Do we really have to eat?

Here's what's on my mind this morning:

As soon as my kids wake up in the morning, and make their way bleary-eyed into my room, they want to eat. Kyla starts signing "eat" or "milk" the instant I get her out of bed. Allie, who rarely wakes up happy, is asking for a bowl of cereal and a drink of milk. And Damon, who is usually far more patient than the other two, is not usually far behind. Feeding my kids is a full time job. And it's one I disdain.

Allie, who claims to be starving, will routinely take between 6 and 8 bites of her cereal before deciding she's done. She'll spill her milk as she tries to get down from the table and halr-heartedly clean it up. About 30 minutes later, she will return to the kitchen, hungry again (what? 6 bites of Cheerios isn't going to get you through until lunch?), and will ask for another kind of cereal. I will remind her that she is more than welcome to have something else to eat. Provided she finishes her (now soggy) Cheerios first. Nearly every day we follow this little script, and at this point, Allie will do one of three things:

1. Throw a fit and come up with an excuse why she can't finish it (today it was, "I'm really getting sick of it.")
2. Throw a fit and refuse, resulting in a very sad and miserable girl until lunch.
3. Throw a fit and finally choke the soggy cereal down, resulting in a second bowl for her.

Fun, huh? Kyla will sit in her high chair eating all day long. And when she finally gets sick of something, she'll just toss it on the floor and go back to signing "milk" and "eat." All day long.

Damon appears to have learned a lot from Allie's morning ritual. He skips most of the drama. But he still wants to eat.

It's not long after breakfast ends, the dishes are cleared, the kitchen cleaned, when it's time to start again for lunch. Some days I give in and let them have peanut butter sandwiches. But most of the time I encourage them to "broaden their horizons" and let their body try something else. This usually is met with some more whining and/or impatience, but eventually we make it through lunch, and get it cleaned up. Kyla still sits in her high chair, eating.

Then before I even blink, it's snack time. I scour the cupboards for something healthy to go along with the crackers they demand, and after seconds and sometimes thirds, I finally convince them to stop eating so they will be able to eat dinner.

Dinner is either eaten quickly and very well (depending on what it is and how many crackers I've actually let them eat), or filled again with complaining. "This makes me sick," is something Allie has been known to say often when she doesn't like the meal I have prepared. I remind the children that they can choose not to eat, but that often times that choice means they will be hungry until breakfast. It's not often that they choose this, but it definitely does happen. If there is dessert involved, dinner seems to go over much better. Most of the time, though, it is a fight I am tired of fighting.

Can't we just stop eating for a while? Is that too much to ask? I think the planning, preparation, eating, and cleaning up of meals is one of my least favorite things about being a mother. I propose that we do away with lunch. Breakfast and dinner should be enough. And then I wouldn't feel like I am a slave to the kitchen.