This week on the porch we're smoking Cap Junkie by Garden Greens — an evenly balanced hybrid that hits fast, hard, and somewhere between the eyes — and we have a very special guest. Grandma Deb is back, and she brought sour straws, a blanket, and absolutely no filter.

But before she makes her entrance, Amanda has stories. Her mom spent approximately one hour at a softball game and somehow found time to comment on the missing earrings, the bra, the bra strap, and the anniversary gnome that is still in the trunk of the car because once you see it you will understand why it hasn't made it to the yard yet. All of this happened in rapid succession. All of it was delivered as helpful information.

Then Deb arrives, gets womped, announces she needs to go to 7-Eleven for the great Slurpee of her life, can't stand up, declares she drove home with liquor she didn't know was liquor, and somehow ends the night discussing whether Herschel the dog is spiritually available to join a cruise. She also confirms she had a third breast removed — casually, mid-candy — and moves on without missing a beat.

Also: Jax has a new favorite song, the black hole house has green plants in the window which raises more questions than it answers, Harper has a backyard neighbor she never mentioned, and the Cap Junkie had everyone on the floor before 10pm.

Moms always find something to say. We have proof.

Pull up a chair. 🌿

This week on the porch, Hailey's husband has her on a timer, the kids are orbiting like satellites, and we have exactly 30 minutes before someone turns into a pumpkin.

We open with the Canadian wildfire smoke settling over New Jersey and the skunk situation — Hailey's stash had been sitting at Amanda's overnight, shifted during cleaning, and at 8am Amanda genuinely thought an actual skunk had woken up furious and sprayed the entire house. It was the stash. The kids didn't mention it.

We went a little viral this week — a lot viral, actually — for the parasitic diarrhea post (find us on the 'gram at momsontheporch!).

Then: Amanda's dad finding out she smokes weed via her then-boyfriend-now husband at a bar mitzvah. The toddler who fell asleep mid-tantrum, woke up at midnight, and picked up exactly where he left off because he still wanted Daddy's phone. Hailey's claustrophobia rears its head when the Canadian smoke blocked out the entire sky on her 5:30am walk. And Amanda's great New York City bike incident that includes wearing a dress on a bike and riding through a Pride demonstration, and Hailey's bike incident with a missed brake, and a full dismount into someone's front yard — apparently it's not just "like riding a bike."

Also: the kids crash porch night looking for fireflies, the bridge gets a microchip entry system, and we wrapped right on time.

Pull up a chair. 🌿

This week on the porch we're smoking Untitled Ice Cream Cake — an indica that promised to have us falling deeper and deeper into a couch-locked state of sedation, and delivered on every word. We read the description out loud and still said yes. We have no regrets.

We open on the week from hell: a birthday party that turned into a family confrontation in front of the entire yard, a freshly high Amanda standing her ground while her knees buckled, and a dad who scaled a garage wall with pots and pans and was having the time of his life doing it. Also: someone walked into that party with such an attitude that the dog immediately bit at her ankles. Otto knew.

Then things get lighter. Hailey takes Jax to the beach, carries him half a mile through sand that felt like lava, and arrives at the full realization that the beach with a toddler is not a vacation, it's a sport. Jax hears Missy Elliott for the first time and announces it's his favorite song. And five-year-old Ava, trying to be the most helpful child in the world, brings Hailey a can of Nowadays THC cocktail instead of a Diet Dr. Pepper because she thought it was Mommy's soda too.

She wasn't wrong. Just early.

Pull up a chair. 🍃

Episode 10. Double digits. We're smoking Granddaddy Purple — allegedly the grandfather of all weed strains — and it took approximately two hits for us to fully endorse that claim.

Before we get there, Amanda went to the casino womped and came back with two stories: one involving a flash mob of nine-foot-tall strangers, and one involving a Backstreet Boys song, a casino bathroom, and a desperate attempt to remember one single detail before she had to put her phone away. She remembered it. Barely.

Then we hear about how Hailey's mom broke her foot on Father's Day, what started as "probably just a sprain" turned into surgery, a canceled trip to Paris, and a week that required a lot of THC (for Hailey) to get through.

Also: the clouds on Father's Day were not moving and we have video evidence. The Warheads watermelon flavor tastes like shampoo. The algorithm brought back the crabs. And somewhere in the middle of it all we land on the most important thing — the porch was always meant to be.

If Granddaddy Purple is the grandfather of all weed strains, you already know who the grandmother is. She's in everything. She's always been in everything.

Pull up a chair. 🌿

This week on the porch we're smoking Super Boof — Leafly Strain of the Year 2024, which we absolutely did not know until right now — and processing a week that had absolutely no chill.

Both sets of girls had their last day of school. Hailey cried six times. She did the secret handshake at the kindergarten door one last time and did not hold it together. The teachers noticed.

Then we get into the mom friend thing — the real version. The pressure to make friends at school pickup, the feeling of being excluded that apparently doesn't stop when you turn 40, and the story of how Amanda spent an entire first year of kindergarten mom dinners drinking water while everyone else had cocktails because she had just gotten inseminated that afternoon and couldn't say so. The room absolutely clocked her as not their brand. She has spent two years making up for it.

Also: Hailey's number one parenting hack involves telling her kids their tongues turn purple when they lie. It works. She's passed it on to other families. We have thoughts. Plus Foodie Field Trip Fridays are officially in the calendar, 60 people showed up to movie night and somehow that felt normal, and we rank who makes the cut for the next one.

We're doing it for the plot. Come be part of the conversation.

Pull up a chair. 🌿

This week on the porch we’re smoking Kaizen by Garden Greens — sativa leaning, social high, clear euphoric head. Perfect for a conversation that was supposed to be normal and was not even a little bit normal.
We open with exploding sour Warheads candy that genuinely feel like doing drugs, debate whether smoking alone officially crosses the line (Deb’s ruling: that’s drugs), and somehow end up with Shaquille O’Neal’s anatomy becoming a recurring topic of conversation for reasons that made total sense at the time.

This is one of our more unhinged conversations. We are not apologizing for it.
Pull up a chair. 🌿​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

This week on the porch we're smoking Unicorn Milk by Munchies — sweet notes of sherbet and, yes, Girl Scout Cookies — and picking up where we left off on the question that won't leave us alone: when does cannabis become drugs?

Tonight's verdict: it might be the accessories. Once you've got a bubbler, a bowl, a bong that's described as "really cute" — have you crossed a line? We debate, we disagree, and we land somewhere in the middle.

Also: Amanda catches a neighbor packing something into some kind of paraphernalia at 5:30 in the morning and cannot determine what, exactly, it was. The vibe she was catching was opium. Hailey gets paranoid by a noise on the walk home that turns out to be her own flip-flops. The creepy house delivers again. And somewhere in there, nap wood becomes a topic of conversation.

We don't make the rules. We just smoke on the porch and talk about them.

Pull up a chair. 🍃

This week on the porch it's a Friday daylight womp — kids upstairs, moms outside, Munchies Marshmallow Pie in the bowl and porch tax cookies to match. We spend three attempts trying to have a PTA conversation, and land firmly on the conclusion that you cannot be a womp mom and PTA president at the same time. We don't make the rules.

Also: Hailey woke up at 2am convinced there was a tarantula-sized spider on her wall, spent 25 minutes trapped in her own bathroom, and it was almost certainly the 15mg edible she took before bed. We both do some stoner math about how many school moms are secretly womped. The hose game gets a full rule set. And somehow the black hole house, a 1985 sitcom, and a woman watching traffic from her window all become the same conversation.

We might be the outliers. We're fine with that.

Pull up a chair. 🌿