Friday, November 4, 2011
I am in a cooking rut and I lay the blame squarely on my family's shoulders. They are in an eating rut.
It doesn't seem to matter what I cook, they barely eat.
Last night I made pork chops with gravy, mashed potatoes and steamed sugar snaps, and both Doug and Noah dumped half of their plate in the sink.
Noah says, "I'm not really hungry, mom." And half an hour later he's eating cold cereal.
Doug says, "I must have had a bigger lunch than I thought. You know I'm not big on pork chops."
Hmmm. Pft. It's six o'clock and no one (but me) is hungry for my dinner.
Faith ate well after her ballet lesson (one little pork chop and sides), but Josh dumped most of his after he came home from school, and I found the evidence in the sink.
I'm almost to striking point. Why should I bother cooking if they don't bother eating? I'd rather picket than cook.
Part of the issue is the change of seasons. Fall brings soups and stews and casseroles -- at least to me -- and my family would rather be eating grilled ribs, steaks, chicken legs.
What's a mother to do? What do you do when your family doesn't eat your meal?