Tag: kids

food, Little Mister, Restaurants

Why Don’t Kids Love Restaurants As Much as Parents Do?

littleshoeprincess

Growing up, there was really only one restaurant in town: The Rustic Oak. Sure, we had fast food places – McDonald’s, Arby’s, Arthur Treacher’s Fish & Chips – but The Oak was the only spot for a **good** meal.

The two things I remember most about The Oak was the massive fireplace that was always roaring (and the stacked wood outside the front door to keep it going) and their soup and salad bar. The salad bar wasn’t anything fancy – tan tubs of iceberg lettuce, grape tomatoes, olives, bacon bits that could crack your teeth, and croutons nestled in ice under a brightly lit sneeze guard – but as a kid, unlimited anything was exciting. If you saw me and my parents at the Rustic Oak in the 80s, we were probably celebrating something.

Photo from the New Haven Register

I don’t remember eating out much growing up, unless we were on vacation. And even then, when we would go to the Jersey Shore every year, we’d stay in an efficiency hotel room, equipped with a small kitchenette, where my mother would cook dinner for us after the beach a few nights during our week-long stay. The hotel hallway would smell like fried chicken cutlets all night.

This is the kitchen where my parents insisted on cooking dinner a few nights a week while we were on vacation. Photo from The Pan American Hotel.

Most of my restaurant meals were Happy Meals picked up from the drive thru after church on Saturday nights. My treat with my babysitter while my parents went out for the night. And when we did go out! Man, did those nights feel luxurious. It’s probably what led to my obsession with restaurants and food and eating out today.

I LOVE EATING AT RESTAURANTS.

Like, really love it. I would eat out every single night if I could. And it’s not because I don’t like to cook – because I do – but I just like having someone cook for me even more. I love reading menus and eating. I love to eat. My Insta feed is filled with deliciously plated foods and fancy cocktails, with the occasional sweater-wearing dachshund mixed in.

In what could only be described as a cruel twist of fate, I am raising a child who does NOT like to eat out. HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE??

To be clear: Little Mister likes restaurant food, but he wants to eat it at home (the place where – after you eat your meal – no one cleans up after you and does the dishes and offers you dessert).

Every weekend when Mr. KK and I are ready to leave the house and relax with an adult beverage and a meal cooked by someone who is not Yours Truly, the negotiating begins.

“Where are we going?”

“What kind of food is it?”

“What else is there to do there?”

“Is anyone else coming with us?”

“Can I watch a movie while I’m there?”

After a long week, I don’t want to see the inside of my kitchen – for cooking or for eating. Instead, let’s enjoy each other’s company, take our time easing into the weekend, enjoy some delicious food, and revel in the fact that we don’t need to clean up!

(Also, if parents say we’re going out to eat, WE’RE GOING OUT TO EAT!)

Kids will be kids, Little Mister

Hey, Kids: Newsflash, Life Isn’t Fair

littleshoeprincess

Little Mister’s phrase du jour is: “That’s not fair.”

If I were to recite all of the reasons I am not being fair, or that he is being treated unfairly (in our home, by his loving parents), it would take this post into January. However, I feel I should highlight a few of the reasons for the unfair treatment so I’m properly giving you the full picture.

I am not being fair when I:

  • Ask him to brush his teeth
  • Give him 15 extra minutes on his tablet instead of 30
  • Tell him he has to go to school
  • Make him take a shower
  • Say no to dessert at night
  • Don’t let him get something from every store we go into
  • Ask him to fold his laundry
  • Give him two Oreos as a snack (and not four)
  • Only allow 1 show before bed

As you can see, it’s pretty rough over here in our house. I honestly don’t know how he’s lasted this long living with us, we are so completely, horribly unfair.

Sometimes I play a fun game where I compare Little Mister’s life to what life was like when I was growing up. How I had watch whatever show was on TV at the time (no Netflix or Disney+!), how my after school activities were not a screen they were in the yard and how we didn’t have enough money to buy Oreos (that’s not necessarily true, but I don’t remember having them as daily snacks).

