We have a problem. Not a big one, but an annoying one.

Our kids have forgotten how to sit at the dinner table. Or maybe they never knew how to begin with. 

It started with our middle child. He isn't that interested in food, so he fills up fast and then is on the run to a nearby chair. My daughter may follow with a marker in hand. My eldest starts to feel the pull of the Xbox and then my husband and I are left looking at each other and yelling, "Get back here!" Or, we enjoy the silence.

Are the mini-bars still screaming for your attention? Or have you hit full-on sugar overload, self-loathing and you will not under any circumstance touch another piece of candy as long as you live, or at least until next Halloween, or maybe the office Christmas party?

I still have a dining room table laden with candy, with no hope of it going anywhere until Monday. And the rationalizations for eating it are still coming in strong!

Halloween fairy makes her annual appearance on Friday night and makes the bags disappear (to Daddy's office). In the meantime, the kids will choose their ten pieces and then forget about them. It's a great system.

A restaurant in Pennsylvania has banned children under the age of six. You may have already heard this story and wondered why is it getting so much attention?

The topic of banning kids from restaurants gets recycled every year. In fact, I even wrote on this topic once before. That post brought me to the attention of the producers of CBC Radio’s Q show (unless they are regular readers and have been planning to have me as a guest, but I doubt it) and I will debated the topic against a pro-ban writer. (Click here to listen to the discussion).

 

Mommy has a man cold. You know one of those colds that isn't horrible but just enough to make me lethargic, lose my voice and be whiny.

But when mommy is sick no one brings her tea in bed or makes chicken soup. Kids don't magically appear at home or get to their extracurriculars, so I'm limping around in my pyjama shirt and sweatpants (even yoga pants would be a step up).

If I gave you a recipe for super easy cake that would use up the bruised fruit that is starting to get a bit stinky you would use it, right? You would bake it up in a few minutes instead of buying a frozen dessert at the local supermarket to take to friend’s, wouldn’t you?

Because having to throw out old peaches and berries is too sad to bear and you would rather whip them up into something delicious and impressive, right? And since the recipe calls for stuff you have in the kitchen, is totally foolproof and you don’t even need a mixer for it, it would be a no-brainer.

I love convenience. I will do anything to make my life easier. Anything but one. I don’t use a lot of premade frozen foods. I have the time and the ability to make most of our family’s snacks. But I understand that many families are not in the same position.

I’ve already made my position clear on pre-packaged Rice Krispie Squares and and my one pot brownies.I understand that baking isn’t everyone’s thing. But do you make your kids’ sandwiches or would you rather buy them frozen?

I watched my cousin prepare food for her 7-month old a while ago. It was a long, arduous process. She peeled sweet potatoes, cut them up in small pieces, steamed them in a special babyfood machine and then mashed them. Then she filled special ice cube trays with lids and froze them. It took at least an hour and half. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her to throw a sweet pototato on the BBQ and just scoop out the flesh but I held back.

The funny thing is that she can’t cook. She is obsessively making her own baby food but she never makes dinner for herself. And the latter fact will have a much bigger impact on her kid's health in the long term then whether or not she defrosted her baby food appropriately.

I was like that with child number one (except the can’t cook part). I prepared, I froze and I obsessively read when to introduce certain foods. But then with baby number 2, Dr. Jack Newman told me: “Food is food.” And it struck a chord.  With Sam, I was less formulaic and by the time Jenna came along I got it right. I made her food, but her food even as a little baby was usually also our food. We had carrots, she had carrots. We had tofu, she had tofu too, we had chicken and she had chicken.  Maybe hers was plain and ours was sautéed with sauce, but it was still the same food. I bought one of these nifty food squishers and I could turn our dinner into her dinner (except green beans, you need a uisinart for those little strings.) And I don’t need to tell you who my best eater is do I?

While I was courting controversy on the web last week (who knew Halloween costumes was such a touchy topic?). In real life, I was being trying to be a helpful member of the mommy community.

Ever been part of a food fight? Of course you have! If you are a parent you know all about conflict at the table. When my son Aaron was three all he would eat was white food (no, not cauliflower, not even bananas) and it made me literally crazy. Here I am, a scion of a food dynasty and I was serving meal after meal of boring, bland food. I thought there must be some answers out there to deal with picky eaters, but no, there weren’t. And that is when my friend and fellow foodie Eshun Mott and I had this crazy idea that we could simultaneously write a book and solve our own problems.

Typical dinner night at my house:
Me: “Kids, dinner.”
Random kid: “What’s for dinner?”
Me:"Food" (and no, that comeback never gets tiresome)
Random Kid: "You always say that. What kind of food?"
Me: "Chicken kind"
Random Kid: "Chicken, I  hate chicken! Why do you always make chicken. I hate chicken. [Insert whining, complaining here]"
Me: "Honey-mustard chicken"
All kids: "YEY! Everyone run to the table, its honey-mustard chicken. I love you mummy!!"
See how simple it can be?