I can feel myself growing older by the second.
One hour and 48 minutes worth of seconds.
Sitting at the bloody table, willing more than one pea to be placed on the fork.
More than a quarter teaspoon of potato on the spoon.
Just one time, I want all 3 kids to eat their dinner without any drama.
The endless jumping up from the table to go to the toilet for the third time since they sat down.
Another bottle of water.
Thinking they hear someone at the door that they can clearly see from the table.
Planking on their chairs because that's completely normal.
One hour and forty eight minutes.
If I was to produce McDonalds, they would eat quickly, quietly and without complaint.
Fish and chips, likewise.
But if they know I've made the chips and the fish did not come through the front door, deep fried and wrapped in paper, then it's not really fish and chips and they reserve the right to whine and complain and dramatically drape themselves over the table, all woe is us.
Where is the mythical healthy, home cooked, vege filled version of McDonalds, that all kids will happily scoff?
Why are my own home made, oven baked chips sooooo unacceptable compared to their deep fried, boxed counterparts?
Why will two members of The Feral Threesome scoff a lasagne while the third wallows in the pits of despair over the injustice of being served up such a meal.....
Two nights later that third child will ask for seconds of the same base sauce as spaghetti bolognese, while the lasagne loving two take turns faux vomiting in utter disgust over the contents of their dinner plates.
I'm pretty sure they have a secret roster going.
Taking turns making me lose my shit for their own enjoyment.
Probably payback for making them shower on a daily basis.
One hour and forty eight minutes.
It was a slow cooked lamb casserole.
Each mouthful chewed so long that it turned to liquid, and Mstr5 was choking it down.
All the while, me begging, pleading, threatening, promising, bargaining, ignoring, praising, berating, ignoring some more.
One hour and forty eight minutes.
I shit you not.
He was my favourite until that point.
Now, come dinner time, we are begrudging acquaintances.
It is on like Donkey Kong.
Mexican standoff across the dinner table. Fork hovering above the plate, daring me to say something.
For one hour and forty eight minutes.
Longest non-degustation dinner ever.
My god...I cannot believe you persisted! Let him go hungry I say.
ReplyDeleteI absolutely would, except I'd be the one getting the tap on the face at 2am to say he's starving and can't sleep. Plus I like to win, so I was not going to back down.
DeleteYou have more endurance than me and I've run two marathons. Seriously, I don't know how you have the patience.
ReplyDeleteComing from you that is high praise. Am going to add it to my skills on my Resume "Endurance".
DeleteGood Grief woman, you must have been going insane!!!! Try this, put their dinner in front of them, tell them that is all they are getting, they are to remain at the table until they have finished it, if they get up from the table then they are deemed to be finished their meal. Get rid of it and don't give them anything else until breakfast the next morning. If they complain that they do not like it, fine, same rules that is all they are getting, either eat it or leave the table but nothing more tip breakfast. Do that consistently for a few days & they will soon learn who rules the roost - and no they will not starve or be scared for life if they miss a couple of meals. They will in fact hopefully learn that if someone is nice enough to provide you with a meal it is good manners to eat said meal (and complimenting it too but lets not run before we can walk).
ReplyDeleteI'm in. I may need wine for resolve/sanity. I'm going to try it next week while #1Hubby is away, so he won't be there to cave in.
DeleteTracey, I cant wait to do that with my 2 1/2 yr old.
ReplyDeleteI know exactly how you feel. My boy will eventually eat a banana before he goes to bed after about the same time frame of begging, bargaining etc... He still has a bottle at night so I use that as my bargaining tool which gets him to finally eat something. I give his sister ice cream or her bottle and that still doesnt make him want to eat his tea. Isnt it fun? Bet ya he'll eat the house town tomorrow. At least your glass is full. :)
Filled twice over ;-)
DeleteI'm going to try Tracy's method next week. Best be purchasing a cask.
Put the food on the table, enjoy half a glass of wine, and that's IT - long enough!! Take it away. If you want to be mean, excuse 'em from the table but leave the food there and if they come back hungry later tell 'em to 'eat up'
ReplyDeleteWise words. But tell me, why only half a glass? Or are you referring to a head-sized goblet?
Delete'He was my favourite until that point.' I may or may not have snorted when I got to that bit. HAHA!
ReplyDeleteI put dinner in front of my toddler. If she eats it, she eats it. If she doesn't, she doesn't. She goes to bed either way, and doesn't get anything else until breakfast. Pasta disappears in seconds. Anything else? Still there while she's asleep. Oh well. x
I've started the whole "you do not get up from this table until you are finished". And then I get up and walk away. Worked for a few days, then they realised I was not paying attention once I walked away. Have found peas lining the window sill near the table, and spinach shoved in the wrought iron base of the table.
DeleteThat photo of you is priceless!! I've soooo been there.....
ReplyDeleteOn any given day...
DeleteToo funny! Imagine the whole bottle was needed, not just the glass in hand!
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ReplyDelete