My toddler has finally entered the “I don’t eat to live” phase. He’s not picky. He just doesn’t need more than a lick of anything to keep ticking. He’ll suck all the juice out of a sliced orange leaving the rest on the plate, lick a pickle slice and spoon up a pile of mustard or salsa and call it good.
Have I mentioned I’m doing it different with this one? I made the first one uptight. Or she just is. Or I am. I don’t know. I sorta tied her hands behind her back and now she “can’t”. Just ‘cause I always “did”. And I do it so fucking well. There’s no way she’s going to embarrass us by fucking it up. I knew this when she was three and I busted her shouting at her friends for organizing her books incorrectly on her shelf during clean up time. But… she was right so what are you gonna do?
SO when this one raids the refrigerator to feed himself I try not to wonder if he’s going to alphabetize the condiments when he puts them back in the door and instead focus on his can do attitude. When we lose a jug of milk to gravity because two year old noodle arms can’t lift it .. I don’t make him cry about it. I just toss a towel on the floor and talk about the way spiderman downs water like he’s actually fishman.
But now that he’s not eating dinner. And since The Man doesn’t seem to eat food as much as magically transport it from plate to belly without ever tasting it. And since The Girls hate everything except the mac n’ cheese they requested made with Velveeta that I’m sure is still in my lower intestine somewhere breaking down at the pace of Styrofoam next to all the gum I’ve swallowed. I don’t want to cook.
I don’t. I don’t want to plan meals. Or buy the ingredients. Or chop. Fucking chopping. My gawd. And the standing there watching so it doesn’t burn. The stirring. The clean up. My gawd. Fucking food. What a waste of energy. I swear.. How does anyone gain weight with all the work of creating meals?
But these people!! (my kids are now these people) They demand food on the table five times a day so they can scrape it into the garbage can. Oh I know. You want me to make them eat it. You want me to sit their and negotiate bites with them. Fuck that. And we wonder why we have all the eating disorders. Oh sure, blame the skinny asses in the magazines if you want but who the fuck even buys a magazine anymore?
I don’t give a flying fuck if they eat. I count on their bellies to tell them when to eat. I just provide the food. But I’m considering a raw diet. Still with the chopping… I always slice the shit out of my fucking feckless fingers. I wonder what they would say if I slammed some veggies down without peeling the carrots, or slicing the celery so it doesn’t string out and strangle down their throats? *sigh* They would want ranch. And I think the toddler is allergic. His entire lower face turns pink and slightly raised like that time I tried Nair on my nethers.
*****Nair is satan revealing himself as YOU from inside a bottle!*****
So I can’t seem to find a way out of the endless cycle of food. *slams head on counter top and slides to floor that needs mopped and stares at ceiling wondering how long those bugs have been dead carcasses inside the light thingy* Why haven’t we figured out some better way? Why can’t we all just plant edible shit everywhere and let our children graze the way it was intended. (I’m pretty sure only humans would make this so fucking hard)
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