What I would like to point out, is that kids don’t realize how fair and wonderful they have it. And I don’t mean that they have things that we didn’t have growing up, I mean the natural things that come along with being a kid, and not appreciating how good you actually have it until you’re old and tired.

Here’s my curated list of things that are wasted on the young:

Naps. I’m not a natural napper. I have to be dead tired to actually lie down to sleep in the middle of the day and not feel guilty that I should be doing something else. Kids, however, can nap whenever they want to. In fact, after they grow out of taking naps, parents are still urging them to take a nap. On days I know that Little Mister is exhausted from a late night and early morning, I will suggest that he lie down and put the TV on and fall asleep. This request is vehemently rejected immediately. If I had no responsibilities, and someone told me to lie on the couch and go to sleep, I would be horizontal before they finished their sentence.

Early bedtime. There are some nights that the three of us all go to bed at the same time. Sometimes that is at 11pm on a Saturday, and other times, it’s at 8:30pm on a Tuesday (no shame). Why is it that kids never want to go to sleep? I WISH someone would say to me, “It’s 8pm, why don’t you get your pajamas on and get in bed and read for a bit until you go to sleep.” That right there is a DREAM scenario. We spend a quarter of our lives fighting bedtime and half of our lives wishing we could go to bed (the remaining quarter is when we are old and while we can go to bed any time we like, we apparently no longer sleep).

Having all of your meals cooked for you. I love to cook; when I can spend a weekend day creating a delicious meal or making a pot of soup the week, I’m a happy girl. But talk to me on a random Tuesday and I’m likely grumpy about making dinner. It’s not only the cooking, it’s coming up with the meals each night. If you told me that someone was going to come to my house and cook me all of the foods I liked every single night, it would be amazing. (AND, I wouldn’t complain about it when it was put in front of me)

Metabolism. Remember existing purely on Doritos, donuts and ice cream and staying stick thin? Yeah, me neither.

Getting to see your friends every single day. I’m lucky if I get to see just ONE of my friends for 5 minutes during the week. These kids go off on their merry way to school, where they get to hang out with all of their closest buds all day long, having lunch together, run around at recess together and even sometimes ride the bus home together. And yet, they complain about going to school. I have some very dear friends I haven’t seen in a year. What I wouldn’t give to be able to see them every day!

Having nothing to do. I think the last time I didn’t have anything to do, I was 23. That feeling where there is nothing waiting for you, hanging over your head or that you’re responsible for. That is what being a kid feels like 24/7. Even if there’s a time I start to feel like I don’t have anything to do, I remember the laundry. Or the playroom that needs organizing. Or the garden that needs weeding. Kids, however, live every day with “nothing to do” and are often claiming “I’m bored!” for hours on end.

So for all the kids out there that feel like life is so unfair, just WAIT. Can you believe that they make us go to work every single day, all day long? Even when we don’t want to? The NERVE.

Kids will be kids, school

A PSA to Schools

littleshoeprincess

Dear Schools,

Let me begin by telling you how amazed I am that you take in hundreds of children each and every day, and that you continually show up for work. For 180 days. Kudos, truly. I have no idea how you do it. You are better humans than I am.

Now that we are two full months into the school year, I wanted to share some parental thoughts that you may not be aware of, that are plaguing families in towns across America.

We don’t have any cash. There is nothing more stressful than being reminded by your child that today is spirit day for a donation/field trip money is due/class t-shirt order day seven minutes before the bus comes. These requests are usually for cash and we don’t have any. After pillaging through our child’s drawers for tooth fairy money, we are tapped out. May I propose a class or school Venmo account that parents can use to pay for everything that pops up throughout the year? Speaking for this Mama, if I could donate money to a charity so my child can wear a hat to school, the donation will be much bigger if submitted electronically than if I have to find actual paper money in my house.

