Category Archives: M

My littlest Bro-ski

It’s his party and he’ll cry if he wants to

You would cry too if this happened tooooooo you..

STAR WARS

traumatizing, I know… your sister toiled away in the kitchen until 1:30 AM the previous night while constructing your perfect Darth Vader  birthday cake, detailed in chocolate buttercream. Life sucks for you.  You should cry.  You should especially cry if your friend hit you in the head with a soccer ball.

Come ON M.  You of all people should know that Star Wars cures all woes.

Ah whatever, it’s your party.  You’ll appreciate me one day.

Despite the tears, the party was still off the hook.  You should all be envious.  M turned 5 (On June 9th… this post is way late).  That’s half of ten.

I don’t think I need to tell you all that half of ten is a huge deal.

When you’re half of ten, you have to play soccer in your backyard.

Or cry inside while you eat a hotdog, and your friends who have already eaten their hotdogs play outside.

It’s ok, your friends (and uncle) will still have fun.

They might even have collisions with their brothers. 

They might even cry too.  Just to make you feel better.

It’s ok though, because when you’re half of ten, you come back from tears with a vengeance.  And often with light sabers (un-photographed).

When you’re half of ten, you likely will not have noticed the delicious caprese skewers that your sister made.

Or the Avocado Citrus Salad.

Or the fruit galettes. Definitely not the raspberry one that your sister meticulously shaped into a heart.

Or the rest of the dinner really. I mean come on… you had a cocktail weiner in a mini bun.

The rest of dinner (pictured on your sister’s lap) didn’t live up to your sophistique. Regardless of how much effort it required.

You’re half of ten though, I know you enjoyed your birthday cake.

You Enjoyed blowing out the candles.

You enjoyed eating it.

You enjoyed it nearly as much as Larry did.  This is Larry.  He’s a-freaking-dorable, but this post is about M so I’ll just throw all of the Larry photos down in one go.

Anyways M, you may not have run up to me and sung me praises for being the greatest sister, who made the greatest cake, and the greatest salad, and bought you the greatest ukelele that you love, and who you will never be able to replace.

BUT, I guess that’s not really what I was looking for…. I guess.

I guess I just love you anyway… so that why I did it. I guess.

And I don’t need to worry.

One day, when you are thirty, and a famous actor, you’ll look back through the archives of my blog… realize how much I love you.. and buy me a penthouse in Santa Monica, because you love me too.

But like I said… I guess I’ll just love you anyway.

And if you really are looking back on this, and are jealous of all of the delicious food that you didn’t try on your fifth birthday, but that lovely house guests like Ziggy got to try…

I’ll tell you some of the Recipes that I used:

Avocado Citrus Salad

Raspberry Buttermilk Cake

Vanilla Buttercream Icing

Chocolate Buttercream Icing (best.)

Happy Birthday again M. I love you eh.

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Filed under Dessert, Family, Food, M

The M Cooking Show

Ladies and Gentlemen I would like to present to you, for his first motion picture debut, my brother M.

In the following video, the mystery as to why the taco he ate in my previous post was so dang appealing, is debunked.

M does not use cheese in its standard form. No. He moves beyond.  The man is an innovator.

Observe.

Please stay tuned for further installments.

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Filed under Dinner, Family, Food, M, Uncategorized

The Weekender

No, I’m not talking about the best TV show to hit family channel.

I’m just talking about an overview, a little weekend update.

Though that show admittedly had my twelve year old self wrapped around its little finger. I was livin’ for the weekend. HEY!

(I hope you’ve seen “The Weekenders”, otherwise I’m sorry for startling you with that abrupt “hey!”)

My weekend was looking dreadful.

I think everyone can agree that, upon sight of this, an outlook that was once positive, would now be buried. 5cm down.. for the sake of accuracy.

Even though it looked like christmas.

Even though I my raspy sickness had me sounding like Steven Tyler.

I refused to accept my circumstances.

I would drink cold smoothies, and life would continue as it should.

