Confession time: how many of you feed your kids Lunchables
at least 3 times a week? And by 3, I mean 6. And by 6, I mean 7. Yes, my son
eats a Lunchable pretty much 7 days a week. The exception is when I need a
tired kid, and we hit up the McDonald’s play place.
Now, before you go all Judge Judy on me, if you’ve ever fed
your kid regular ground beef instead of the lean variety or a flavored water
when he could have had the real thing, you can go ahead and throw that hand up,
too.
Prior to actually having any children, I was one of those
people who would say, “I’m never hiding vegetables in my kids’ food. They’re
just gonna have to learn to eat right and like it.” These days, my “eat right
and like it” philosophy involves dramatically handing Suttie a celery stick that’s
more peanut butter than celery and whispering, “It’ll make you magic.”
In these food-centric moments, I often flash back to one of
the first times that Suttie was aware of the discussion topic during our church’s
children’s moments. He was asked what his favorite food was, and from a few
pews away, I was silently praying: “Please say apple, please say apple.” Of
course, he said, “Chicken nuggets,” but I still breathed a sigh of relief because
he could have just as easily said, “My twice daily dose of gummy crabby
patties.”
In addition to failing to create a decently well-rounded
meal plan, I’m also not one of those moms who buys organic anything. It’s not
that I’m opposed to organics……my budget is. But on those special days when the
organic baby food pouches are on sale and I have a valid coupon, I put those
bad boys in my cart front and center. Then I talk to myself (…loudly…) about
not having room for other items because of my organic stockpile: “Oh, they have
fruit cups on sale. Shoot, I would buy some, but I don’t have any more room
with all of this ORGANIC BABY FOOD…”
Sometimes, I’ll even engage nearby shoppers to cement my “healthy
mom” status: “I sure hope I have enough pantry room for all of this organic baby
food [insert showroom model arm wave]. Am I right?” Meanwhile I’m smuggling 15
Lunchables under a giant pack of 2-ply toilet paper.
To make matters worse, recently, I was somehow signed up for
a Facebook group devoted to showcasing your kid’s lunches because, apparently, I
was way too secure about my child-nourishing skills. The first time I got a
notification from the group, it was to show me a picture of some grilled edamame
and curry-roasted tofu that one boastful June Cleaver had prepared for her son.
Back on earth, I applaud my reflection when I remember to give my oldest a Go-gurt.
And it’s not that I’m a bad cook. I’m just not a good cook.
I can’t make concoctions on my own unless the end goal is to fill up the
garbage disposal. I know how to make what I know how to make, and there are few
departures from that meal wheel. But don’t feel bad for me. I have many talents
(being able to spot the one thing on a list of 30 chores that my husband didn’t
do or being able to watch really bad ABC Family movies more than once); gourmet
cooking simply isn’t one of them.
To make matters worse, trying to fix a well-balanced,
multi-coarse meal with one child asking you to watch him play Minecraft and
another trying to eat the knobs off the coffee table drawers isn’t really
conducive to a post-worthy supper.
So the next time you upload a picture of a squash salad and
label it, “Cannon’s Favorite Meal,” expect to feel a few twinges of pain from
my apron-wearing, garden-growing voodoo doll. And I’ll expect the same from
your attractive, super cool, too-thin-for-her-current-jeans counterpart of me.
Disclaimer: If I ever poke fun at something you do, it’s
because I’m jealous…or because what you do is weird.
No comments:
Post a Comment