Fry, Party of Five

recent posts

  • 12 Unsolicited Opinions from My Tweens That I Did Not Ask For

    12 Unsolicited Opinions from My Tweens That I Did Not Ask For

    Welcome to the moody middle ground of motherhood, where your once-sweet child has become a now taller than you critic with zero filter and a master’s degree in Eye Rolling. I love my tween, truly—but wow, the commentary is constant and deeply unasked for. So in the spirit of solidarity (and humor), I give you:

    1. “You should never wear that outfit again.”

    Listen, I was just trying to be comfy and slightly cute. But apparently my ribbed tank and high-waisted shorts combo is a crime against humanity. Duly noted.

    2. “Why do you have TikTok? That’s so embarrassing.”

    I downloaded it to keep up, maybe find a cozy recipe or two… but apparently, my mere existence on the app is a direct attack on Gen Z dignity. Heaven forbid I enjoy a little cottagecore content without ruining their algorithm.

    3. “Why do you talk to the dog like that?”

    Because he loves me unconditionally and doesn’t critique my emotional tone.

    4. “You laugh too loud in public.”

    Oh, I’m sorry—should I stifle all joy to maintain your coolness rating in the Target checkout line?

    5. “You sing like, kinda okay… but like, not good.”

    Thank you, Simon Cowell. I was under the illusion that car concerts were judgment-free zones.

    6. “You’re too obsessed with candles. It’s weird.”

    First of all, how dare you. Second of all, my bergamot-vanilla sanctuary is the only thing standing between me and a full mom meltdown.

    7. “You ask too many questions.”

    I’m sorry for being invested in your life, your friendships, your mental health, and your current obsession with overpriced Ulta everything. My bad.

    8. “That’s not how people use emojis anymore.”

    Apparently, I’ve committed emoji crimes. Too many hearts, not enough irony. “Cringe,” they whispered, as I cried into my ☕️📚🧡 aesthetic.

    9. “Stop saying ‘vibe.’ It doesn’t sound right when you say it.”

    Cool cool cool. Just me out here ruining language again.

    10. “You don’t need to narrate everything.”

    I do, in fact, need to narrate everything, because if I don’t say it out loud, I’ll forget why I walked into the room. This is survival, sweetheart.

    11. “You’re not really funny, you just think you are.”

    Ouch. But also—did I not carry you (and your brother and sister) in my belly and survive toddler tantrums in triplicate without running away to a yurt in Montana?

    12. “You get, like, way too excited about fall.”

    Oh really? Well maybe I am too excited about pumpkin spice, crunchy leaves, and the scent of “Cozy Flannel Dreams.” But guess who still gets hot cocoa on chilly mornings? That’s right. The Fall Queen, that’s who.

    Final Thoughts (That No One Asked For):

    I know one day I’ll miss the sass, the side-eye, the deeply unfiltered commentary. For now, I’ll keep the receipts—and the eye rolls—and laugh through the chaos. After all, if parenting tweens has taught me anything, it’s that humility comes free with the gig… and sometimes, so does brutal fashion advice.

    Let the unsolicited opinions roll on. I’ll be over here, in my “embarrassing” outfit, lighting my candle, and vibing exactly how I want to.

  • Back-to-School Energy Shift | Resetting the Home Vibe

    Back-to-School Energy Shift | Resetting the Home Vibe

    Ah, August. That magical, messy stretch of time where one foot is still planted firmly in summer’s barefoot freedom—and the other is reaching for a backpack, a planner, and a working pencil sharpener (good luck).

    If your home feels like a collision of popsicle sticks, pool towels, and piles of Target school supplies, take a deep breath. You’re not doing it wrong. You’re just standing in the seasonal in-between, and friend, that shift is real.

    Here’s how to gently, soulfully reset the energy of your home as the school year tiptoes (or barrel-rolls) back in.

    1. Ease into Routines, Don’t Crash Land

    Start small. A consistent bedtime again. Morning checklists taped to the fridge. Pajamas before 9:00 PM—dare we dream?

    Back-to-school doesn’t have to feel like a military operation. It’s more like adjusting the dimmer switch from “summer chaos” to “organized-enough.” Build back the rhythms with grace and space. Your goal isn’t perfection—it’s peace.

    Try this: Light a candle after dinner and call it “evening wind-down.” Even if nothing else feels structured, that tiny ritual can anchor your whole household.

    2. Reset the Senses with Fall-Scented Everything

    Want to instantly trick your brain (and your family’s) into embracing the vibe shift? Engage the senses.

