** This disclaimer states that I see all of your eyerolls as I tell you about my latest serendipitous mom hacks.

At the risk of sounding exactly like an LA cliche, we spent our Sunday morning strolling through the farmer’s market. And for the most part, it was entirely lovely. The end of summer/beginning of fall is like the sweet spot – Pluots from the summer harvest fill the stands and fresh dates make themselves known for just this small pocket of time. And of course there’s the usual, organic arugula, corn, hummus and green juice and who doesn’t love a freshly baked pain Au chocolate? (My ass doesn’t, that’s who, but that’s besides the point). 

What I find so diametrically at odds with this “frolicking through the grass” type feeling is the inevitable bouncy house lurking at the entrance/exit of the market. These filthy, potentially staph infection ridden gems wield such power over my 6 year old, that any logical argument otherwise falls on deaf ears. So every week, I cringe as my son takes off his shoes and hurls himself into that bacteria bin of a plaything. And then, as if that weren’t insult enough, across from this exists a cart peddling what can only be described as socially acceptable drugs for children: sno cones. 

Must we end this stroll through the market with chemicals, dyes and sugar enough to literally alter the brain function of our youth? Is it too much to ask that this treat be organic? The ENTIRE market is clean, fresh and organic save for this demonic display. And I’ve apparently changed my name to Faust, for we keep returning week after week. 

Alas, this week I happened upon one of the most ultimate mom hacks to exorcise the demon: frozen Honest Juice pouches.  


Because C likes a healthy treat after school, and also because it’s still 100 plus degrees here in LA, oh and yes, because it’s LA and, traffic, it takes more than 30 minutes to drive the 11 miles to school, I find myself packing a cooler to keep these treats the right temperature. I threw in a frozen juice pouch, really just to use as a disposable ice pack with the idea it would fully defrost by pickup. It didn’t, so I cut open the top and poured a little organic cherry/pomegranate juice I was sipping on atop of the ice and voila – the ice looked just as dreamy as a sno cone. Without the added ADHD. And C scooped it all up, excitedly strumming up ideas for other kinds/colors of juice we could add next time. 

I wish I had a picture here to illuminate this hack, but I don’t because he ate it so fast. Instead, I leave you with the picture that simultaneously made my skin crawl and inspired this post. 

Post Script – we went to another farmer’s market, to spice things up a bit. Miraculously, they had an organic Sno Cone stall. We happily plucked down $4 for a small treat and lo and behold… epic fail. We may as well have thrown that $4 directly in the trash. Sigh. 


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