Sneaky McSneakerson: (Kale) Smoothie

On Saturday the smalls were given some chocolate by a well-meaning friend. We're by no means perfect and pure, but I have been trying to remove refined sugars, colours and so on from our pantry - not in a nutty way - just in a 'we don't need this crap in our diet' way -  and replace it with more and more wholefood. 


All afternoon the kids had been in a slow decline, naturally becoming tireder towards the end of the day. (Halleluljah!)


And then they ate the chocolate.


Literally within minutes Tiny was bouncing off the walls. She was back on. I felt so defeated. Deflated. Meanwhile, she was a helium balloon. Up, up and away.


Fast-forward to this afternoon when I thought, I am going to gazump those little kittehs, whip up a knock-out Vitamix smoothie that they love to love.


I chucked in the following for a delicious smoothie that the Doctor rated as the highlight of his day (high-five!). Just wait 'til you see what I snuck in there:


1 x banana
1 x cup mixed berries (frozen)
2 apples
1 tablespoon of honey
1 small handful of kale. YES KALE! 


Blitz. Serve to two small children - and they will never know the kale is in there. Scout's honour. 


I was so stoked to find kale at my fruit and veg today. The lady at the shop I think was a little bewildered by my excitement - I've been trawling all the local shops looking for it.  It's in season now folks, and is super duper good for you. Get into it! 

Hell-o:: Date Night

It's been a long time between date nights, and thankfully my FIL stepped in and babysat for us so we could spend some very much needed, very overdue time together.

Matt and I headed to the Northern Beaches, following the re(a)d hot tip off by Briar of Sunday Collector that Mexicano was the shiz.

We'd tried to go there a week ago, turned up at 5:50pm - and were DENIED! Fully booked. So there's a red hot tip for you friends, you must book a table or you will drive all the way unhappy, unfed, and unMexicano'd and a big fat fail whale will greet you at the door.

We had such a blast, and I had one too many mojitos. Ouch. You know when it's fun at the time, then you go - oh dear, I had to take it that one step further. Yep. That's me. And in the morning - aye carumba. I even succumbed to my age-old hangover cure that I've not used in almost eight years, Coke with a bazillion slices of lemon. It was that bad.

But ANYHOOOOOOO - the beverages - they were not bad at all. I can't deny it. And the food - fresh, taste-a-licious, I'd do it again in a flash.

Mexicano

Shop 2

209-211 Ocean Street
Narrabeen

Make your bookings peeps - 9970 8975

Conversation At Dinner

At dinner tonight the Doctor and I were talking. I mentioned that he might like sushi.

His response? "No thanks Mum, I don't like Italian food."

image via

Yowser!

I work in the middle of nowhere, and if I don't take my lunch I have to rely on the mercy of co-workers to take me somewhere, or the vending machine. This is ugly peeps. Real ugly. I don't even like junk food really. I never seek out chips. I do like chocolate. But the vending machine?? YOWSER! My belly it runneth over. Ok it doesn't really, but it has potential. After reading these stats, I'm re-evaluating the snack-a-roos!

Speaking of being a little generous in form, did you know Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution is heading to Australia?

Salad Days

Since my inbox has been flooded* with readers crying, more! more! - I've decided to adhere to the requests. Enter another salad day.

Another riveting episode of my salad days. I am the one most likely to skip lunch. I make the kids lunch, have a bite of theirs, then get lost in other things I have to get done. I do it all the time, and by the afternoon I am spiralling out of control eating anything sweet that I think I might deserve. No more I cry!

Today salad with cous cous, shredded chicken, baby spinach, tomato, dutch carrots, shallots, celery, hommus and lotsa lotsa coriander (cilantro if you're in the Americas).

* It was really just one or two kind comments saying they liked seeing lunches. So here is another of mine. Sisters, you can pick yourselves up off the floor and stop laughing now!

Dinosaur Bags & Runch

The Doctor's dino infatuation is in full swing. He was telling me about his woes in life. Such as the fact that he didn't have a box to store his ever-growing collection of dinosaurs. I offered to make him a bag, which, if you're a long-time reader, you'll know - big mistake-io. Firstly, I am so slow at sewing, and he's already been asking why I haven't made it yet. Why haven't I made it yet? Because I am in the midst of stitching myself a badge that reads: Slow Stitcher. But I'm so slow I haven't even started on that yet. I have a backlog people.