From Friday night to Saturday afternoon was dedicated to the XX chromosomes.  Tofu stirfry, stove top popcorn, vegan pancakes, enviro-fairs, trail runs and long awaited girl talk. Oh it had been a while, fellow XXs.

They’re pretty cute, my friends are. Don’t get any ideas.

My free time was quickly drawn back to the small being with the huge influence over our household’s daily affairs.

The being needed a snack. Right Now.

As if there is EVER a request that doesn’t need to be carried out RIGHT NOW.

Oh I was going to deliver.  Sister points continue to be tallied.  I’m good at this.  You see, things that lone young twenty-somethings like to eat when they’re feeling hormonal… 4.75 year old’s like to eat them too. Funny how these things work.  Maybe it’s some sort of primitive inclination that just says “Carbs. In Mouth. In 5 Minutes or LESS.”

It’s a good thing we get along, M and I. Otherwise he may have missed out on this beauty.

Yes it seems like a breakfast bake. M himself said “It looks like a breakfast bake. I asked for a snack. NOT Breakfast.”

It’s not a breakfast bake M, it’s a cupcake.

Queue silence.

It is not breakfast. It’s not that good for you. By all means though, don’t let that stop you from eating it at any time of the day.

M’s words, “It’s actually good.” I never get words.

That was huge. Probably huger than the breakfast bake.. for him. Though he probably had an aneurism waiting for his food to be photographed before he could eat it.  I’m just surprised he doesn’t question my motives.  Maybe 4.75 years is long enough to notice that someone’s a little off, and that it’s best not to ask questions.

M had his with blueberries, if you’re feeling low, please substitute chocolate chips.

I ate the leftover blueberries.

Can you tell?

Minute Cupcake

(Adapted from Chocolate Covered Katie :))

3 tbs spelt flour (or any other kind, I already told you I’m a hippie)

1/4tsp baking powder

pinch salt

1 tbs melted organic butter (or oil, or applesauce if you’re even more of a hippie)

2 tsp agave (or other sweetener, can totally increase to 1tbs, I won’t judge)

1tbs + 1sp milk/milk substitute (I used organic 1%)

splash of vanilla

toppings: blueberries, nuts, chocolate, don’t let me stop you

Directions: Really? Fine. Mix all ingredients together in a ramekin or small microwaveable dish. Ramekins make me smile. Microwave for 1 minute. Eat.

In two minutes you could be eating this. why aren’t you? Well maybe I’ll let you off if you’re doing something cool like mountain biking.  After attending to the smaller being, the G-Rad (step dad) and I took to the trails.

My bum had to get back on the seat some time, might as well be on a sunny day.

On a trail called Blues Brother

With flowers.

Sometimes in order to really take in the scenery, you have to stick your tongue out awkwardly.

And then eat tacos. That’s important.

And please, whatever you do, don’t let them get away.  Shove them in your face or else they will escape.

My weekend exceeded my expectations.

It is no longer christmas outside.

I do, however, still sound eerily like Steven Tyler. Pray for my health. If you need me, I’ll be curled up in a corner surrounded by used kleenex and green monster cups.

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Filed under Dessert, Family, Food, Friends, M, Traipsing Outdoors

Penguins in the Yukon

My mother says that my brother is more inclined to outdoor athletics than I was at his age.

I resent that.

My brother is spending his early childhood in Whitehorse, a mecca for outdoor everything.

Most of my early childhood was spent in apartments in Edmonton.  I blame everything imperfect about me as a young adult, on my ever-transitional early childhood.  Who needs responsibility when you can blame your upbringing. I’m sure you’re with me.

I didn’t file my taxes.

Upbringing.

I have two unpaid parking tickets.

Upbringing.

I spend more time on food blogs than I’ve ever spent doing homework.

Well that one’s a no-brainer. Upbringing. Clearly I was force-fed food blogs in the early nineties. Back… before … DSL..

Anyway, I had no hope of being as sport-inclined at five as M.  I had a late start ok. I jumped on the bandwagon at a ripe old age of seven.  Unfair mom.  Equal opportunity? Yeah whatever.