    • Light a cinnamon-vanilla candle.
    • Simmer some apple peels, cloves, and orange rinds on the stove.
    • Swap the lemony dish soap for something that smells like “harvest spice.”

    The scent of fall—warm, nostalgic, earthy—tells our minds it’s time to cozy up, calm down, and gently re-root.

    3. Create Cozy Zones of Calm

    After a summer of sprawled-out chaos, your home deserves some breathing room.

    • Clear the dining table.
    • Tidy one corner and add a blanket and a book basket.
    • Add a hook for each backpack (a.k.a. prevent-the-morning-meltdown station).

    Think “comfort corners” more than clean-slate minimalism. Just enough order to feel like your home is holding you, not hounding you.

    4. Let Go of the Pressure to Have It All Together

    Back-to-school season can come with a whole lot of noise—comparison, expectations, performance, Pinterest-y perfection.

    Here’s your permission slip: You don’t have to have it all figured out.

    Your worth is not measured in perfectly packed lunches or color-coded calendars. Some mornings will run smooth, others will be pure chaos with burnt toast and forgotten shoes—and both are normal. Both are okay.

    Back-to-school is a season, not a sprint. Let yourself settle into it.

    5. Celebrate the Shift with a Family Reset Ritual

    Mark the moment with something simple but special:

    • A pancake breakfast on the first day.
    • A family movie night with fall snacks and fuzzy socks.
    • A prayer or intention-setting circle around the table.

    Call it “our little launch” or “the season shift” or “Team [Last Name] Reset.” What matters is that you name it—and claim it—as your family’s own.

    Final Thoughts: You’re Not Behind. You’re Becoming.

    This isn’t just about a school schedule. It’s about seasonal alignment—your home, your rhythm, your inner world finding a new groove as the light changes and the leaves prepare to turn.

    So give yourself grace.

    Light the candle. Fold the blanket. Welcome the shift.

    Because cozy isn’t just a vibe—it’s a way of being. And you’re already doing it beautifully.

  • Fuel Up, Buckle Up, Suck It Up | Life as a Mom Taxi

    Fuel Up, Buckle Up, Suck It Up | Life as a Mom Taxi

    Somewhere between piano lessons and the 4-H Fair, I lost the feeling in my left butt cheek. I’ve become one with the seat of my Jeep. My Apple algorithm thinks I’m 12, and my car is less a vehicle and more a time capsule of growing-up moments.

    Hi. I’m Angela, and I’m a full-time mom taxi.

    If you’ve ever found a rogue football cup under your front seat, or said, “Is that a half-eaten sandwich or a science project?”—then you might be one too.

    Let’s break down the highs, the lows, and the straight-up absurdities of being our children’s unpaid Uber drivers.

    PRO: You Know Where Your Kids Are

    CON: You Always Know Where Your Kids Are

    Yes, they’re safe. Yes, you have tabs on them. Yes, you’re not worried they’re wandering the neighborhood with a popsicle and a prayer like it’s 1988.

    But also… you’re never alone. Like, ever. If someone’s not arguing over the phone charger, they’re asking if I have a snack. (“Because this is a 10-minute drive and I am not Amazon Prime for Cheez-Its, Jase.”)

    PRO: You Get Quality Time

    CON: It’s Often in the Form of Sighing, Eye Rolling, or TikTok Volume Battles

    In theory, all this chauffeuring gives you “bonding time.” In reality, it sounds more like:

    • “Did you remember your shoes?”
    • “You told me this started at 5:00! It’s 4:58!”
    • “NO, I’m not going to turn around because you forgot your cheer socks.”
    • “Whose chewed gum is in the cupholder?!”

    But sometimes, if the mood is just right (read: no one’s hangry), you get those rare unicorn moments—when they start talking without prompting, when they let you in. That’s the good stuff. The in-between stuff. The “worth it” stuff.

    PRO: You’re Involved

    CON: You’re TOO Involved

    You learn the names of the teammates, the coaches, the other moms, and possibly the janitor. You start organizing snack sign-ups. You remember jersey numbers. You become a logistical goddess.

    And then one day you realize: You haven’t peed in peace since May. Your email inbox is 90% volunteer requests and dance costume invoices.

    You’re somehow part of four group chats that don’t need to exist, but you can’t leave because there’s always one piece of critical info buried between 43 “ok sounds good!” replies and a rogue GIF of a sloth doing the macarena.

    PRO: They’re Doing All the Things!

