I’ve Been Downsized
My job has been outsourced.
My position has been eliminated.
My services are no longer required.
I’ve had an involuntary separation…
…from the job of feeding my daughter.
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Eating
Surely You Must Be Choking!
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There was an AP story the other day about the American Academy of Pediatrics wanting companies to start labeling hotdogs, carrots, grapes and other foods as choking hazards. Which, admittedly, they are. And sidewalks are tripping hazards, and puddles are slipping hazards, and trees are bumping-int0 hazards. The minute you decide to get up off the floor and sit on a chair (falling hazard) or couch (fire hazard) or go out the door (big, wide world-hazard) you are taking your life into your hands.
Toddler Lunch Fiasco
I took my 2 year old son to a diner with three of my friends and each of their 2 year olds and it was a disaster. We hadn’t all gone to lunch in awhile. It seemed like a good idea. We had come prepared. We had crayons, markers, cars, and trains. We put them into their high chairs, gave them their toys and tried to start a conversation. My son wanted the train that the other boy had and the other boy wanted the train that another girl had. This involved much screaming, crying and eventually a train being thrown (at my son’s head).
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Wanted Desperately: Adult Dinner Companion
To my beloved, cherished adult friends:
Words cannot express my deep, deep, deeeeeeeeeep (like the recesses of the ocean, where all those creepy eye-less fish live) desire to dine with you. Maybe here?Maybe in a withered cardboard box on my sidewalk. It really doesn’t matter. What matters is that I will not have to employ methods like timing you or racing you to get you to sit in your chair. Nor will I have to sit stuffed animals in the chair next to you and move their arms enthusiastically to prove that sitting at a table is fun.
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Fighting the Lunchtime Crazies
With one child it was not so bad. I made her lunch, served it and typically ate alongside her. Adding a second child into the mix, in full high-chair utilizing mode, has suddenly made lunchtime incredibly crazy. I have begun to do everything the “experts” say not to do. I eat standing up. I eat on the run. I never feel relaxed or satisfied. When lunchtime is over I’m hard pressed to tell you just what exactly it was that I ate. If I try to sit down to eat my own food someone else needs more milk, more fruit, more whatever. More everything. Each time I sit down there is another request. So now I no longer sit.
I was discussing this with my mother this week and she said, “Just do what my mother did, she had four kids after all.” Apparently my grandmother simply made an announcement one day that when she sat down to eat she wasn’t getting up until she was finished. That’s it. I decided to employ this rule in my house and it worked too. I made every one’s lunch, didn’t serve it until everything was ready for everyone and when I did, I made sure I sat down too. As I sat at the table I explained to the kids, “I need to eat at the same time as you, I will not be getting up until I am finished with my food. If you need anything you can get it yourself or wait until I am done. That is how it will work from now on. Understand?” And for the most part they did.
It takes me more advance thinking on my part as well as coordination and planning to serve everyone all at once instead of as I make the food, but I’m more sane and relaxed this way. If I’m more sane, then so is everyone else.
Toddler Hunger Strike
My 3 year old is on a hunger strike. Well sort of. She’s not protesting anything, except parental authority of any kind. And she’s not quite starving herself. Apparently it’s okay to eat chicken nuggets, pizza, and waffles. But nothing else!
I know I’m supposed to be the one in control but if I don’t give her these options then she doesn’t eat anything. And she doesn’t seem to mind going to sleep without dinner. I can’t bear to let a child go to bed on an empty stomach. It kills me. So I don’t. And I give in.
The other day we went out to a nice restaurant for my mother’s birthday. When I called ahead, they said that they offered pizza. Unfortunately it was an adult’s version of pizza on fancy bread with fancy sauce and even fancy cheese. She didn’t go for it. Her dinner consisted of some maraschino cherries which interestingly enough are now allowed within the strict guidlines of her diet. Atleast she’s expanding her horizons.
My boys don’t eat green vegetables
My boys don’t eat green vegetables. I don’t even insist that they do. I feed them carrots and corn, and they eat almost every fruit I put in front of them. Vegetables aren’t worth the fight. I give them vitamins. My boys don’t have to eat what we eat for dinner either. If they don’t like what I make, they can make themselves a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Again, it’s not worth the fight. I would rather fight about homework, and being nice to your little brother than eating fish because I wanted fish for dinner. I think its kind of wrong to tell someone they are supposed to eat what you think they should eat. Now, I am practical and don’t feed them candy 24/7, but sometimes, 2 PB&J’s and some apples are fine to take the place of pot roast.
The Myth of Exercise
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I’ve been scooped!!! TIME magazine’s August cover story “Why Exercise Won’t Make You Thin,” is exactly what I have been saying for 33 years! Yes, way back in 1976 when the aerobics-go-for-the-burn craze was starting, I was skeptical. So I tried running. I felt everything drop: my face; my uterus; and my arches! But apparently, other females didn’t agree since running morphed into killer aerobic classes and millions of females starting jumping up and down urged on by Jane Fonda’s workout tapes. (Years later she apologized for the injuries people sustained.)
My Child the Dog
My 2-year old kept eating our dog’s food. I was constantly moving it around but whereever I put it he would find it. Finally I gave up and let him nibble on it whenever he wanted. After a week of eating the forbidden dog food he got bored and stopped.
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Boardwalks, Meltdowns, and Diabolical Baby Formula
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We were visiting family in Ocean City NJ. So that’s myself, my wife, and our four year old daughter and one year old son. And when you’re in Ocean City, NJ there are only two things to do. Go to the beach, and then go to the boardwalk. I don’t like the beach. It’s hot, sunny and sandy. What can I say, I’m an indoor cat. But I survived a few trips to the beach. (One dude generously let me borrow his shovel so I could actually secure the beach umbrella in 75 mph wind.) Hot yet windy. Even better.
