I love to cook. My idea of a perfect Sunday afternoon is finding a new recipe, shopping for the freshest ingredients, and spending hours in the kitchen whipping out some new culinary feast for my family. The house smells amazing, I’ve used the creative side of my brain and best of all, I get to savor the fruits of my labors.
Oftentimes, however, my Julia Child fantasy is blown up instantly by my dining guests under the age of eleven.
“Yuck!” one of my children will blurt out.
“I’m not eating that!” another will chime in.
“Do we have any rice?” the rice-aholic will inquire.
Poof! Julia is out the door and I’m shocked back into real life as the cafeteria lunch lady trying to please my picky customers.
“This is dinner everyone,” I will explain shaking my finger feeling the flab on my lunch lady arm jiggle. “You may eat whatever you like from this gourmet feast. And no, there is no rice.”
Sadly this is a typical dining experience in my house. One child likes Italian food but won’t touch Asian meals; one will only eat Asian food; and the youngest somehow survives exclusively on peanut butter and jelly.
Go figure. Why is it that two of our most basic human needs, eating and sleeping, pose some of the biggest challenges parents face with young children?
After trying and failing with a number of strategies to entice my little ones to broaden their palates, I now simply put a balanced meal out on the table and if they don’t eat it, they go to bed hungry. I’m done with the fighting, negotiating, and dessert bribing. Breakfast is the biggest meal of my children’s day thanks to less-than-full tummies at night.
This eating rule applies to restaurant meals as well, which poses additional challenges when our family is traveling. Recently we spent a weekend at a hotel on the central coast. At dinnertime my husband and I elected to take the family to Chili’s where we thought there would be something for everyone to eat, and, thankfully, a full bar for us road-weary parents to enjoy.
After staring at her pasta for fifteen minutes, our five-year-old decided she wasn’t going to eat her dinner.
“That’s fine,” I explained. “But we have no food at the hotel, so I suggest you eat so you won’t be hungry at bedtime.”
“These are icky,” she said rolling some noodles around her bowl with a fork. “I’m not eating.”
“Okay,” I said. “I guess you’ll have a big breakfast then.”
Back in the hotel room, we tucked our little ones into their beds. My husband and I crawled into our own bed in the adjoining room and attempted to do a little reading.
Within minutes, various arguments erupted in the kid zone.
“Hudson won’t turn out the light and I can’t sleep with it on,” complained the 10-year-old.
“Emerson won’t stop singing,” growled the 8-year-old.
After thirty minutes of refereeing and problem solving, hubby and I were done.
“Go to sleep or we will never take another trip again!” I shouted.
At last, there was momentary peace.
As I began to lose myself in a book, I heard a stern voice in the kid room.
“Emerson!” the 8-year-old said in a whispered bark. “Mom said to go to bed. You are going to get us all in trouble. What are you doing?”
As my beloved snored blissfully next to me, I stomped into the kid room to find my daughter trying to stuff a piece of paper underneath the door to the hallway.
“What on earth are you doing?” I asked as she handed me the paper. I opened up the folded note and read her cryptic kindergarten writing:
“Dow yu hv food? I am 5. Emerson Morley”
You have got to be kidding me. Now she is appealing to strangers in the hotel hallway to feed her. Well, why not? Her parents are starving her after all.
My next thought was of hotel security breaking down the door, throwing my hubby and me in handcuffs, and handing my little one a PB&J, which she would devour with a satisfied grin while glaring at her parents.
Trying my hardest not to giggle hysterically, I reminded my youngest that it was bedtime, and tucked her back in.
“So you’re hungry, huh?” I asked.
“I’m staaaaaaaarving,” she sobbed.
“I know it doesn’t feel good to be hungry,” I said. “We will have a big breakfast in the morning. Also, you may want to eat your dinner next time.”
“I won’t make it to breakfast!” she howled at the top of her lungs.
“I can’t sleep with all the noise Mom!” growled the rudely awakened oldest. “What is her problem?”
“I’M STARVING!!!!” the drama queen shrieked waking up her snoring father in the next room.
Stumbling out of bed and into the kid zone, my hubby grumbled, “What the heck is going on in here?” Before anyone could answer, he tripped over one of the kid’s suitcases.
“Damn it!” he bellowed. “Can we just all go to sleep?????!!”
The king has spoken and within minutes there is finally silence except for a growling tummy and the resumed snoring next to me.
Yes, sleeping and eating. Basic human needs requiring more strategy, patience and skill than any parent could ever imagine. Who knew?