    CON: They’re Doing ALL. THE. THINGS.

    You wanted well-rounded kids. Active kids. Socially-engaged, multi-talented, “yes, this will look great on a college app” kind of kids.

    You got them.

    Football. Piano. Cheer. 4-H. That random art class they insisted on but now “don’t really like anymore.”

    Let’s not forget practices, games, fittings, meetings, and the occasional “Can you pick up _____ for practice too.”

    Every night feels like a Nascar pit stop between events:

    • Toss them a sandwich.
    • Swap a shirt.
    • Pray they don’t notice they’re wearing mismatched socks.
    • Peppy goodbye and off to the next thing.

    Are they thriving? Yes. Are you? Debatable.

    PRO: You’re a Fly on the Wall

    CON: You Hear Everything

    Ah, middle school gossip. Playground politics. The “he said/she said” recaps. The front seat is like Switzerland—neutral ground where they forget you exist and talk freely.

    You learn who’s dating who, which coach yells too much, who got kicked out of group chat, and whose mom definitely smells like weed at pickup.

    This is juicy stuff.

    Of course, it comes with the downside of knowing everything. And I mean everything. Including your child’s very strong opinion that 4-H foods judging is “low-key terrifying” and Sally Sue told Jimmy’s cousin that so and so stole a debit card and used it. (True story!)

    PRO: It’s a Season

    CON: It Feels Like a Lifetime

    Everyone says, “You’ll miss this one day.”

    I probably will.

    But right now, my calendar is color-coded chaos. My car smells like sweat and stale fries. And if I hear “Mom, I need to be there 20 minutes early!” one more time, I might fake my own death and start a new life selling wind chimes in Vermont.

    Still, I remind myself—this is a season. A loud, sticky, wonderful mess of a season. One day they won’t need rides. One day they’ll have their own keys, their own schedules, and I’ll miss being the background music to their everyday life.

    So for now, I’ll soak it up.

    (With a side of sarcasm and drive-thru iced coffee.)

    Closing Thoughts (From the Driver’s Seat)

    Being a mom taxi is equal parts privilege and punishment.

    You’re the keeper of the schedule, the finder of the lost cleats, the supplier of post-practice snacks, and the ride-or-die (literally) for every single activity under the sun.

    Is it exhausting? Absolutely. Is it beautiful in that gritty, real-life way? Also yes.

    So if you’re out there driving loops around town in a car that smells like teen spirit and Febreze, I see you.

    I salute you.

    And I hope your next coffee is hot and your next drive-thru line is short.

    P.S. Don’t forget to check under the seat this weekend. You will find a granola bar, a dried-up marker, and maybe your will to live.

    You’re doing great, mama.

  • When Summer Gets Weird | What to Do When Everyone’s Over It (Including You)

    When Summer Gets Weird | What to Do When Everyone’s Over It (Including You)

    Ah, late July into August—that weird in-between place where sunscreen feels like a second skin, popsicles have lost their sparkle, and no one knows what day it is anymore. You’ve already vacationed (or attempted to), grilled, chased fireflies, and now… everyone’s cranky, hot, and over it.

    Including you. Especially you.

    This is The Summer Stretch—those long, hazy, post-trip days where the energy is off, everyone’s restless, and Target is already throwing back-to-school displays at your face like a dare.

    So what’s a moody mama of tweens (or just a beautifully burnt-out human) to do?

    Let’s talk survival. Let’s talk soul-savers. Let’s talk lazy meals, low-effort joy, and tiny moments of peace in a house full of eye-rolls.

    Soul-Saving Family Activities (That Don’t Involve You Losing Your Sanity)

    These aren’t “Pinterest-perfect summer bucket list” ideas. These are keep-us-from-murdering-each-other activities that just might make a memory or two.

    • Reverse Movie Night
      Let the kids pick a movie for you. They curate snacks. They set up the living room. You just sit and watch whatever chaotic tween humor they throw your way. (You’ll laugh. You won’t want to. But you will.)
    • Summer Bingo
      Create a quick family “Boredom Bingo” board: things like make a smoothie, read for 20 minutes, dance to one song, clean something without being asked. Winner gets to skip chores for a day.
    • Afternoon Drives with No Destination
      Put on a playlist (throw in one song per family member), grab iced coffees or slushies, and drive country roads until someone smiles or falls asleep. Windows down. No agenda.
    • DIY Spa Hour
      Facemasks, foot soaks, cucumber slices and all. Yes, even the boys. Especially the boys. Moody kids get weirdly tender when you hand them a warm towel and some lavender lotion.
    • “Teach Me Something” Hour
      Let each kid teach you (and the siblings) something: a dance move, a video game skill, a craft. It’s goofy. It’s empowering. It ends in laughter 87% of the time.

