Homemade Cliff Bar

As I continue my quest of trying to figure out what the hell my children will eat, I jump at any opportunity to make something resembling healthy.  By jump, I do mean I notice something, feed them the crappy version for as long as I can then eventually get around to looking for a recipe and may actually make the recipe.  So, they love Cliff Bars. Awesome. Balanced, real food, somewhat healthy and enough calories to get them moving and add some meat to those skinny ass legs. I found this dope website, that, amongst several other crack-like recipes, had a recipe for a no-bake Cliff Bar! Whoop Whoop!!
So I tried to make them.
I had most of the ingredients at home, imagine that. The girls like the chocolate chip peanut butter one, so I for that. I did not have peanuts, so I chopped up almonds. I also did not have Brown Rice Syrup, so I used Molasses and Honey.

I'm not going to lie, honey, molasses and peanut butter smells damn good cooking.

They were good. Not great, not as soft at the actual Cliff Bars. I am going to pick up some peanuts and brown rice syrup next time I am at the store and see if that makes a difference. The taste is a bit too molassesissy (nice) for me, so I am going to either try the brown rice syrup or just use straight honey. I think using peanuts instead of almonds may hide that flavor a bit more. So, we will see. Ruby spit it out and Adriana ran out of the kitchen and hid in her room...

Seriously

I got new cleaning stuff.

This time it will be different.

Seriously.

What the douce

I am quite sure that there is a large vacuum out there that is sucking the time and energy out of every moment of my day. I think it is an Oreck. You know, the kind you can never find the right bag for? It is orange. I am hoping that whoever turned it on is able to turn it off and return it to the store. For now, coffee, sugar and a silent resentment for all things breathing will have to suffice.

Harper Rose

She is the bomb.

It's all fun and games until...

someone gets an imaginary friend. It started out harmless, super weird, but harmless. Both 3-year-olds created an imaginary event, the concert. At said concert, they had a friend named Michael. Now, they each have a Michael, differentiated by the simple word "My". Here is a few of the MANY things that the Michaels do:My Michael has a red shirt

• My Michael can drive
• My Michael likes cookies
• My Michael read this book at the concert (yep, that event still takes place in the minds of my daughters)
• My Michael lives in that house (pretty much any house they see)
• HI MICHAEL!! (screamed at every plane that flies overhead. We live a mile from the airport. 750 planes a day...you get the point)

Now, their dear friend Michael has become a problem. When asked what Michael looks like, they usually say some older man they know or just "an old man." Ok, fair enough. We once saw a Barney episode where an older man was trying to get to his concert and one of the characters was named Michael. Maybe thats it...

But my mind usually sees something more like this:

Now, Michael has started telling my kids that he does not need to listen to me and he doesn't like me. So, Lou's Michael told her that all the DVD's need to be on the couch. When I asked her to tell Michael that her Mom says no, she started crying and freaking out.

In other words, I have two 3 year-olds that are pushing the boundaries of human nerves, but a creepy old man that keeps telling them to do so.

Awesome.