It was early dismissal yesterday at school. You know what that means? Less school for them and more cooking for me, shoveling snacks on their plates until they say the magic words they rarely utter, “I’m full.” When my children were toddlers I loved to feed them. It’s a primal satisfaction to provide a meal for your child, to have them eat it and be full. While it’s happening my reptilian brain is saying: “I get food. I give to you. You eat. Meat on bones. You survive winter.” The ancient code in my cells feels satisfied. Everything will be okay as long as my children are fed.
But everything wasn’t okay when they were toddlers. They wouldn’t eat. They didn’t care. I would do flips and cartwheels and handstands, cut the food in moons and stars and triangles and cover it with syrup and they still weren’t interested in eating. They thrived on juice and air.
You know when all it does is rain and rain and rain and you wish it would stop? Finally one day it stops and it doesn’t rain again and all the lawns and plants and expensive ornamental trees shrivel up and die and then that rain you wished away has gone and will never come back, no matter how much you try to convince it you’ve changed?
Now all I hear is “Mom, I’m hungry! I need food!” I find as much comfort in those words as I do from walking barefoot on a beige lawn of poky needles. Those words mean I need to do again. And I know it’s wrong and weird and a little Oedipal but I wish they were still breastfeeding so I could just sit in the rocking chair and let them get their own nutrition while I stare into space wondering how much longer this is going to go on and how soon is too soon to wean them without emotionally scarring them for life?
Don’t think I’m the only woman who has ever thought that. I am definitely not. We all think it. Or maybe a lot of us do. Or maybe only the mentally ill ones, which would include the sleep deprived and premenstrual and those tired of cooking. But still. These are thoughts that are thought amongst moms of bottomless-pit-starving teens and tweens who ironically wouldn’t touch food when they were toddlers, not that we’re holding that against them, but we poured ourselves into them when they were little and now Mommy’s feeling spent. She’s googling colleges to see which ones take 9 and 13-year olds. Doogie Howser graduated from Princeton at the age of 10. So, if that’s the standard I am way behind. I need to get moving on those college apps.
After they go to bed at night I’ll burn the midnight oil, fill out the admissions forms and see if I can get them into a college with an awesome meal plan. Then I’ll clean up after their bedtime snack – two bowls of cereal, crackers and cheese, grapes, scrambled eggs, toast, carrots, celery, yogurt that they open but decide they don’t really want after all. They’re tired. They aren’t full but they’re too tired to eat another bite.
They’ll get up in the morning because the growling in their stomachs awakened them and their reptilian brains said, “Get up! It could be a bear!” But they are the bear. That’s where the term “getting up on the wrong side of the bed” comes from, in case you’re wondering. They pad out to the kitchen all cranky and hungry and it starts all over again. It’s why I love school, especially full days at school. It gives me just a few hours where I don’t have to make anybody anything that they may or may not eat. I can cook myself a nice lunch with herbs and spices and vegetables my children would never eat. But what do I do? I make a peanut butter and jelly on white bread, cut it in little triangles after I’ve removed the crust.
That gap on my resume between my last paying job and the next…I think about that gap and imagine filling it up with mature words like manager, director, coordinator. Pretty words for raising children. I’ll land one of those jobs and show up with a juice box, a cheese stick, a sandwich cut in triangles and two oreos packed in a Scoobie Doo lunch bag. If anybody calls me on it I’ll say, “I just hope my 9-year old is enjoying his chicken gruyere with sautéed mushrooms!” Act like there’s been a mix up.
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This is too funny!
I’ve an almost-9 year old and a 5 year-old. When my almost-9 year-old was a toddler, I had a hard time getting her to eat anything at all. Now she’s *always* hungry! My 5 year-old, on the other hand, was such a great eater as a toddler, but now it’s such a chore getting her to eat!
I still love them to pieces, though
OMG! Stop it–I can’t breathe, I’m laughing so!!
It’s very important to let go.
That’s a coliary idea, Mr. Farty, I want to but I just can’t let go.
I was telling my gfs about your phone the other day. It’s a riot. “Your” brilliant!
I’m thinking if you tell your 13 year old that you want to go back to breast feeding, he’ll lose his appetite pretty quick.
I hadn’t thought of that. I thought maybe he’d run to the kitchen, throw open the fridge door and pull out all the ingredients to make a Dagwood sandwich to satiate his appetite for a week!
i did for 12 months and got tired…lol..can not even imagine how one can do more
Your stories are great.
Had a free night to blog hop and so enjoyed yours. Hope you will stop by new Christmas blog…
I once made a meal for my kid when she was two I gave here five different things to choose from. She then proceeded to toss it all on the floor. I will never forget that night and so have taken her out to dinner ever since
Love your stories! Following from MBC…. Best, Sarah
I don’t have kids, but this post is very funny! Thanks for my morning laugh today. And I think I’m a little hungry now too.
Mine is almost four, and depending on whether or not we are in the middle of a growth spurt, he either refuses to eat anything or wants to eat his own weight in food. Both of these situations freak me out, as I am neurotically worrying about him starving -or- wondering how much his stomach can physically hold. (Isn’t a stomach supposed to be as big as the stomach-owner’s fist? I’ve seen this kid eat six fists, easy.)
This was a really entertaining piece. You are preparing me for older boy-ness and I do appreciate the heads up!
I’m at that stage where they are still eating off the floor. My son was eating everything he could get his hands on today so I think he must be growing. He’s only 1 and a half. My daughter is 2.5 I’ve got a ways to go before I’m near where you are
I remember when my youngest was a toddler and walked into the kitchen one morning after playing at the train table in his room, with a piece of stale spelt toast in his mouth. We had been OUT of spelt bread for over a week. Did I take it away from him? No. He looked happy.
Little known teething secret. Week old stale toast hits the spot.
I think you need to go into writing a book series!
As for the resume gap..This is straight off of mine (don’t judge me, love me) “Mastered cooking and baking skills similar to task in the (esthetics) field: minding temperatures and time, measuring, mixing, spreading, and using sensitive and dexterous touch.” I can just hear those spa ladies yucking it up.
So Funny I’ve been thinking about my kids half day on Friday. Funny you can make the food in shapes and make faces – they tell me “today, I don’t like circle food.” Urgh I just want to SCREAM! Yes breastfeeding is much easier…
Im Hungry! {giggles}
I’m tired just reading it, and a little hungry
)