So I'd better be popping Tiny into bed and get stitching because the small-big boy will be asking, no doubt, once again.

And here's where my lunch comes in. Fresh bread toasted with dijon (oh dijon how I love thee, let me count the ways!) and ham. Over-sized salad with Dutch carrots. I've only just cottoned on to how great the Dutchies are. Big carrots, we are O-V-E-R!

Tiny likes to runch with me. This year, we'll runch together. It's part of my 2010 plan. No more skipping lunch.

And now I'll just wait for my sisters to pay me out about the lunch post. Yep, you're right. I. Have. Nothing. To. Tell. You.

PS - Georgie Love has a super giveaway. Get over there!

PPS - I think the way I wrote my post about Where I'm At may have been a little inadvertently deceptive. I am back to goal weight, but it was starting to creep again, my muffin top was rising. Hence the huge salad above.

Blogtoberfest Day 11: ARGH!

I had a tippity top day today catching up with a girlfriend for lunch. On the menu, tomato salad with baby beetroot, fetta, walnuts, parsley = yum! Followed by a pecan + raspberry tart, hello, I'm in paradise. Feed me more Seymour, more!

And then I came back to find the smalls were still squabbling over le Bunbun (who coincidentally, and unfortunately has not yet been named), with the Doctor trying to cover him and Tiny inadvertently squashing him. Eeek!

When really, all I have to say is, I have nothing to say. Except this is a common sight at our house these days.

The Queen's Birthday: Long Weekend

I love a long weekend. Particularly when it involves family dos. Today we had a picker nicker at Balmoral. Another incredible Winter day. Playing on the beach. Digging in the sand. First tastes of fish and chips. Coffees from the hole in the wall. Hours in the sunshine. Catching up with cousins.

I am pooped to the max. After the picker nicker we quickly whizzed off to our friend's fourth birthday, and then home again, home again - jiggety jig. I am pooped. Bed - here I come.

Regular PMM programming will resume tomorrow. Until then.

Stamina

What happened to me? Once upon a time I used to go dancing on tables, night after night. Eat pizza lying on the couch with my best friend. Drink a cup of conversation for lunch. And be ready to do it all over again. Week after week after week. I like to think I was party personified.

But please note, all of the above is written in past tense.

I have to tell you - I am completely knackered. My back aches. My head is tired. I just want to curl up in bed. Is this normal after two birthdays in three days? Or am I just going soft? I'm not even thirty yet.

We spent yesterday morning at the aquarium, and then raced home so I could bake.

And bake I did. Oh and I haven't even told you about how I picked up a baking dish that had been in the oven for 20 minutes at 230 degrees. With. My. Bare. Hands. I didn't mean to bake my own damn hands. That's for shiz. Needless to say, I am sporting some very, very achey breaky sore hands today.

Please get out the world's smallest violin and play a little solo for me.

The worst thing is, I still am not even remotely organised for the par-tay on Saturday. I've barely done a scratch. Someone, send me Martha Stewart. Someone, send me my old stamina.

I've vaguely worked out the menu (thankfully the party is in the afternoon so I have a little more time up my sleeve).

In fact, gulp, I am madly looking for a tiger costume for the Doctor to wear, because his party theme is party animals. Talk about lastminute.com. Straitjacket? Sedatives? Gurney? All sounds good right about now.

Nevertheless, cake was consumed last night, and the Doctor decorated his own. A highlight of the day to be sure, to be sure.

PS - How cool is she? Going to any Sydney Writer's Festival events? Do tell!

Confessions: Guilty Fantasy

I have a guilty confession. It's not that I am mad for cheese. I do like cheese, but I wouldn't go to the end of the Earth to eat cheese. I am more of a sweet tooth. I sneak chocolate. I do not sneak cheese.

But this brings me to a guilty fantasy. I've been thinking about it for a while now, my fantasy. Though I think if it were to come to fruition, it really wouldn't be quite as good as I think it might be.

You see, I love love love toasted cheese sandwiches. Who doesn't? But the fact is, I think I like the cheese that escapes the sandwich more than the sandwich itself. You know when it sizzles on the hotplate and that taste - my goodness - that taste. I've been deliberately loading my sandwiches with too much cheese just to ensure I get to enjoy that melty cheese.

