I am a big smelly hypocrite.

To the four people who read yesterday’s post and didn’t comment, here’s the follow-up. Sometimes you can do everything right to have a nice day and a nice house and a nice calm demeanor, then break into a rage because your picky little children won’t even try the taco soup you made for dinner. With Doritos crushed into it, I might add. Do you have any idea how often my kids have seen Doritos in this house? Try never.

But would they eat it? My six year old had the gall to make rude faces for five minutes, whining about how he hates soup. He wouldn’t even try it. When the June Bug (who initially loved it) pushed hers away and started copying her brothers, something inside me snapped.

I grabbed those boys, dragged them to their room (at 5:30) and sent them to bed. And since no one is reading this, I’ll even confess to yelling very scary and loud like about hungry children in Africa, and how I kind of want to ship my kids there so they’ll learn to eat beans. It was loud enough that all of our surrounding neighbors, including the bishop, probably heard me.

Don’t worry, I apologized. I even gave them a chance to come out and try again. Rex decided he’d rather stay in bed (food anxiety) and Harrison came out once to see if he could barter his way down to four bites instead of six. When I flared my nostrils he stomped back to his room and locked me out. Because we all know I was just dying to go hang out in there with him and his new Super Mario wallpaper. (He’s been making me print off coloring pages all day and has managed to plaster them all around his bed.)

I’ve decided Hell will consist of slaving away all day long in a house that never gets clean, making food that nobody eats.


  1. Holy crap, not eating my cooking?!?! That’s sure to get me angrier than anything else on earth, there’s no end to my screaming and gnashing of teeth. When my wee one refused to eat solids even though the doc said I was a bad mom for not getting her to eat them (she didn’t eat a meal until she was 15 months!!) I would try and cook and then when she sadly would wail in baby that she just couldn’t do it, there may or may not have been a one-sided food fight.

    Totally. Justifiable.

  2. Sometimes people in my family would rant things about starving people in China…then my brother married a Chinese women and apparently they’ve always had plenty to eat which totally negates that argument. Good call on sticking with Africa. And good work sticking to your guns:)

  3. I’ll come over to dinner! I love taco soup!

  4. I hate it too. A lot. However my new approach has been to set the timer for a reasonable amount of time and tell them I’m clearing the table when the bell rings. Usually they ARE hungry enough to try food and even keep some of it down, but I just don’t have the patience for the 30-minute whining, negotiating wind up. When the table gets cleared, their chance for food is gone for the night. There’s still wailing, but at least I can put it in a room instead of at the table.

  5. Shall I depress you by telling you that I have a 12-year-old with whom I STILL have food battles with?

  6. Oh, Annie! I love you! You know, you could make this threat: “You may not like your soup for dinner, but I can guarantee you’re going to hate it even more when I give it to you for breakfast!” LOL. These kids know just how to bring out the best and worst in us. I will say a little prayer that dinner tonight will go better for you. 🙂

  7. girlsmama says:

    Ahhhh, these are the days of our lives.

  8. I SOOOOOO know where you are coming from. And that is with the yelling, knowing better to do things that keep the Spirit, yelling some more, PICKY eaters, having fights that last way too long.
    I will confess though. When I finally just say it is not worth all of the fighting and just back down, our house is much calmer. And I have a four year who will not eat bread (or much of anything else). Have you ever met a kid that did not want to take a handful of sacrament bread??? She has NEVER! eaten even one little piece. Mealtimes at our house are always on the verge of explosion, so I always have to count to ten, sing a primary song, etc. etc. etc.

  9. Been there….a lot! Being a mommy is hard. My 5 1/2 year old daughter told me the other day that I have ruined her life. No “thank you” for giving her life or doing everything I do to benefit her and her brother. It hurt to the bone (and to the heart).

  10. Oh food battles are so much fun aren’t they?!
    I try to remember what it was like when i was little, how annoying it was to be told “food” when asking what we were eating for dinner. Try to understand that its ok for her to not clear her plate but there is such a fine line because if you dont make her eat enough she will be hungry in 20 minutes. This kid, i swear all she does is talk during meals so she always ends up eating alone. She thinks she needs to gets up twenty times after we leave the table because whatever we are doing is way more exciting. Its frustrating beyond belief. There is nothing worse than sending your kid to bed hungry, I can’t sleep if my stomach is growling but If you don’t eat your dinner then what can you do? I know what she likes and doesn’t like, I’m not that mean but boy does the food battle wear a person out!.

  11. That is so funny —I LOVE TACO SOUP. Kids these days are way to picky. When I was little –I WAS NEVER ALLOWED to have an “opinion” about the food and had to eat it no matter what?? (sounds like a story of walking through 10 feet of snow to school and all that)
    send them to Africa for first hand experience ———ok, just kidding there

  12. I hate food battles. We’ve literally battled from DAY FRICKIN’ ONE. Getting them to eat 5 cc’s (that’s right, only 5 cc’s!) of breast milk to last night trying to get them to take 4 frickin’ bites of pot roast! You have aptly named my very version of hell.

  13. I hear you!

  14. I think hell is exactly like that. I just had to teach that lesson in primary. Except for me hell would include me changing poopy diapers right after I have just changed a poopy diaper and realizing that I’m out of wipes, and having a son who refuses to go to the store and a daughter who is dying to go but has a case of the runs….I’m sorry that’s not hell that was a journal entry. I’m off to find my car keys!

  15. We have a happy little rule at our house called “Eat or don’t eat, I don’t care, but you’re not getting anything else!” Because pretty much everything I prepare has something wrong with it. Or many things. Depends on which kid is whining.

  16. According to your description, I live in Hell. I always had a suspicion I was condemned, it feels good to finally have it realized. I guess that explains why the A/C never seems to work right. (Get it – it’s hot in Hell. GET IT?!! HA HA HA. Ok, cheesy joke, which explains the even cheesier explanation…)

  17. I’m sure time in Hell on earth counts against sins in the next life, so maybe you have a few “free sins” after a night like this…consider that.

  18. My problem these days is getting anyone to even show up at dinnertime 🙂 but OHHHH! you brought me back to the days when my kids were youngsters, they’d be happy if you’d just boil up some hot dogs for every meal!

  19. It sounds like every mom battles the mini food critics at her table. I know I do. It just makes it harder to lay down the law…”eat it of go hungry” when your pediatrician keeps telling you how under weight your kids are. Makes me feel guilty every time I get strict and they know I won’t let them go to bed hungry without a piece of toast or yogurt or something. Plus, it doesn’t help being woken up at 3am with a hungry 3 year old crying at you. How annoying are the food battles! My mom says I am getting justice now for being such a picky eater myself!

  20. Kel, cut yourself some slack. It’s against the Mommy law to beat yourself up over stubborn three-year-old’s, didn’t you know that?

  21. Annie, we have the same definition of Hell.
    And oh-my-gosh! I just realized my life is a living hell!!!

  22. mmmm…..taco soup! It is for this reason alone….dinner time….that I went on strike (making dinner) over 12 years ago. My boys were opposite eaters and hated EVERYTHING I made. So, I quit. I handed it over to my hubby. I don’t like to cook in the first place. So there!