    Lazy, Moody-Girl Meals (No Shame, All Ease)

    Summer dinners in this season? We’re going for minimal cooking, maximum satisfaction.

    • Snack Plate Suppers
      Cheese cubes, hummus, berries, pretzels, hard-boiled eggs, cucumber slices, leftover rotisserie chicken. No one complains. Everyone eats.
    • Build-Your-Own Burrito Bowls
      Rice (make a bunch at once), beans, corn, shredded cheese, avocado or not, salsa, sour cream. Line it up like you’re Chipotle and let them go wild.
    • Breakfast-for-Dinner Nights
      Pancakes, scrambled eggs, fruit. Everyone cheers. You barely lift a finger.
    • Pasta + Frozen Veggie Magic
      Cook pasta. Dump in a bag of frozen mixed veg the last 3 minutes. Drain. Add butter or olive oil, parmesan, and done.
    • Takeout Tuesday (or Whenever)
      No explanation needed. Budget for one night where you don’t touch a dish or plan a thing. It’s holy.

    Moody Mama Moments of Peace (Because You. Are. Tired.)

    This stretch of summer tends to eat moms alive. So here’s permission to opt out, zone out, or run away briefly for your own sanity.

    • Porch Coffee at Sunrise (Alone)
      Before the house wakes up. Just you, the birds, and the hum of cicadas. Leave your phone inside. Let the silence talk back.
    • Audiobook + Folding Laundry
      Turn a mindless chore into a mental escape. Pick a thriller, a rom-com, or a memoir that makes you feel seen.
    • Afternoon Bath or Shower with the Door Locked
      Midday reset. Lavender soap. The sound of no one asking where their phone charger is.
    • Target Run Alone (With a Beverage)
      Wander. Touch throw pillows. Sniff candles. Pretend you’re making important decisions when really, you just need 45 minutes of air conditioning and eye candy.
    • Evening Journal Dump
      Just a page. What went wrong. What went right. What you’re grateful for. What you’re really feeling. It doesn’t need to be pretty. Just real.

    You’re Not Failing—It’s Just August

    This isn’t the golden stretch of summer anymore. This is the melty, moody, emotional hangover of the season. And that’s okay.

    You’re not doing it wrong if you’re a little short-fused. Or if the kids are suddenly feral. Or if no one knows what they want but they know they don’t want that. You’re doing just fine. We all are.

    So stretch through these sticky days with grace, grit, and iced coffee. Pull out the paper plates. Lean into lazy fun. And when all else fails, remember: school starts soon.

    And that, my friend, is a reason to hope.

    Tell Me:

    What’s your go-to move when the summer mood hits hard? Drop it in the comments—I need inspiration (and so does everyone else).

  • Still a Party of Five, Just with All the Tween Drama Now

    Still a Party of Five, Just with All the Tween Drama Now

    Fry, Party of Five is back – older, moodier, and with more eye rolls than ever. But don’t worry, this isn’t a comeback tour with glittery graphics, Pinterest-perfect photo ops, or sponsored cereal reviews. Nope. This time around, it’s just me— Angela —writing straight from the trenches of tween parenting, heart first, filters off.

    If you were around back when Fry, Party of Five was last up and running—when the kids were in that wild 6-to-9ish-year-old stretch, all loose teeth, LEGO landmines, and backseat bickering—welcome back. The chaos hasn’t gone anywhere; it’s just evolved. These days, we’ve swapped bedtime battles for sarcasm, tween drama, and the mysterious disappearance of forks.

    This blog won’t come with a social media strategy or curated Instagram grid. You won’t find brand partnerships or affiliate links here. It’s just one mom, one keyboard, and a whole lot of unfiltered honesty about raising three very opinionated humans through the tangled, hilarious, soul-shaping mess that is the tween years.

    There will be laughs. There will be rants. There may be the occasional cry-in-the-bathroom moment. But above all, there will be truth—and hopefully a sense of “me too” for anyone else navigating this wonderfully weird season of parenting.

    (And if you do miss the bells and whistles—women’s wellness chats or midlife musings—I’m still over at Her Clementine Collective, doing all that jazz. But here? This is the real-life reel. No edits. Just us.)

    Thanks for being here. Let’s do this thing—again.