No, you are wrong. You do not detect a hint of jealousy.  I’m a wildly outdoorsy, competitively athletic young adult, more-so than many my age… just.. not… my 4.75 year old brother apparently.

Brushing it off. He’s just spoiled right? Spoiled with natural inclination? I had to… work harder for it… it’s character building. That’s what it is. Character building.

Regardless of who was a more eager child, we both, currently, love the outdoors.

surprise.

So we went on a hike with mother. This was after I had already ran 20K with Coralie just FYI, but we aren’t comparing. No. We’re hiking.

We had a particular trail in mind and would be deterred by nothing. Not even the fact that, regardless of most other trails being dry, our chosen path began like this.

Yes, snow. Mathias did not falter. Neither did I.

Clearly basketball shoes were the recommended footwear.

Yes there were pitfalls, or maybe just regular falls. But we help eachother out. (Blurrily)

Maybe we had to help eachother out many times.

Maybe even mother needed help.

Like when she slid 5m down the trail into her not-so-sure-footed son.

Guess which child didn’t fall? Yes that’s right, the one that was never “that naturally inclined toward outdoor sports”. HA.

Now, most of the falling occured on the way down.  The way up to the viewpoint on “Easy Money” involved more flowers.

And jumping.

And demanding that your sister jump exactly where you jumped.

And noticing that your sister goes all-in when you ask her to do things. I’m sorry if I was feeling competitive M. Really, it’s not in my nature.

M also encountered a steep rock face (that required a distinct pointing-at).

And a puddle. It was large.

Can’t go over it

Can’t go under it.

M had basketball shoes, he would not be premitted by his mother to go through it.

Gotta go around it!

And then run ahead while your sister takes a picture of herself in it.

Finally the climactic accomplishment. M reached the top.

First.

He wouldn’t have it any other way. Punishable by uncontrollable yelling and a refusal  of going back down. Fortunately no one decided to challenge his win.

Was it this view he was excited about?

Was it? Huh nature boy? No.

It was penguins. A small ziploc container worth of cheddar penguins.

Of which I recieved, by decree, exactly four.

They were doled out by the penguin controller himself.

He and my mother spent a few minutes lounging on the bench.  They snacked.

They exchanged what appeared to be disgruntled faces.

I apologize for the exposed midrif in the following photo.

And the closed eyes. The whole face really.   It seemed like this photo was needed at the time.

Everything went downhill from there. Ha.. ha. Yes, as I mentioned earlier, much falling ensued.

People disappeared into the snow.

Snow appeared in Brittany’s shoes.

Somehow mud appeared on M’s bum. No one knows how.

We followed our fearless leader downward.

There were occasional distractions.

M introduced himself to some wood.

I introduced myself to some wood.

Finally, after much agony, many roots, and an encounter with mystery feces (perhaps caribou?)…

We returned to greenery…. with wetter pants than we began with.

M refused to run back up the road to get the car. He began running down the road.  It’s ok M, your big sister, the one who’s athletically inclined, will run up the road to get the car.

It was character building.

She was rewarded with all natural, vegan, raw, cashew-based, mint cacao-chip ice cream. You may not be jealous now M, but you will be one day…

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Filed under Family, M, Traipsing Outdoors

Bake that Breakfast.

If you don’t know with certainty, at this point, that I’m into food… it’s safe to say you’re not the sharpest tool in the shed.

Not like this guy

What you may (or may not) have caught onto yet, is that I’m BEYOND into breakfast.

If it were convenient, if it were nutritionally balanced, and if I wasn’t the only one who felt this way, every meal would be breakfast.

I sometimes get excited when I don’t have any food in my pantry, just because it results in my forced pancake making.

By “sometimes” I mean always. Duh.

Withhold judgement.

Pancakes are the bomb-diggity, don’t get me wrong, and oatmeal is the most fabulous staple… but lately I’ve been cheating on these regular brekkies with something a bit more exciting.

A bit more alluring.

A bit more…. Yes, I know, I bring the drama… it’s as though my choice in breakfast determines the fate of the world.