Kids don’t tell us shit. This is the truth. Or if they do tell us, it’s too late. A perfect example of this is when Little Mister came home with a workbook that hadn’t been started yet.

Me: “Do you have to do anything with this?”
Him: **shoulder shrug**
Me: “Why is this coming home for the first time today? Do you have to complete any of it?”
Him: “I don’t know!”

A quick email to the teacher revealed that the kids were told to do a few pages in the workbook on Monday (today was Wednesday). My particular child looked at me like I asked him to recite the periodic table of elements when I asked him if he remembered being asked to work on this.

Unless it’s assigned to them in writing, sent home via email from teachers to parents, or stapled to their foreheads, there’s a 97% chance that what teachers are telling students in school is not making it to their parents’ ears at home. What IS making it to our ears, is who went to the Principal’s office, if the cafeteria ran out of Oreo ice cream bars and who pushed who during recess.

When a child does remember something, it’s usually at the most inopportune time:

At the bus stop: “We could bring a stuffed animal in today! Can we go get one?”
Having breakfast: “Can you chaperone the field trip today?”
Before bed: “Today parents could have come in to read to our class.”

Projects. You are looking at someone who LOVES herself a good art and craft project. When I have the opportunity to break out the glue gun, I am one happy girl. And I can appreciate the learning that goes into working on a project, creating something with your hands and mind, and showing it off. I am not looking for fewer projects! My question is this: is there any chance the projects could be smaller? Actually physically smaller. While we are putting our Amazon boxes to great use, we are running out of room to display (read: store) all of our beloved works of art. Because guess who doesn’t like to throw out projects? The kid who made them.

We parents can not thank you enough for everything you’re doing for our children.

If you need me, I’ll be gathering small bills from the bank to get us through the end of the year.

Kids will be kids, Life, Little Mister, NaBloPoMo

How Kids Drive Their Parents Crazy

littleshoeprincess

This is a normal conversation in our house:

ME: “Little Mister, what would you like for breakfast? Waffle? Banana? Coffee cake?”

LITTLE MISTER: “I don’t want breakfast.”

(15 minutes later, as we’re getting ready to leave for school…)

LITTLE MISTER: (in tears) “Why didn’t you give me breakfast?”

ME: “You said you didn’t want breakfast!”

LITTLE MISTER: (wailing) “But I’m hungry! I can’t believe you’re not going to give me breakfast. You’re making me so sad right now!”

True story.

This is not an isolated incident. There was the time Little Mister asked for noodles for dinner, and when we gave him noodles, he freaked out because he got what he wanted for dinner.

Or the time I gave him his red sweatshirt and he said he wanted to wear his camo sweatshirt, and he cried the entire way to school because I wouldn’t let him wear his red sweatshirt.

No joke, kids can make you feel like you’re losing your ever-loving mind sometimes!

But the fun doesn’t stop there!

Apparently, you can forget about using reverse psychology, because that doesn’t work. Case in point:

One night, when Little Mister’s ears were apparently not working, we told him that he lost his screen time. “Well, guess what?” he said. “I didn’t want to watch anything anyway. I wanted to read.”

How, exactly, am I supposed to respond to that?

Kids will be kids, Little Mister, NaBloPoMo, Uncategorized

Overheard in the KK Household: 2020 Version

littleshoeprincess

As a five year old, our child was rather entertaining. Add 2 dogs, a pandemic and general stir craziness, and who knows what’s going to come out of everyone’s mouths.

If someone were a fly on the wall in our house, boy would he get an earful! At any given time, you would hear any of the following:

Little Mister: “Wow, Dad! You were able to pick up Mom without hurting your back!” After Mr. KK hugged me, then squeezed and lifted me off the ground. Thanks, kid.

“No, we don’t kiss with our teeth.” Me, to Bruno, after he lick-bit my nose.