Which brings me to my fantasy. I have been thinking about just putting cheese on the hot plate and cooking it. I've never actually done it, but man oh man, I daydream about how good that melty, slightly burnt cheese would taste. There now. I've said it.

Speaking of cheese. Have I ever told you how much I love crank calls?

School Lunches

I ate Vegemite sandwiches almost every single day of my school life. From Kindergarten to Year 12. I loved them. My Mum tried to mix things up a bit by making celery and cheese sandwiches - which invariably got all hot and sweaty by lunch time, and became largely unedible. I don't like sweaty sandwiches. And I have to say, celery sandwiches are a little unorthodox in my book too.

When I was older I got a job to help pay my bills (read: so I could go to the canteen whenever I wanted), to bankroll my own dream lunches.

I never ordered. I was never that organised at high school. Truth be, I never wanted what was on order. I didn't dig on the potato pies. Or the meat pies. Or the fishburgers. Yikes! Instead I liked to see what fate threw at me that day. Usually, I ate an apple pie for lunch. A chelsea bun. I know both my sisters loved those buns too (and I'm not referring to the PE teacher if you know what I mean).

School lunches were where the social side of school played out. You know, who were you going to sit with, were you going to brave going down the back, did the rough kids throw food at you as you walked past (thanks for the apple that hit me in the head that time), handball for the Year Sevens, Year Eights were too cool to be seen doing anything, Year Nines were dodging Year 10s and so on. Sometimes lunches were spent watching the boys play football/basketball. Sometimes we made daisy chains. Sometimes we hung out in the library. I liked books. (I still go to the library.) And for some, lunchtime was canoodling time. Or rather, it was make up or break up time. But not for me. Nope. I liked chatting with my friends, hanging out in the darkroom, and surprise, surprise, eating lunch. And talking on a Walkie Talkie to friends in a different building. Mobile phones were not around, or they were, but heck - who can fault a Walkie Talkie?

Year 12 meant less and less school lunches, and more of a drive home and bunker in to study (or Oprah) for the afternoon. Or afternoons with our drama class rehearsing. Or working on our final art projects. Or just hanging out in the common room (I hated that room. It always smelt like sweaty boys and afternoons of studying history). And then the era of my school lunches ended.

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Proof Easter Is Coming

On one of our afternoon walks this week the Doctor, Tiny and I spotted not one, but two rabbits. One was in someone's garden, just hanging out on the lawn. The other (b&w beauty) was hopping about the front lawn - and we often see him on the other side of the road, obviously these are his digs. We love the bunnies!

For me, Easter is a really beautiful time of year. That crisp Autumn air. New life. Too much chocolate. Lazy lunches. Unfortunately that was tainted a little for me when Matt and I first met. We visited one of his cousin's houses for lunch on Easter Sunday. My first 'family' meeting. I was thinking, how bad can this go? Well, unfortunately I was surprised. They served rabbit pie. How wrong is that? I gagged my way through, and ate one mouthful, oh heinous food, and pushed it 'round on my plate. Hideous. The thought still makes me sick to my stomach. I think they thought it was wonderfully witty serving rabbit pie and saying it was the Easter Bunny. I just thought it was wrong. Sheesh. Thanks for the welcome.

So here's a hostess tip for you: if you don't want to ruin Easter for everyone (for years to come - feeling nauseous just thinking about it), do not serve rabbit pie. EVER.

I Bought A Piece of Linen

Amazing isn't it? That I didn't just find a piece of nice linen lying on the side of the road? Not this time. Maybe another time. But for now, I settled for a remnant of this linen which feels luverly.

I'm just stitching with no finished project in mind. Just stitching. Just me and my floss and needle with nowhere to go.

I've been absent from around these parts. It's true. All I have to say is: I scream, you scream we all scream for ice cream.

Detention! The 2 for 1 post.

Pre-school for the Doctor is awesome. He loves it. There's been no tears, just pure unbridled excitement. He digs it in a solid gold kinda way. He doesn't know any names yet, but that's soon to change. Once we're there, he is in the zone and plays, barely even looking up to say goodbye. It's ace. The Doctor is really hitting his stride. And when I pick him up he is thrilled to see me (of course, who wouldn't be?) and talks non-stop about what he has done for the day.

Pre-school for me however... Well I feel as though I am borderline detention. Every time - and I am not fibbing - every single time I have dropped him off, I get a rap over the knuckles for something. Usually - food.

