Old McDonald

This time of year is perfect for living in AZ, well, it's still pretty hot but everything is growing and it's finally cool-ish at night. Fake fall, I love you.
I just got back from a trip to SF to visit my lovely very much missed sister with Z and my cousin in tow. And like every time I go on a trip I left a mostly empty fridge.
Tomorrow is Farmer's Market day by us, and there is an embarrassment of produce riches at the market: pears, lettuce, honeydew, apples, leeks, onions, heirloom tomatoes...all perfect and tasty. I've also found a marvelous ranch that has affordable, locally sourced, grass fed beef and goat (crock pot birria here I come), the farmer is hopefully going to hook me up with a small quantity of raw milk to feed to Colin for allergy prevention! Woot.
Pictures from the trip and whatnot coming up soon...also, the new plan. ;)

Lil' Crunch

About 2 months ago I had my gallbladder out. If you are friends with me on the Facebook, you'll know that I had been having gallbladder attacks since my 2nd trimester while pregnant with Z. It was miserable. After trying to control the attacks with diet change and pain killers I threw in the towel and went under the tiny knife for removal. It was a basic easy procedure and now I don't have crippling attacks of pain from out of nowhere (though I still can't eat french fries or pizza).
I begin this way so you understand why my milk production has decreased for Z. Not dramatically, but enough that I started him on solid foods a fair piece earlier than his older brother. Z was thrilled about that, he'd been eyeing my plate and grabbing for sushi and green chili since month 3. Weirdo. He took to solids well and really wanted to bypass the standard baby food route and eat real people food. I was not thrilled with this as, at 5 months old, the child didn't really have the wherewithal to chew. Leading to a lot of fishing things out of his mouth and his wailing in rage.
Fastforward 2 months and we're at good place with it. Z eats various purees spread on homemade baby toast sticks, and little Gerber fruit puffs, and banana bites and yogurt melts and "Gerber Graduate's lil' crunchies" ...and it is here we reach the meat of the entry.
I hate the word lil'. I loathe it. If it were on fire and I had spit in my mouth, I'd swallow the spit. It is a cheese grater to my brain.
But guys...guys...these things? These odd puffed corn treats coated in vegetable powder? Sister Mercy. They are delicious. Z likes them well enough, he'll eat half a serving in a sitting, but I could put away half a can if I didn't display some effing self control. These things are better than Cheetos (which I also can't eat anymore) they are super astoudingly tasty.
And so I have a quandary. Do I keep buying the (clearly) cocaine coated "lil" crunchies the name of which is repugnant? Or do I stand my ground on the issue of "lil" and vote with my wallet.
RENAME THE CRUNCHIES GERBER! I WANT TO CONSUME THEM WITHOUT CRINGING!


ps I mean clearly I shouldn't be inhaling my infants snack treats...are there adult versions of these? I gotta get off the junk.