Well it does.

My world

And you know what rocked it? (moment of respect for poor humour) This Baby.

Breakfast Bakes.  They are like a cake. For breakfast.  Made in less than two minutes.  In the microwave. Yeah. These fella’s are packed with goodness. Like all kinds of goodness.  Like your mom says “how many grams of omega-3’s?!” goodness. You guys know I’m aaall about the goodness. The breakfast bakes are super customizable.  I’m all over the banana or pumpkin varieties… but berries… other junk.. it’s all good.  Yeah chocolate too, no one’s lookin.   These breakfast bakes originated with Ashley from The Edible Perspective.  She is genius.

These spread like wildfire.

Please make them.

They will cure your post-canadian election blues if you’re a leftie (for at least 30 minutes).

If you aren’t a leftie, you’re still welcome to have an awesome breakfast.. I guess 😉

Even journalists attempting, or not attempting, to be bipartisan should make this.

Yes Hilary, you should make this.

(I love photographs of eggs, don’t know why, they just seem so serene)

Breakfast Bake

adapted from Ashley

1/4c whole grain flour (I ground red river cracked wheat/rye because sometimes I’m a hippy)
2T almond milk (or whatever milk floats your boat, but beware of creepy hormones and things)
1/2-1t cinnamon
1/2T vanilla
2/3’s of a banana (I like mine uber banana-y, this can be subbed for 1/4c of pumpkin, yum)
1/4t baking powder
1 egg white
1T chia seeds

1) In a microwave safe dish, I used a pyrex glass bowl, whisk the egg white (could replace with chia/flax egg for vegan styles), mashed banana, vanilla, and milkishthing

2) Add the rest of the junk (dry ingredients) and any other mix-ins you fancy.. like fresh/frozen fruit, blueberries would be good. mmm. blueberries. or nuts. or whatever. I put dried figs in mine. Yeah, figs. Whatever.

3) Microwave for about 1 min 45 sec. Then extract from bowl and insert in mouth. Or something less graphic.

This is a certified M-friendly recipe. I think I’m going to have to add this as a blog category.  M has ACTUALLY requested this at breakfast at this point.  This is huge my friends. Scored insane sister points.  You know it’s good when…

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Filed under Breakfast, Food, M

What would you do for watered down gatorade?

My brother would do a duathlon.

Sure, potentially not healthy giving a 4.75 year old gatorade.  That’s why the rents had given him the “Only After Races” rule.

He’s 4.75, you’re thinking, “You guys put your child in races? That’s gotta be wrong.”

Honestly, it’s all him

Brittany does the 5k race on tuesday, he’s going to run the 3k. Yes run. That’s how he was exposed to sport drink.

That heathen water cooler full of gatorade.  When I arrived home last week he was devising new strategies to acquire the good stuff.  Mom is currently training for a sprint distance triathlon. Go Mom!

My brother, M, saw this opportunity and ran with it.

“Mom, if I do a triathlon, would I get gatorade?”

“Well, Yes.”

“What if, I did a run… then bike… then run. Run, Bike, Run triathlon.”

“That would be a duathlon, and yes.”

“I WANT TO DO A DUATHLON RIGHT NOW”

M began his race preparation that morning.  He constructed a one man duathlon.  M against the clock. Around our block.

I caught him right as he motored through the bike-to-run transition.

His splits were slowing down.  Boy has to really work on even splitting.  Come on, where’s the endurance little bro? You’re almost five.

We think he stopped to talk to some neighbours.  His bike split was slower than his first run. Really?

Regardless, his smile wasn’t losing steam. Right as he headed around the first bend Mother yelled, “There’s gatorade at the finish!”

In return we got a “GATORADE. YAY!” accompanied by a heart-filled double fist pump. He picked up his speed. We think he slowed down five houses later.

Finally, looking haggard, he powered through to the finish.

A (thoroughly watered-down.. shhh) gatorade awaited.

Elation.

Pride.

“I’m not going to do that again soon.”

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Filed under Family, M, Traipsing Outdoors