It's not that I send the Doctor with junk food. No siree. He goes with a fruit salad, yoghurt, sometimes homemade biscuits, a sandwich, vegetable sticks, more fruit, you dig? (Remember when you helped me with all those ace ideas??) They asked me last week if I could pack them a banquet lunch. So no, it's not the food that's the problem.

It's apparently the way I pack it.

There are four different places to put food.

Morning tea - fridge.

Morning tea - non-fridge.

Lunch - fridge.

Lunch - non-fridge.

I sort out the food on arrival, every time I am in the midst of doing so one of the Doctor's teachers comes over to tell me: please put them in a bag together; that container's too big; does this really need to be refrigerated?; oh yes that watermelon is leaking; can you not put the Doctor's lunch in that bag - he can't open it.

Ah yes, I love always feeling like such a numbskull. Over a lunchbox. Believe it or not, I do function in society. Hard to believe when I can't even manage to pack my son's lunch correctly, that I actually held down a full time job. Incredible, I know.

So this brings me to sewing last night. I whizzed to Spotlight yesterday and picked up some cottons and sewed up some bags for morning tea and lunch. Et voila! The watermelon still leaks but at least it's in a bag now.

In case you're wondering - in lieu of making lunch bags, I gave up the opportunity to finish up my top (which incidentally is a VERY expensive top given how much time I have spent on it).

Here ends my rant for today.

Empty Lunchboxes = Hungry Tummies

Given the Doctor is starting pre-school next week, I've been giving lunchboxes a bit of thought. A lot of thought actually.

I've got the basics covered off, fruit, yoghurt, sandwiches - all the usual suspects, but I'm looking for something a little more exciting to start serving up for the small fry. And the lunchboxes have a pre-requisite of being healthy, nutritional, low in salt and not too sugary...

What are some nifty little things you include in your kidlins lunchboxes?

I'm thinking mini-muffins, maybe some ANZAC biscuits, popcorn, carrot/celery sticks & dip... Gimme gimme gimme some ideas. I know there's a whole world of goodness out there.

Blueberries & Blackbirds

My baby loves to eat blueberries. I'm not just talking a couple here and there. I give her a few, she gobbles them up. Then sits there pointing at the other blueberries that are just out of her reach, and if I don't see her pointing, she screeches at me. She's on a punnet a day habit.

Like one of my friends said yesterday, she's going to live 'til she's 900 on all those anti-oxidants. Damn fools, the girl sure does love blueberries.

We've not been doing much. It's so hot. Our air-con has gone - poof!- it's not working, so we're best friends with the fans, and sitting very, very still. I've even taking to going to large shopping centres purely to enjoy their air-conditioning.

Yesterday we went for a post-storm swim. The rain was even cold. Strangely, there was steam coming off the footpath following the short stretch of rain. It's too damn hot.

Here are a list of other things it's too damn hot for:

- baking - no amount of oven time is currently acceptable

- scarves - no, no, no - strictly no scarves

- jeans - eek - jeans are not sweltering weather-wear
- hot food - we're into anything served cold

- too much physical activity - we're strictly slothing it at the mo'

As for The Doctor, I find him sneaking out of his bedroom after bedtime. I find him looking out our kitchen door into the trees. He turns to me and says, "Mum, look at that beautiful bird." I look up and see a big, black crow, resplendent in his feathers. It's Summer here and the city is hot.

This Is...

Cebu Mangoes

Originally uploaded by Farl

Can I say mangoes? I love mangoes. It's mango season here. Nothing like standing over the sink with mango juice running down your chin, your arms, and that sweetness. Ah the sweetness - that first taste of mango for the season. It's addictive. It hits you. That mango love. Ah for a mango, I'd do almost anything. Just don't mix it with anything savoury - eeek - no no no, mangoes served as they are, perfect for me.

I ate one a day in the latter stages of my pregnancy with the Doctor. You'd think he'd be a fool for mangoes too - but at the moment, he's more of a strawberry kind of guy. But Tiny. Well she's a sucker for mangoes. She loves grabbing at that slippery piece of sweetness. Shoving it in her mouth - uh oh - missed, try again. Oh man, she loves the mangoes, just like her mango-lovin' mama.

This week's theme was chosen by the very clever Beth at cloth and fodder. Thanks to Angela at three buttons for hosting this is.

