parenting, Recipes, Salty Mama Lists, The Salties, Tips & Hacks

Easy Breakfasts for Busy Mornings

This post contains affiliate links. We may make a small commission from items purchased after clicking the links. You can read more about our disclosures and policies here. Thank you for supporting The Salty Mamas!

I don’t know about you guys, but school mornings at our house have always been like WOAH.  From back in the day when I was a teacher trying to hustle my little one off to daycare, to now as a SAHM trying to hustle my big one off to class, the name of the game has always been to get everyone fed as quickly- and as free of chaos!- as possible. Here, you’ll find our ten favorite recipes and tricks to make eating breakfast go down a little easier. Continue reading “Easy Breakfasts for Busy Mornings”

Mama Mojo, momlife, parenting

The Shame of Having Your Sh!t Together

At this morning’s playdate, a little girl was on a mission to eat all the snacks. Her mom nervously laughed and was like, “you’d swear I didn’t feed her this morning! I promise, she had a full breakfast- eggs, sausage, hash browns- from scratch mind you- and she ate them all.”
And I swear to God, the entire playdate came to a screeching halt.
“UM, DID YOU JUST SAY YOU MADE FREAKING HASH BROWNS FROM SCRATCH?”
There was a quick moment of silence and then Christine, being Christine, initiated a slow clap while the mama blushed and pretty much immediately started backtracking.
“Well they were actually kind of easy. It wasn’t a big deal. And I don’t do it all the time. I happened to have time this morning.”
And then I’m like, hold on. When did it become embarrassing to have your shit together? Why is this poor lady ashamed of being AWESOME this morning??
I get it. Hot mess mom culture is in. We’ve turned the tides and are owning it. Messy buns? Hells yes. Messy house? Of course! Yoga pants? All day. Every day.
And you know what? That’s fine. Be a hot mess. Everyone is at some point. Lord knows I spend more than my share of time in the Hot Mess Mama Club. This job is hard, and we sure don’t need to be judging each other.
But also, we don’t need to be judging each other.
You shouldn’t have to be embarrassed that you are nailing this mom thing. You can take pride in a job well done without coming across as braggy, and you can tell your friends about what your life is like without people thinking you’re an asshole. Make your kids smoothies, or kale, or hash browns from scratch. Take them to the park, be screen-free, do an arts and crafts project every day. It’s okay to be a hot mess somedays, or all the days, but it’s also okay not to be. And unless you’re being a dick about it, you shouldn’t have to hear that you have too much time or your hands, or that you’re making everyone else look bad, or whatever it is that people might say to ward off their own insecurity. You’re doing fine, mama. More than fine. And frankly, we’re a little jealous.
And as for the rest of us- if another mom mentions that she is nailing this parenting thing, try to rein in your judgement and applaud her. Literally or figuratively. Because maybe tomorrow, you’ll be the badass making smoothies, and you’ll want a slow clap of your own.

20187522_10102367933464457_201173883_n

Caffeine, koefoe party of 5, momlife, parenting, Traditions

Family Breakfast

Once you’re running around with a herd of kids, some things just don’t happen if you don’t make them a priority. If you don’t give them the sacred status of a “tradition.” Plans can be cancelled, but you don’t F with tradition.

And so it is that every Saturday morning, rain or shine, feeling like it or not, we load up all the kids and head to our local breakfast spot, The Potholder. (Or as Evie says “Popholder”) We went once on a lark, when we had just two kids. Evie was still a bucket baby that we could take in her carseat as she – God willing – slept peacefully while we ate. We had a good breakfast, but more than that we had a good meal. The next Saturday, we decided to try it again. And again.  And again. Before we knew it, we had a tradition. We had our spot. We had our “thing.”
Those early days were a fun time to focus on our firstborn,  give him some attention while the baby slept. Dinners as a family were touch and go….Mommy exhausted from a day of doing all the things, Daddy tired from working hard to take care of us. Cooking was a chore that prevented me from embracing the meal that followed, restaurants even worse. Saturday mornings seemed to be just the ticket. We were refreshed and looking forward to all the weekend had to offer. We had the confidence of parents that were going to tackle it all together – starting with breakfast.

As Evie grew, we had mornings that were absolute nightmares. More food on the floor than in anyone’s stomachs; jelly wars leaving everyone sticky and grumpy; bitter battles fought over the potential stacking of creamers – an activity that inevitably ends in an explosion causing you to ask, “how can there be SO MUCH CREAM in that thimble???” I felt the eyes of the other patrons burning into my soul, sure they were asking themselves why, OH WHY, we thought it was a good idea to go out in public with these kids. We left big messes – and even bigger tips -in our wake, shouting both apologies and promises to see everyone next week.

But some days are like pure magic. Our kid are polite, the people in the neighboring booth smiling at us as though we’ve done something right. IMG_20170128_075912310[164].jpgThey happily share pancakes, not even fighting over the melting glob of butter they both covet. The fold their hands and wait for the food, Evie squealing “our food is coming!” with a look that contains more excitement than the grown up me knows how to possess anymore. They play games we made up as we wait for our food, making us laugh and smile and wonder how in the hell we got so lucky to have these kids. And that’s what we call “The Sweet Spot.” It’s an elusive moment when everyone is pleasant. It’s fleeting, so sometimes I feel afraid to blink and miss it.

So we go when the kids are terrible. We go when they are lovely. We go when I feel like I could take on the world. We go when I ask Taylor, our regular waitress, to administer an IV drip of hazelnut coffee. We’ve gone when I was 40 weeks and 4 days pregnant. We’ve gone with a five day old.

But we go.

Someday we’ll stop going. And it will probably break my heart. So for now, we go.