Dinner time torture

The dinner time table has been getting our of hand.

It seems like recently every meal time I am stressed, shouting and nearly ready to walk out the door.

What on earth is going on!!

The kids say they are hungry at 5pm and when dinner is ready at 6pm they struggle to eat it and they haven't had anything to eat since 3.30pm. I can't understand it. Are they so hungry they aren't hungry anymore? They take nearly 45 minutes then to eat and pick at their food, moving it around the plate like it's on holiday. Little Miss likes to leave the table at least three or four times, forgetting that she should be eating and B seems to find endless amusement in a pen, paperclip or rubber band that happens to be on the table to play with, instead of concentrating on his dinner. Little Miss forgets to use a fork and thinks its okay to use her fingers and B will throw anything he thinks is "disgusting" off his plate onto Little Miss's. But one of the most frustrating things is that once B is finally tucked up in bed he creeps up stairs to announce, "I'm hungry." Let me tell you his declaration is not received very well.

I have always believed that we should eat together every night as a family. It may be wrong, but I also use bribery to encourage my kids to eat their greens. They get a sweet treat, like a banana lolly or chocolate frog, if they eat some of everything on their plates. We also frequently take our kids to cafes so they 'get' the whole table manners thing. And I try to make food fun with silly food faces. But with this kind of carry on I'm considering making two meals each night so that my husband and I can actually enjoy a meal.

Out of sheer frustration I decided we should have some explicit rules for dinner time. I asked the kids what they thought the rules should be and I was completely shocked by their answers.

1. No throwing food
2. No kicking under the table (people or table)
3. No shouting at the table or arguing including 'talk back'
4. No rocking on the chairs
5. No leaving table without a reasonable excuse
6. Use cutlery (unless its finger food)
7. Keep food on your plate and eat off your plate
8. No toys or playing at the table
9. No feet on the table


Now they just need to stick to them.

Ever wondered how pencils are made?

Little Miss and B were fascinated to watch this short film to find out how pencils are made.

Thanks to my nephew for sharing.

On Show

When I was a little girl the high points of the year were Christmas, my birthday and the Royal Show. Luckily for me these anticipated events were spaced out quite nicely over the year, with never more than four months wait before the fun started again.

However the Royal Show was my absolute favourite. For some reason my birthday, my special day, grew a bit uncomfortable for me. As a child I wasn't happy in the limelight and hated that the day never really met my unrealistic expectations. I didn't really like everyone looking at me, and I was confronted with presents telling of how people didn't know me very well.

Christmas was of course fantastic, it had its own special build up, starting with a wish and a stir of Mum's Christmas pudding. The shop displays would cheer on the festivities, then the pageant would mark the arrival of Santa in the magic cave. And like the lucky children we were, there would be lots of presents, lots of family and lots of food on the day.

However the expectation or journey of Christmas, like opening the advent calendar one window at a time was often more enjoyable to my child self than the day itself. People didn't always behave like you would expect at Christmas, maybe it was the stress of it all, or the alcohol consumed, but that one day of indulgence, like the rise and fall of a roller coaster was fun, but strangely nauseating.

The Royal Show on the other hand always met my expectations. My mum would have a carefully laid out plan that lead us through the show grounds like search and rescue personnel, never missing an attraction. But the absolute best thing about the show was hearing the word "Yes". My Mum used to have some favourite sayings to ease back the pain of saying "No" to me. Her favourite was, "Not today Josephine", which I hated. To abate my thirst or hunger while out, I would hear, "When you get home" and when it came to presents, to ease my anxiety to know what they contained she would always say, "All secrets will be revealed." But at the show there were no secrets, there were plenty of pit stops at the CWA cafe and Mum used to say "Yes" all day long.

So with the Royal Show in town all I wanted to do was say, "Yes" to B and Little Miss, just like my Mum. Yes to the rides, yes to the show bags, yes to hot donuts and yes to looking at whatever they wanted to see. In lieu of big birthday parties this year the show was the carrot, and we did eat.

Little Miss watched her idol fairies perform


B fell slid from a titanic height, just for fun.

We saw and touched pigs, horses, rabbits, dogs and TV watching cows.

Ate hot donuts


Went on the Ferris wheel

Drove a fire engine


Gave out free hugs

And smiled and laughed a lot.

Until it was finally time to go home. 

I asked Little Miss what she thought of the Show and she said, "It was so awesome, I just wanted to shout hooray!"

I tried to ask B the same question but he was distracted by his Army show bag. To our horror it contained not one but four toy guns. He asked me, "Which one of these guns is more powerful?"

I said, "I don't know about guns, except that they kill people."

To which B replied, "How come you told me about snail guns then."

After I stopped laughing I managed to say, "I think you might mean slug guns."

The Royal Adelaide show is on the second week of September every year at the Wayville show grounds on Goodwood Road.

Food Face #10

Frank and Furt came over after school to play the other day. They didn't hang around long though, but they did make everyone smile.

Its okay

Its okay that he runs when I want him to walk.

Its okay that he never listens and is distracted by everything around him.

Its okay that he eats loudly and never closes his mouth.

Its okay his room is a mess and his stuff litters the house.

Its okay that he has emptied a bottle of conditioner in the bath and used three towels to dry.

Its okay that he calls Little Miss "Pisster" then pushes in front of her.

Its even okay when he says he doesn't like me anymore and that I am "Mean Mum."

And its probably even okay that he leaves urine in the toilet and sometimes number 2s.

Why?

Because he is my living, breathing, healthy, happy child and I love him unconditionally.