Day Trippers: Solid Gold in Nundle

plenty of room for little boys to run and ask birds their name. no, seriously, he did.

We headed out to Nundle (after my early-ish op shopping hoorah - to which I bought a couple of things that I will photograph tomorrow, and certainly not the vintage sequinned cocktail dress I had been dreaming of) this morning.

For those that don't know or have never heard of Nundle, it's a small gold-mining town.

Population: 289

It's a 45 minute drive from Tamworth (where I grew up) on a well-sealed road.

You can read more about Nundle here.

Nundle, over the past ten or so years, has enjoyed a wonderful renaissance. It's a quaint little town with a few quirks. Endearing of course.

They have a corner pub - The Peel Inn (pivotal to any small, super-small town). In one room hangs the freakish double-headed calf. Savoury. The pub has recently undergone a restoration and serves lunch (word-of-mouth says it's not bad).

Next stop is a small shop that sells grocery items but not diggers. Much to the disgust of my small fry.

And just next door is The Powder Room run by Sarah Atkinson, a boutique of bright, bold and stylish women's fashion. It's here that my Mum found a graphic kaftan and I bought some banana yellow drop earrings. You know how I love yellow. Lots of fantastic jewellery, and beautiful leather bags at very reasonable prices.

A little further up is Jenkins Guest House set in an old bank. This is where I celebrated my 21st birthday with my family. It's going through a bit of a transition as they've just lost their long-time chef Nick Cummins who was stellar (Nick was a one-hatted chef with SMH - he's just moved to Hobart, lucky Hobart - because damn fool, he's good).

The Nundle Woollen Mill is a very short walk up the road. They make beautiful wool on vintage machinery here. Some days you can see the work in progress, from the gallery above. As well, they sell locally knitted goodies - such as the cutest beanies, jumpers, socks and sell Australian made fashion (Jac+Jack, MapleBrown etc) from Merino wool. Though on a day like today (around 30 degrees) it wasn't entirely conducive to trying on or buying warm woollies. But it was nice to look at all those colours and textures.

Just nearby are the Nundle Country Traders set in a shed-like building. There are a few vintage bits and pieces to be found in here, but today, there was not a lot going on. Except for that cool sign.

Then onto Odgers & McLelland Exchange Stores, one of my all time favourites. Walking in here is like walking into Little House on the Prairie. Kind of. There are boiled lollies sitting on the counter in over-sized jars alongside old-style wind-up tin toys in an old glass cabinet on the counter, millet brooms, dustpans and gardening goods hanging from the rafters at the front of the store, then there's their own range of teas, plus enamelware, all types of old-school shaving paraphernalia, wonderful wicker washing baskets, fat slices of soaps sitting with bath salts in calico bags. Oh it's a delight all right. Plus it's run by a couple who moved from the big smoke ten years ago - and have never looked back. Imagine the chill of excitement that runs through my bones when I hear that deliciousness. Almost a delicious overload!

There's a crazy-full antique store where you're almost too afraid to turn around in case your ponytail knocks something off. Difficult to navigate with a three and a bit year old and a baby in a sling. I didn't stay for long, but if you can linger - there are some good finds (though a little pricey).

And in an old church hall is a second-hand store. I found one thing in here. I'm not even sure what it is, but it's cool fabric. Everything else - pilled jersey.. Ergh... I get goosebumps, and not in a good way.

If you were to visit Nundle in May, you might be lucky enough to be a spectator at the renowned Great Nundle Dog Race.

Otherwise, all year round you can:

- go gold-panning.

- visit Mount Misery Gold Mine Museum (just don't eat there, the food is totally ordinary)

- swap gold (coins) like the miners and settlers of 1891 at the Exchange Store

- learn how fingerlings grow into trout, throw a line to catch dinner or buy the award-winning trout at Arc-en-ciel Trout farm

Nundle is good. It's set in green rolling hills. Perfectly romantic. There's the imagery of bushrangers, bearded gold-panners, miners and the like, wondering what the hey-day of this small-town would have been like. Nundle is a stone's throw from Hanging Rock where it is sometimes known to be sprinkled with snow (in Winter, not this time of year). And for such a small town, is rich in goodness. This is something I could get used to.

So Long Suckers!

You thought this was a post saying I was ending it here, didn't you? That I was going to say I was hanging up my mouse, logging off, never to be heard of again. You did, didn't you?

