Kindergarten Diaries: The Lunch Police

At the beginning of the school year, I was incredibly excited to pick out Elijah's new lunch box. I had warm, fuzzy memories of all of the lunches my mother so lovingly made me each morning and I was bound and determined to do the same for my little people. Fast forward to 6 months into the school year, I had begun to grow rather weary of packing a lunch for my picky eater everyday. The lunches I had set out to make so lovingly had begun to be the bain of my existence. I stared into the grim reality of the next 18 years I would be packing lunches for my kids, and a kind of gloomy cloud started to settle over my head.

 Let it be noted, Elijah doesn't eat much and most days, he only eats half of the lunch that I give him and he is not a fan of fruit. Getting him to eat it is rather a chore and when I'm at home, I tend to not want to pick a fight.But because the school is very verbal about packing healthy lunch choices, I tried to comply (albeit begrudgingly). At the beginning of the school year, they sent a list home of acceptable lunch choices, requesting that we not send peanut butter sandwhiches (a staple in Elijah's diet) due to allergies some kids had. This was a little excessive in my opinion, but still, I tried to be the "good mom" and not be on the bad mom list. The bad mom list is a very very shameful list to be on. I know this because, last week I managed to get on the bad mom list.

I had chosen to forgo the usual sandwhich I make Elijah and went with yogurt instead. He likes yogurt, I felt it was a somewhat healthy choice, and, to be blunt, he was stopped up and yogurt always helps that. I had no idea that a few short hours later I would have to defend to the death my decisions.
                                                                                     

It appears that my adorable, innocent, doe-eyed little 5-year-old saw that there were other kinds of snacks and hot lunches that were available that sometimes looked more appealing than the orange mom packed. And so, he learned how to manipulate the lunch ladies (NO not MY son!). He decided during snack recess to eat his yogurt and then when lunch came, he showed them that his lunchbox only had one tiny granola bar a drink box and an orange. What's an adorable blond-haired boy supposed to do with such a meager lunch? So they took pity on him, and gave him a hot lunch. When I walked into class, I got the tongue lashing of my life for not giving him enough to eat. When I explained that I had sent him with yogurt instead of his sandwhich, I was met with a disconcerted look. Finally, in exasperation I said, "Listen he's having trouble POOPING. That's why I gave him yogurt for lunch. It's not my fault that he ate it during recess, I can't control when he eats things."

So now not only was I the bad mom who didn't give her son enough food, I was also the crazy lady that just yelled the word POOP. Great. What I couldn't believe was that I was basically being put on trial and condemned all for a lunch. So I hung my head in shame, and dragged my (appearantly mal-nourished) child away. He smiled all the while, knowing he had gotten away with it.

The next day, I did what any mom on the bad list does, I packed him one TWO fruits and a sandwhich. Take that 5-year-old master manipulator and lunch police!