Dinnertime: a moment for family bonding, a chance to nourish our children, and a brief respite from the chaos of the day. But when you have toddlers? Not so much.
Is there anything more disheartening than the disappointment that accompanies mealtime? Honestly, I’m exhausted by dinner preparation. I’ve lost count of the hours spent crafting a meal, only to be met with the looks of utter disdain from my little ones, as if I’m serving them something straight out of a horror movie.
I’m tired of racing through the grocery store, scouring the produce section for the freshest, most vibrant ingredients to create a hopeful stew, only for my toddler to grimace and upend his plate, sending the food flying. My three-year-old joins in, laughing and tossing carrot sticks and peas to our dog while stealing glances at me, gauging my reaction of a mixture between frustration and disbelief.
The cruelest part? The following day, I find myself starting the whole cycle over again with that misguided optimism, investing my afternoon into another healthy meal that will inevitably end up in the dog’s bowl.
So, What’s a Parent to Do?
When I declare dinner is over and remove their plates, I retreat to the kitchen feeling defeated. It’s almost guaranteed that they’ll be begging for snacks just fifteen minutes before bedtime—extra points if they ask after brushing their teeth.
Should I cave and offer them a small, nutritious snack, or let them go to bed hungry? Honestly, I’m at a loss, having tried both approaches along with a handful of others out of sheer desperation.
I hear other parents boast, “My kids adore salad,” or “My son always asks for more,” or, my personal favorite, “My children only eat organic.” Fantastic! Would you like a trophy for that?
Jokes aside, where am I going wrong? Is it my cooking skills, my inability to enforce rules and watch my kids go hungry, or are my little ones simply pickier than others?
Yesterday, I finally threw my hands in the air and tossed a frozen pizza in the oven. As I watched them devour the “dinner of champions,” I felt a mix of defeat and resignation. They had won this round, and they knew it.
And while a part of me is frustrated, my ever-optimistic side whispers, “Fed is best…” After all, a half-eaten pizza slice is certainly better than a neglected kale salad. I grew up on fast food, and I turned out just fine.
Ultimately, this isn’t the battle that will determine my parenting success. It’s just a bump in the road—next month will bring a new challenge (one can only hope). By the time my kids reach their pre-teen years, I’ll probably find myself reminiscing about the days when my biggest concern was their preference for junk food over vegetables.
I’ll keep trying, of course. As a parent to two little ones, I’m already under-caffeinated, sleep-deprived, and navigating this chaotic journey. Tonight, I’ll experiment with a new recipe involving hummus-crusted chicken, and tomorrow, I might break out my Instant Pot. But I’ll keep a frozen pizza ready for those inevitable moments. I may maintain a sense of hope, but I’m not naïve.
Summary
Dealing with picky eaters can be a frustrating and thankless task for parents. Despite the challenges, it’s essential to remember that every mealtime doesn’t have to be a battle. Embracing flexibility and understanding that sometimes convenience wins out can help ease the stress. Remember, you’re not alone in this parenting journey.