Well I fooled you all. Aren't I a trickster?

Today I found these great organic lollipops (hence the sucker title - get it, get it?)... And this post was going to be all about them. And then I thought, no I'll post about the tug o' war I have been stuck in this week, and I thought, I'll do some natty kind of segue into a grecian/rope style dress that I like.. But then I googled rope dress - and well, you'll never believe where I wound up - at a bondage website. I quickly skidaddled out of there, and decided that tug o' war was not what I was writing about today.

Instead, I am writing about 'memory making'. I've been thinking a lot about first memories, collecting memories, and memory making opportunities.

Some of my happiest memories from my childhood are playing at my grandparents property and building tee-pee style cubby houses out of large sticks and old branches, in my mind they were impressive. We laid rocks out as a sort of fireplace. We'd have two or three of these stick tee-pee constructions in this little valley near a tiny creek. My sisters I am sure could expand on this, but for me, it was magical. We'd check out what was in the creek, and just the building of the tee-pees was high on the fun stakes. Sometimes when we came back the next morning to check on them the horses had knocked them over. But rebuilding them was part of the charm too.

Another memory is driving around on my grandfather Gramps' knee through a paddock. I must have been about three or four, but I remember feeling such glee at being given the opportunity to 'drive'. I was the youngest, so all the older kids really did get to drive while Gramps sat next to them, but for me to just feel included was a beautiful thing, driving over bumps through the yellow grass - mmmm.

I have so many great memories of growing up. I've been thinking, what makes a memory? What makes your brain hang on to that memory, and every now and then why does your memory bring you back to those places?

This week we've been enjoying the leaf boat races down the creek. Our three and a bit year old has been taking us back to it time and time again (we've been every day since Sunday). I admit, I enjoy it too, and I can see the joy he gets from it too. It's so great to have those opportunities to tap into your inner child.

But what other memories is he going to take with him? Me on the computer trying to get work done double-smart so I can do something else? Me being cranky and tired telling him to stop asking me to play trains? I don't want to be remembered like that.

I'd like to think he'll remember our crazy music sessions, when we turn up the music loud, he drags his music box out and we grab any old instrument and make a great racket. Or baking biscuits and cakes together, while he constantly asks to eat a 'sample' (which turns into half the mix), and watches the Kitchenaid turn 'round and 'round.

Or our impromptu rumble sessions in the mornings on our unmade bed. Or even matching the socks for me while I fold the washing..

My mind keeps coming back to this quote that I found ages ago on someone's blog (I'd credit them if I could) - I can't remember it exactly but it went something like this: 'For those first early years, all your child wants/craves is your attention, but as they grow older the tables turn and we wind up desperate for their attention.' It's so true, and childhood is such a fleeting time, I'd like to make this time as memorable as possible.

So now I'm searching for memory making ideas. Anyone got any ideas to share? Tell me what a memory making moment is for you.

- As an aside - to follow up with Monday's post about buying a lottery ticket - well, it seems that the Universe didn't answer that request. Or at least, maybe me putting it out there only extends to second-hand and found objects, and not cold, hard cash. I didn't win a penny. Not a single one. Therends my idea that my luck was never-ending. Hmph! So our search for a non-mouldy rental house continues. Bah humbug.

PS - My formatting has gone again. Thanks Blogger.

Another Genius Idea - Muffin Tin Monday

I saw this genius idea from Sycamore Stirrings on The Crafty Crow. I've been meaning to have a crack at it - but of course I needed to wait 'til Monday.

So today - we have Muffin Tin Monday.

My little dude ate everything. EVERYTHING. Except for two sections because he was just too full.

This is such a great idea for many reasons, toddlers get to feel independent and 'choose' what they eat. It looks enticing. It's less mundane than prepping a sandwich every day. Bit size treats are a bit more exciting than a regular sandwich. It's good to mix things up for everyone involved, visually as well as nutritionally.

I was surprised to watch in what order everything was devoured. And while there is chocolate starring in one little 'pot' - it wasn't the first thing to go. This is how lunch went down: popcorn, celery, seaweed crackers, mandarin, sausage, rice biscuits, pb sandwich and on and on it went.

Usually I have to keep reminding him to sit and eat his lunch - not today.

Muffin Tin Monday is going to be a regular occurence in our house. Oh yes, yes it is.