It's All About the Brinner

These past few days have been...hectic. Exhausting. Long. Will has had long days of class since Wednesday (as well as the stomach bug, just for good measure), and he had drill with the reserves this weekend. Which means everything-childcare, housekeeping, cooking, dog walking-it's all on me, baby. I know some women who welcome such a challenge. I'll be honest here and confess that my first reaction upon facing this weekend was not that of, "Yeah, bring it! I GOT this! I'll morph into Super Mom so fast you won't know what hit you!" No, my initial reaction was more along the lines of, "Can I flee to the opposite end of the earth without my husband noticing?" Ridiculous. Of course he would notice. At some point, the baby will want to nurse, and Will lacks the necessary equipment. Anyway.

How does one maintain her sanity while chaos reigns around her? In short, simplify everything. And I do mean everything. The house looks like a wasteland? It's cool, you've been alone with two small children and a dog since 6am! Tony watched too many episodes of ridiculous shows such as Paw Patrol and Rabbids? Not to worry. His brain isn't atrophying or anything; he still has the creative mindset necessary to carefully place stickers (thanks SO much, mom!) all over the kitchen/dining room area. Too exhausted by the time the husband comes home to do anything other than flop down on the couch in exhaustion, and hope you're not crushing a small child beneath you? Enter brinner.
Please tell me I'm not the only one out there who thinks of Scrubs when "brinner" comes to mind.

At our house, brinner generally consists of one or more of the following: blueberry pancakes, French toast, omelettes, bacon, and warm cinnamon applesauce. It's perfect. I'm still technically "serving" something for dinner, it's not takeout (see? see how resourceful I am??), it's kinda sorta healthy, and it makes Tony happy. Will? I'm not sure. My spidey sense tells me he would infinitely prefer "real" dinner food over brinner, but since I went to the trouble of throwing together a meal, he has the good sense not to complain. 
The ingredients for tonight's meal. Go on, admit it-you wish you could "housewife" like me.


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