“Mom, what’s for dinner?”
Nails on a chalkboard. Because I know what’s coming.
Either I haven’t had a free second to even think about what’s for dinner, so then I’m annoyed at having attention drawn to my incompetence or I respond with a well-planned meal only to be greeted with this:
“Ugggggghhhhh. I don’t like [fill in the blank]!” Go ahead, fill it in. It doesn’t matter what you fill it with because he’s not going to like it, no matter what. And even if he does like it, unless it’s brownies and ice cream, he’s still going to claim he doesn’t like it because that is the purpose of this conversation.
I do not enjoy preparing food. I guess that particular trait was left off of my X chromosomes because I detest it. I don’t like thinking about what we are going to eat, scouring the internet for an easy recipe that doesn’t contain 25 hard-to-find, expensive ingredients, pondering what vegetable should go with it, what I need from the store to prepare it, what time I need to start working on it, and on and on.
It drives me to drink.
Especially when most meals are prepared to the not-so-musical accompaniment of Baby S’s crying as he follows me around the kitchen, undeterred by the barrage of toys I toss his direction.
And then when my hard work is done, I still lift my head and look hopefully around the table, daydreaming that I might see happy children with full bellies and empty plates but my (stupidly) unwavering optimism is usually met with a plateful of fish with two bites taken out of it, untouched veggies, a yogurt-covered high chair in which a baby sits yogurt-free, a trashed kitchen, and my empty wine glass.
And I sigh, and think about how I would’ve been just as happy with a peanut butter sandwich I could have prepared in 20 seconds.
That’s the annoying thing about children. They expect to be fed. And then the next day, they expect to be fed AGAIN.
It’s this vicious never-ending merry-go-round of breakfast, lunch and dinner. Oh – and don’t forget the snacks.
I feel like I spend 40% of my day preparing food of some sort or another. And once you throw in the difficulties of wanting to feed them things that don’t contain pesticides, added hormones and antibiotics, corn syrup, and genetically modified junk (corn and soybeans which are in, like, everything), anything you can buy that is quick-and-easy or partially prepared is out the window.
I could spend the entire day in the kitchen slaving away on those three meals a day plus snacks from foods that hopefully won’t give them cancer or make them sterile and if that would put a smile on their faces, I’d do it happily.
But no…
“So-and-so gets to have Lunchables for lunch; why can’t I have Lunchables for lunch?”
Somehow, to a 6-year-old, the phrase “Because I’m trying to limit your intake of processed meats to keep you from getting colorectal cancer when you’re 60″ just doesn’t have the same ring to it as “I love you, let’s eat candy!”.
Alas, I will ponder this no-win situation and pray for my children’s taste buds to develop my affinity for PB&J while I head to the grocery store which I can expect to take three times as long as it should because I have to scour the ingredients list myself, thanks to a government in the pockets of special interests that doesn’t feel the need to clearly label products that contain GMOs.
Peace out, fools.*
*That was for you @reedster2, @floodg, @kdwald, @yhwriteme.
{ 12 comments… read them below or add one }
I am getting urban slang shout outs all over the world wide web this week! First, great post and boo to colorectal cancer. Second, man, I hate cooking for my kids. I used to enjoy it until Jordan started complaining about something I’d slaved over, then my next baby was a picky eater. By the time I had my third, we were spraying cheese at each other from the kitchen pantry and calling it good. They eat good meals when Daddy’s home, and maybe he should rethink his decision to office from the east coast.
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Spray cheese! Oh man, that stuff is nasty but fun!
The Lunchables line honestly made me LAUGH OUT LOUD. I immediately emailed this to my BFF.
I can relate to every single thing you said here.
In fact, one of finer moments in parenting came earlier this summer when I made a meal consisting of chicken and something else that both children liked and after essentially begging them to eat it, I totally lost my SH*T and screamed at the top of my lungs. That was a shining moment for sure. I could have only handled it better had I immediately put them both in the car and driven them to the soup kitchen, too.
