Sticky Fingers and Hungry Tummies

Today was not a great day.  They can't all be, I guess, but whoa.

It's been a really long week, and it's only Wednesday.  It's so hard to get back into the routine after such a long, winter break.  The kiddos are sleepy.  I'm cranky.  We have to get up when it's really dark.  I have to make lunches.  And dinner.  And it's rough.

So keep all of that in mind and then consider this:

As I was unpacking Jack's backpack and getting ready to help him with his homework, I noticed some Lego figures that were definitely not ours.  As I called Jack into the kitchen, he mumbled something about "finding things lately," but also looked incredibly guilty and already knew he was in trouble.  After a long time-out in his room and a longer chat about doing the right thing and considering how he'd feel if someone failed to return something he'd lost, he came downstairs to write an apology to his teacher.

As he was writing, I couldn't help thinking about where Brad and I had gone wrong.  How could Jack, even for an instant, think this was acceptable behavior?  I was proud of the way I handled the situation: I stayed calm.  I didn't yell, and I stressed that everyone makes mistakes and it's what we do when we make those mistakes that matters.  But at the same time my inner-mommy voice was saying that I'm not sure that taking Lego figures counts as a mistake.  It felt like a mommy-fail.

Then after a half hour of listening to Hannah Bear say she was hungry as dinner was cooking, we sat down to eat, and within seconds, I could tell she wasn't going to eat the chicken and noodle casserole I'd served.  She probably ate one spoonful collectively, and I knew she was hungry.  I'd previously told her that after dinner she could eat the fruit snacks she'd asked about earlier, but when she realized she wasn't going to get those after she didn't eat her dinner, she cried.  Oh, did she cry.

So neither little lovely was a happy camper this evening.  And neither am I.

And it's only Wednesday :(

last night

Last night was horrible.  Maybe the worst night ever.

It was Thursday, our fourth day back in a semi-normal routine.  We had Tae Kwon Do.  The kids were tired and ready for the weekend.

This past weekend, Brad successfully got Jack to eat salmon by telling him that it gave him bear-strength.  And he totally bought it.  I'm not sure Jack's ever eaten as much meat in one sitting as he did the other night.  It was amazing.  And he was soooo proud of himself!

So, when I made a random trip to Costco, Brad asked me to pick up some salmon.  I don't eat salmon, but it looked pretty good.  Covered in butter and dill, it looked promising.  It was going to go bad if we didn't cook it last night, so after Tae Kwon Do, I came home and threw it in the oven.  Jack immediately started making faces and saying that he didn't like that kind of salmon.

Hannah doesn't like salmon, so I made her something else to eat.  I think leftover spaghetti, but it really doesn't matter - it was something she asked for and then declined.

Jack wouldn't eat salmon.  Hannah wouldn't eat her dinner.  She was sent to her room for crying and throwing a fit.  Jack wouldn't eat the salmon even with the seasonings cut off.  I felt bad, and I was miserably unhappy that, once again, dinner was a huge disaster.  

Jack said he didn't like it and didn't want to eat it.  I took it away and made him half a sandwich on the yummy croissants he loves so much.  He started crying that he wanted the salmon back because he wanted the bear-strength.  Getting the salmon back after his initial crying fit was not an option.  Cue harder crying.  Now he wouldn't eat the sandwich I made him either.  And Hannah was still not eating her dinner.

Both kids went to bed over-tired and probably very hungry.  No story.  No extra snuggles.  I'm pretty sure I cried as I cleaned up the THREE uneaten dinners from the table.  And put them to bed.

I think we need a Tae Kwon Do hiatus.  It's too much.  It makes the rest of our Tuesday and Thursday nights miserable.  We also need something that all four of us like to eat.  

Because last night was hard.  So hard that Brad and I put on our pajamas and went to bed at 9:40.  Both of us.  No words - we were speechless.  

And people say it doesn't get any easier as they get older.

Please let them be lying.