Anyone for Lunch?

Glance at the clock. 11:42 am.

I guess I should start making lunch. I'll ask Meg what she wants . . . at least if I let her choose I know she'll eat it.

"Meg, what's for lunch today?" I ask.
"Ummmm . . . Chicken Nuggets," Meg replies.

Of course. Well, at least the are easy to make. I'll give her something 'healthy' to go along with it.

Open refrigerator.

Cheese. Cheese is good. She'll definitely eat cheese. And strawberries. Cheese, strawberries, and nuggets. And milk. Now for Kate . . . let's see, she has some broccoli in here . . . which she hates . . . so I'll give her this 1/2 container of broccoli and some sweet potatoes. At least I know she'll eat the sweet potatoes.

Remove items. Close fridge. Open freezer.

Chicken nuggets. Oh, and here is a bag of frozen peas I could throw on the stove for Kate. She needs more baby food, anyway. Will I have time to blend them . . . sure, while they nap. I'll cook while they eat and then finish making the baby food when they nap.

Well, now that I'm making peas, is there anything else around here I can make? How about I throw a couple of potatoes in the oven . . . those take about an hour. I'll blend those after the peas.

Turn on oven. Get potatoes out of the pantry, rinse, wrap in foil, throw in the oven.

What was I doing? Oh yes, chicken nuggets. Meg's lunch. That's right.

Put frozen peas in a pot with water. Set on the stove to boil. Put nuggets on a plate and into the microwave. Rinse and cut strawberries. Retrieve nuggets, add strawberries to the plate. Unwrap cheese stick.

"Meg, your lunch is ready . . ."

What do I want for lunch? Sandwich? Ugh, I don't feel like making one. What's in the pantry? No better options. Okay, I guess I'll make myself a sandwich.

Go to the table, get Meg settled. Grab a 'sputtering' and complaining Kate, put her in her high chair with some Gerber Puffs to hold her off. Put her broccoli in the microwave to take the chill off.

Phone Rings.

Who calls at this time? Anyone who knows me knows that I'm busy at noon. I don't have time to answer . . . ugh, I'll answer it anyway.

Stop everything, grab the phone. Microwave beeps. It's Grandaddy (my dad), calling to ask Meg a question. Take the call, forget about Kate's lunch . . . Kate starts to complain.

"Well, it sounds like you guys are pretty busy at your house, I'll just talk to you later . . ." Grandaddy says.

Thanks. Good. What was I doing? Kate's lunch, that's right.

Hang up. Give Kate more puffs, desperate to hold her off for another minute.

"I need some milk," Meg requests.

Of course you do. Could you at least ask nicely?

"Can you use some kind words when you are asking me to do something, please?" I say.
"Please. I need some milk please," Meg says.

Pour Meg's milk, deliver it to the table. Give Kate a couple more puffs. Grab her lunch out of the microwave and collect her feeding items (bib, spoon, food, sippy cup). Sit down with Meg and Kate.

I guess I'll eat later. Let me just take care of them now, and I'll eat in a little while.

Start feeding Kate.

"I all done now. You say it's all right for me to push back from the table?" Meg says, plate nearly empty.

At least she ate most of her lunch. But, yet another wasted glass of milk . . .

Water is boiling on the stove, and spills over just enough to hissssss through the kitchen. Jump up, move the peas off the burner.

Kate cries.

"I all done," Meg says again.

"You need to stay at the table with us until we are done with lunch. I can only do one thing at a time, Meg," I respond.

Return to the table. Continue to feed Kate. Meg eats a little more and is very patient for a while. We chat about what's going on, what we are going to do after naps.

She's doing so well. She's so big. I think it's been long enough . . . I'll let her get up now.

"Are you sticky?" I ask Meg.
"Nope."
"Okay, it's OK to push back from the table now," I say.

Door bell rings.

"Somebody is here!" Meg bellows and runs to the front door.

Drop everything (again), go to the door to find a package from Fed Ex waiting outside.

Ugh. All that commotion for a package. Really, I should tell them no to ring the doorbell. It's just a photo delivery.

Kate cries from her chair. Meg jumps and bounces back toward the kitchen.

Man, I'm hungry. Kate's nearly done . . . I've almost made it to nap time.

Finish feeding Kate. Collect all the dishes and pile them in the sink.

I remember a day when I never left dishes in the sink. Now look . . . breakfast AND lunch are staring me in the face. Maybe I'll take care of that during naps, too.

Girls go upstairs for nap. Return downstairs to a very quiet 1st floor.

I have all of that in the kitchen to do . . . and I need to eat something . . . but let me just stop and check my email for a minute . . .