Enjoying Food is a Rare Thing These Days

(This post is not about weight loss/gain, nor am I complaining. This is merely an observation).

I like food. I like to eat. I like to enjoy eating my food. Whether it be a tomato sandwhich, a granola bar, and a diet coke or a five star meal.....I like to savor every bite that goes into my mouth. Now, I am not one of those "lucky" people who claim to "love" food, yet they weigh less than 100 pounds, soaking wet. NO, you can tell I like to eat. But that is not the point of this post.

Until recently, I waited until Andrew was napping to eat breakfast and lunch. I would eat a late breakfast and lunch just to enjoy the meal, by myself with a book or the newspaper. I looked forward to eating without Andrew so that I could really enjoy every bite of that sandwhich or soup or leftovers. I would even wait until I knew that he was definately asleep until I ate. Because you can't really savor anything with a crying baby in the background! (Blogging included!)

Lately, I have decided (probably because I read something somewhere...) that Andrew needs to be included in our mealtimes. Meaning we all eat together.....at the table! Which actually translates into "count on never tasting anything that goes into your mouth while you are eating any meal with your child" or something like that.

Lunch usually goes okay, if I make it ahead of time. Otherwise, I am trying to feed a hungry, cranky baby while trying to get both our plates on the table. I usually can taste at least a little of my lunch in between telling Andrew "no" for throwing his food on the floor, grabbing extra paper towels, putting more food on his tray, getting his sippy cup that got left on the counter, picking up thrown food from the floor, and finally giving in and whipping out the applesauce when he won't eat anything else. Lunch, I can handle....although I do miss the taste of a tomato sandwhich this time of year, even though I eat one everyday.

Dinner is a different story. I don't remember the taste of dinner. After trying to get dinner prepared and on the table with a whining one year old attached to my hip (do they ever grow out of this fussy time?), I am usually exhausted by the time we sit down. Andrew is not. He still has to be corrected when he throws his food, food still has to be placed on his highchair, paper towels and sippy cups are forgotten and have to be fetched, a different food choice has to be offered when he refuses to eat, and he has to be calmed when he loudly complains that he is done....which is usually about the time I am taking my first bite.

At this point, I usually shovel in as much food as I can (healthy, right?) before grabbing loudmouth and heading to the bathtub.

Yes, tasting a dinner that I have spent all week planning for, shopping for, and cooking is a thing of the past. I guess when you have two children, you have adjusted to not tasting food and only eat when you "have time"; and with three children you must only enjoy meals on major holidays. Well, I guess it is all worth it because I am sure Andrew is learning valuable dinner manners and politeness at the ripe old age of one! I mean, I can't send him to Mother's Morning Out if he has never seen people gather around a table to eat, can I?