Cold Lunch Busted. Resolution #8

Meals used to be easy.  I was Queen, and what I made was eaten.  The end.  I would make a lovely roast or meatloaf or lasagna and we would eat to our heart's content.  But things change.  Children grow and get smarter and aren't as easily manipulated.  I liked it when I would pick something for the kids to eat, dig a spoon in it, actually put it in their mouths, and they would smile.  Or grimace.  But they still opened up for that spoon.  My twelve-year-old has become a big problem in the meal department.  And I'm all, "What, you don't like pureed roast?" and she's all, "Mgbsb Msjfdo Merhsoid!" and I took the spoon out and she said, "Mom, I'm in Middle School, I can feed myself!" and I was like, "Oh, so now you're going to get an attitude with me?"

These are our current food issues.

• Current Husband and I have been on MediFast since August (see part about roasts, meatloaf, and lasagna), so in theory our meals are bars and shakes and then a "lean and green" meal for dinner.  In theory.  Because I can't make it without chocolate and wine.  Or pasta.  Or Thai food.

Here is what we're supposed to eat:

 Here is what I will eat:  Anything.  Accompanied by these:

• Oldest Daughter declared herself a vegetarian about 8 months ago, but she doesn't actually like vegetables.  So she restricts herself to the food categories of Cheese, Bread, Pasta, and Fruit. 

Here is what I buy for OD to eat:

Here is what OD eats:

• Middle Son didn't used to be picky, but now he's 10, so on Monday he will say "I don't like that anymore" and on Wednesday he will say "I love that!" to the same dish.  And he is eating everything.  I don't think that's him speaking.  He is ruled by his stomach, which he actually has told us from the age of 5 is a cow stomach with four compartments.  I used to laugh.  We are getting him checked for tapeworm.  (And if he has one, I've asked the doctor to save it for me, because those suckers really work.)

MS preparing his third between-lunch-and-dinner-third-stomach snack:

Parasite MS probably has, which I will be eating, a la Maria Callas:

 

• Youngest Daughter.  Sigh.  

Can you make a salad out of Laffy Taffy?

Breakfast is pretty easy (Hello Toaster Strudel and Jack Daniels!), dinner is horrible, and lunch is a challenge.  OD will only eat middle school hot lunch if they are having cheese pizza, which surprisingly is actually NOT nutritious!  (I know!  I was shocked too.)  Since the elementary hot lunches consist of a rotation of Ballpark Hot Dog, Cheeseburger, Fried Cheese, Crisco Soup, and the infamous Jimmy Dean sausage link wrapped with a blueberry pancake, my kids normally opt for cold lunch. I try to keep the lunches interesting.  This is where I went horribly wrong this week:

Or, as they are now known in my house:  

"How Mom Shows She Loves You More".

ME:  "How was everyone's day?"

KIDS:  "Great!"
(Note:  This isn't the real response, but it's much easier than "Matilda told Hayley that she couldn't be the dog in our game, and then Hayley said she wouldn't be friends with her anymore, and then Cassie and I had to decide how to make them BOTH the lead dogs...")

YD:  "Thanks for the Ho-ho's Mom, they were awesome!"

MS:  "Yeah, thanks!"

OD:  "What Ho-ho's?"

SILENCE.  My eyes are darting around the room, looking for something to yell at them about.

OD:  "Mom?  What.  Ho. Ho's."  Because OD takes her pre-packaged dessert foods seriously.

ME:  "Well, uh, you know how we were almost out of gas this morning on the way to school?  And how we didn't have milk?  And then I dropped you off and we made it so it wouldn't be embarrassing for you to have the van run out of gas in front of the Middle School and the school cop would have to help me push the van out of the lane with me in my pajama bottoms?  Aren't you glad that didn't happen?"  I laugh nervously.

OD:  "Yes.  Yes I am.  When did the Ho-ho's happen in that story?"

ME:  "Oh!  So anyway, I drove to the gas station and had to buy a gallon of milk for $8 and needed a $10 minimum for my debit card, so I threw some Ho-ho's in there to put in lunches."  I watch OD start to get angry.  Very angry.  And she is very hormonal and almost as tall as me.  I panic.  "And besides, you know I love you more because I gave you that $100 the other day!  Ha, ha, ha!"

YD, MS:  "What!  You gave her money?!"

ME:  "Yes, to make up for not putting Ho-ho's in her lunch!"  Still nervously laughing.

OD:  Eyes glinting wickedly.  "She did.  Do you want to see it?"

Oh crap.  I DID give OD a $100 bill the other day, because she gets paid for A's on her report card, and I cashed a babysitting check for her.  Now OD has the proof that I gave her $100, and the younger children think it's real.  Like the Tooth Fairy.  Lies!  My entire relationship with them is based on lies!

ME:  "Um, actually, that money was for grades and babysitting.  I don't love her more.  Actually, we fight a lot."

ALL OF THE CHILDREN STARE AT ME.  EVERYONE IS NOW ANGRY.  I SLOWLY BACK DOWN THE HALL AND GRAB MY ROLLING PIN.  I SEE MY PURSE.  I REMEMBER A LINDOR CHOCOLATE TRUFFLE IS IN THERE.  I AM SAVED.  I THROW IT AT OD.
ME: "There!  There is a chocolate for you!  Now everyone had chocolate today!  Anyone who follows me has to fold laundry!"
I back into my bedroom.  Predictably, the kids shuffle away, muttering, and go back to their texting and plotting.

RESOLUTION #8:  Stop sharing pre-packaged desserts with the children.

Because that is one Ho that done me wrong.  And after the traumatic episode with the kids?  I was out of chocolate.  Foiled again.