Fantastic post!
thedoseofreality recently posted..Your Child’s Yes Day
I’ve noticed I’ve been losing it at dinner time more often than not lately…
As I read this I am instantly reminded of my biggest fears when it comes to children and food: cancer and obesity. I cannot tell you how many conversations I have had with immediate family about my 11 week old daughter’s future diet, only to be met with confused looks when I say that they are not to give Shannon Pop Tarts for breakfast, nor are they to take her to McDonald’s EVER. Or when I have left a place like Gatti’s Pizza Town, very angry because I have seen one too many families with obese parents and their obese children running around allowed to eat anything they want. Unlike you, Jennifer, I love preparing food. I love to cook. I also love to eat–a bit too much sometimes. I also have a tremendous fear that I will have the same problems you mentioned with my daughter when she begins eating solid foods.
I have to share a trick my mother-in-law told me about what she used to do with my husband when he was little. Anytime he would not want to try something she said “Oh, you’re right honey. [fill in the blank] is an adult food. Maybe next year when you’re older you can try it.” Sure enough, he HAD to try it after hearing that.
I don’t know if that will work on Shannon, but my husband will eat just about anything now. Hmmm, I don’t know if that’s good or bad.
Oh my gosh, sometimes I feel like I should be nicknamed the “food nazi”. And it’s so difficult to get prior generations on board with that whole no-processed-food thing. Their bodies are just so tiny so I worry so much about how all of the “altered” food we consume will affect them exponentially. It’s a serious source of stress. “Someone I know” likes to feed people french fries and it’s like watching myself run across the room in slow motion, grabbing the fry from in front of the baby’s face shouting, “noooooooooo!”
I’m gonna show my kids by only eating take-away after they move out.
I hate cooking for everyone too, and here it is almost dinnertime, damn it! I start drinking when dinner’s over, to celebrate knocking out yet another meal. But I can tell you that it does get easier; my thirteen-year-old loves anything he prepares for himself, and he makes his own scrambled eggs or egg tacos almost every morning. My ten-year-old suddenly loves peanut butter and can make his own little sandwich when he wants a snack. So that leaves only my husband as the truly helpess one. Hang in there, girl; we all hear you!
Louise Ducote recently posted..Your Turn
I so hear you on this. I use the “What the hell is THAT?” rule: if I can read through a list of ingredients without saying “What the hell is THAT?” or “Ewwwww” then I buy it. Otherwise, no. It’s food, not a chemistry experiment. So I end up making a lot of things from scratch which is actually okay with me because cooking is the one domestic chore that doesn’t actively annoy me.
But Ms 4 never likes what I make. NEVER. It’s frustrating. Though recently I’ve become more zen about it because if she’s going to hate literally everything I make then I can make whatever the hell I want. It’s not like it makes a difference to her. If she’s hungry we have a bowl of fruit on the counter. It’s free range parenting up in here after 6p.
I am embarrassed how many different “meals” I fix every night. My mother certainly never did that. Like you, I almost resent the time it takes to fix meals and clean up. One comment mentioned her children who fix themselves something to eat. Mine do — but never clean up. Or their idea of cleaning up is dumping all the dishes in the sink. (Which is might fault for letting them get away with it.) I guess the resentment comes in because deep down, I feel if I gave up my own interests, my work — I have a steady stream which doesn’t pay all that much, my exercise, I could work magic at meal time and have a clean kitchen. But I don’t want to give up my interests.
Wow. That was a long comment. Someone must have needed to vent. Good luck and I let my children have a very long Lunchable for dinner phase. They finally lost interest.
Jamie@southmainmuse recently posted..Build it and they will come. If it’s free — they will come faster.
I find cooking is only fun when I have looooaaaddsss of time. I don’t have children but I rarely have that kind of time. So I know that you have absolutely no time to luxuriate in fun meal planning. What if you get your children to plant a garden in the backyard and then have them pick their own veggies? Would they eat them then? Probably just more work for you…well, there’s always cheese sandwiches and cereal for dinner!
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My kid has major food issues so he eats the same 5 or so things every day. He tells me he’s bored, I tell him to try something new, he screams, it’s good times. I cook for him then I cook (or get take out) for my husband and I later. Every single day it’s a battle. I used to love to cook, now I hate it. And the cleaning that goes with it and all the rest. So much time spent on something to fight about – when you think about it, it’s ridiculous!
I loved your post. And I’m right there in the trenches with you.
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