) and I'm too busy trying not to have a nervous breakdown to remember we're out of toilet paper.  So back to the store we went.  You know your life is no longer your own when your choice of which grocery store to frequent revolves not around their food selection, but the quality of their suped-up kid carts.  You know, the kinds with steering wheels and stuff?  That's what I was after yesterday.  My daughter loves them, and they make the whole experience less traumatic for all involved.  The game of finding said cart is on like Donkey Kong as soon as I hit the parking lot, because I know there are a limited supply, and because most of the time these precious carts are sitting in some cart corral out in the butt fuck Egypt region of the lot.  Can you picture me weaving up and down the aisles, scoping things out?  Ridiculous.  I spotted another mom with a coveted cart, and she was unloading her last few bags into her SUV.  SCORE!  I pulled into a spot a few spaces down, and as soon as she parked that puppy in the corral, I had my son hop out and guard it.  (Even as I type, I'm shaking my head thinking how absurd this all is. ) I grabbed my daughter out of the car and went to strap her in.  No straps.  Awesome.  But whatever, she's usually pretty good about sitting down in it, because she's so excited about the dual steering wheels.  And then I notice one of the steering wheels is missing.  And the remaining one is the most wobbly-ass thing I've ever seen.  I begin to have doubts, but I decide to hang on to the cart until we get inside, hoping there will be a better option available.  No such luck.  But baby girlfriend was still content, so I pushed that hoopty piece-of-shit through the whole store.  And every time I saw another mom with a non-hoopty version, I couldn't help thinking, "Bitch." 

Dinner put me in a MUCH happier place.  I made a take on Aarti Sequeira's Bombay Sloppy Joes.  They taste a lot like regular sloppy joes, but with some Indian flare.  Garam Masala, chiles, pistachios, raisins, honey, cilantro... the recipe is amazing.  I used ground turkey breast and less oil to keep things light.  And instead of serving it as sandwiches, I did butter lettuce cups and wedges of whole wheat naan bread.  I also roasted some zucchini and Japanese egglplant (tossed in olive oil, garam masala, and salt & pepper).  For a side salad I made Aarti's massaged kale salad.  It's thuper thimple, and it holds up really well if you want to make it ahead of time.  I added a little parsley, cilantro, and mint since I had some on hand.

Here's what Jake's plate looked like.

He destroyed it.  Our son even enjoyed it, chiles and all!  The pistachios and raisins really make it.  You should make it, so you can taste for yourself.  Or bring yo' ass to Hawaii so I can make it for you.