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Survival Of The Northern Momma!

Roar! Yum...yum...yum...Roar!

If you’re anything like us, then you live in a chilly Northern climate and, from the months of November until about April, you will spend a great deal of time inside your home saying such things as:

“Why is it dark at four thirty in the afternoon? Does this happen every year?” and, “it’s only five o’clock. Are you absolutely sure it’s too early to go to bed? Should I take a loaf of bread with me incase I get hungry?

But it’s fine, because right now you’ll be spending most of your free time taking care of your children who, at this time of year, can unexpectedly erupt into a volcano of vomit and bodily mucosa at any second.  You must always know where the bucket is, and have a ready supply of fresh towels on hand to staunch the flow of children barf.  It’s disgusting.  It’s stressful.  But as a side note, just think of this time as a great opportunity to worry less about your looks. Allow your wrangled toenails to take a break from all those fun summer colors and give your bikini line the space to relax into new shapes, and “express itself” for a while:

“My bikini line is a regular Jackson Pollock right now!”

“I’m growing mine in the shape and size of a full moon!”

And for some of us, when things get stressful, oh man, you better sharpen the silverware because the chickens are coming home to roost. And then they are getting eaten. Whole. All of them. With a big bowl of Chalet Dipping Sauce on the side.

The food you reach for in times of stress tells you a lot about who you are as a person:

Sam is the person who, when her children get sick, prepares for the week the way other people prepare for hurricanes. By stocking up on canned goods and batteries. By thinking about getting a Go-Bag together. By buying lots of chocolate pudding. Like, insane amounts of chocolate pudding.

Last week, when the baby vomited, Sam took care of business, got everybody in the house to a place of calm, and then grabbed a taxi for an emergency trip to Williams-Sonoma to get a specialty crepe pan.

Husband (alarmed): I thought you went to get chicken soup!

Sam (serene): I thought everybody might like some crepes.

Pause

Pause

Husband: Nobody in this house likes crepes.

Sam: That’s impossible.

Whereupon she then made 15 crepes and ate every single one of them by herself, since nobody else wanted them. They were very delicious.

As for Allana, she is still waiting for actual genetic evidence but is almost certain she is 1/14th grizzly bear.  Starting around late October she is struck by the intense desire to ingest as many carbs as possible as a survival mechanism to not freezing to death.  This act of eating all and any muffin caps that come into contact with her face is further intensified by all cough and colds that her children incur.  Convinced that her consumption of heavy carbs and complex sugars will somehow make her children feel better Allana can often be seen consuming loose candy like a starved rat.  She really loves candy.  Is that candy in your pocket?

But she would NEVER let her bikini line go Jackson Pollock on her.  That technique belongs solely to Samantha.

Why go artsy highbrow when you can reach for the moon?

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