Motherhood

"Mom, I’m hungwee."

This won’t make sense to many of you. If you have zero children or only one small, non talking child, or if, by some miracle, your child doesn’t do this (or you are a more patient person than I am) then you’ll wonder why I’m getting my panties in a bunch over something so insignificant, but it’s real. It’s a thing. I know it is because I’ve seen my friends gripe about it.

Kids ask to eat. ALOT. Now, duh, we are human and we need food to survive. But, it’s something so much bigger than this. It’s something so infuriating and annoying. It’s something that unless you have experienced it, it will make no sense to you.

You have a baby and the baby has instincts. Your baby cries when she’s tired or when she has a dirty diaper or when she’s HUNGRY. You nurse or bottle feed the baby. The baby drinks until she is no longer hungry. The end. It’s really a beautiful process that you don’t have the forethought to enjoy properly. Then a monkey wrench gets thrown in. Your world gets rocked. The kid grows up and TALKS (trust, this is not a good thing) and asks for food TWENTY FOUR SEVEN. Constant. No matter what you’re doing. No matter where you are. Your child is starving at all times. They are going to die if you don’t stop what you’re doing NOW and get them food. Then you go through the process that is feeding a kid. And, trust me, it’s a process. It’s not like when your baby is hungry: get bottle, mix formula, sit down and put bottle in baby’s mouth. Nope. It’s not like that. You have to go to the kitchen (which you JUST FREAKING CLEANED) and play “what do you want to eat” with the kid. You offer 3 healthy options which you KNOW your kid likes. Your kid asks for the thing you didn’t offer. You redirect and reoffer the 3 things again. The kid reasks for something not on the list. You go ’round one or two more times before you have the “these are your options, you can have one of these or nothing” talk. Your kid rolls their eyes at you because they’re your kid and payback is funny. Your kid resigns and asks for one of the three approved options.

You search for a kid friendly plate. You prepare the food. You put the food in front of the child who is now seated at the dinner table. The child asks for a drink. You prepare a drink for the child. (I could take some time to go into the mess that is “the special cup”, but I won’t because of time purposes and because I don’t know that I can handle my blood pressure shooting through the roof.) So, your child is seated with their food and their drink and they take one bite of whatever it is you gave them and then they get up and go about their business. One bite. That’s it. The kid that was starving is now full. One bite. This happens roughly 15 times a day. Your child literally enjoys seeing you fall apart when they ask for food. They think it’s hilarious that you have conversations with them about “not wasting” and “finishing everything on your plate first until you ask if you can have something else” as if ANYTHING is ever going to change! This is what you do all day long. All. day. long. Now, if you had nothing to do all day besides prepare, serve and clean up food all day this would be no big deal (if we take the waste factor out), but you have things to do and so this rocks you to your core. 

WHY MUST THEY. WHY. I told Elaina the other day that I die a little inside every time she says the words “I’m hungry”. Yep. I told that to my not-quite 4 year old. Am I proud of it? No, but it’s exactly what happens. A piece of me dies every time I hear that sentence come out of her mouth. If I were to offer up the physical pain that it causes me to hear “Mom, can I have a snack?” for the souls in purgatory, heaven would be flooded. Ha. That’s how big it feels to me. Truly. 

It’s not just about having to DO STUFF for your child. It’s not just about having to stop what I’m doing to cater to the kid I birthed. It’s about the LIE. YOU ARE NOT HUNGRY, you small dictator. You aren’t! Because if you were you wouldn’t waste so much darn food. All day. Every day. It’s the same. Always. “I will not waste my valuable time preparing food for you that you are not going to eat. It is a slap in the face to me. It says that you do not value my time. It infuriates me,” said Diana to her kid. And, with a blank stare and a sneaky freaking grin the kid responded, “so, I can’t have a stawberry is what you’re saying?”.

(Disclaimer: I like to find humor in kid things. I hope to write things that you relate to or that you find funny or that prepare you for the crap you’re about to go through. Please know that I KNOW I am lucky! I truly do! But, if I sat here writing every day about how beautiful and fulfilling and magical my life is (and it is!!) then it wouldn’t be my blog! Please keep this in mind when you read my posts. If you don’t know me in real life, then it’s hard to read things in Dianaese, but just know, it’s all in jest, my friend.)


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