“Wait, is that poop? It looks like poop. Why is there poop? Can you pick it up and smell it?” Me, to Mr. KK, after seeing something brown and suspicious on the floor.

“I’m not very happy with you right now.” Little Mister, to me, about 25 times a day.

“Do you smell that? Was that you?” Me, to any one of the humans or dogs living in my house.

“Ugh, another hug? All you want is hugs.” Little Mister, eye rolling until it hurts, to both of us, constantly.

“Wow, Mom, this is a really good dinner.” Little Mister to me, complimenting my exquisite grilled cheese cooking skills. (Something I do “right”!)

Me: “The rules of the game say that the youngest player goes first, and then next youngest to oldest.” Little Mister: “So it’s me, then Mommy, then Daddy.” Incorrect, but God love ya and I’ll milk it as long as I can.

And bonus point if you’re playing at home for every time you hear an “UGH!” and “Moooooom!” and “That’s not fair!”

NaBloPoMo, Pandemic, school, work

We’ve Entered the Over Sharing Portion of Remote School

littleshoeprincess

You owe it to yourself, just once in your lifetime, to sit in on a remote classroom with 20 kindergarteners (all of whom cannot read yet and haven’t learned how to navigate Google classroom).

For the first week of school, about 15 kids sat on the Meet NOT on mute. So we heard 15 households’ conversations. Everything from parents’ arguing in the background to Grandmas telling kids the answers.

Every parent should have gotten this t-shirt with their remote learning kits.

Once everyone got the hang of the computer, the kids got really comfortable really fast with their teacher, sharing all sorts of things. Now, I know this sort of uncensored sharing goes on in schools all the time, however, parents are never privy to what’s said behind the classroom door. Now, we have a front row seat.

And kids share everything, especially when they don’t have a grown up next to them who can jump on that mute button to save face if need be.

Overheard in the kindergarten classroom:

“My parents are always yelling at me. So I scream back.”

“The only thing I like to do is watch Youtube.”

“I’m bored. When is school over?’

“Why is your hair like that? What did you do?” (to the teacher!)

“Can you pause the video? I have to pee!”

“I don’t like this part, can we do something else?”

“HEY! PAY ATTENTION!” (a parent, to their child)

We are on live learning for almost 5 hours each day (with breaks). Kids do not have an attention span for that long. And when their minds start to wander, all of the verbal gold comes out.

Though, I feel as adults we can learn a thing to two from these kids. I have been on more than one video call just this week alone where I wish I could have unmuted myself and asked, “I’m bored. When is this over?”

food, Kids will be kids, NaBloPoMo, parenting

We Are Raising a Carb-a-holic

littleshoeprincess

When our Little Mister was younger, he would eat so many different foods. Then, slowly, he started to have an opinion (the nerve!) and decide what he did and didn’t like. Gone were the days he would happily mash salmon and potatoes in his mouth, or ask to try our shrimp or eat puréed beef stew. Now, foods he ate just two days earlier were no longer in his repertoire.

One day, he quit chicken nuggets cold turkey. What 5 year old does that? Chicken nuggets is a food group for kids under 10.

But what does the Little Mister love? CARBS. If my child could eat only white food for the rest of his life, he’d be happy. (I mean, I get it – I wish I could exist on cheese and bread, too. But there are things called balanced diets and BMI that we have to worry about).

At our recent 6 year old check up, the doctor asked Little Mister if he was eating fruits and vegetables. “Yes,” he nodded solemnly. Liar! Besides broccoli, we are anti-vegetable (tomatoes are a fruit! and corn is not a vegetable!).

Dinnertime is becoming harder and harder. Though I think I’m more bothered with Little Mister eating the same thing every night than he is. Honestly, he’d the same thing for breakfast, lunch and dinner if I let him. (Why am I not letting him? Why am I driving myself crazy???)

Part of the reason it bugs me that my child won’t eat (or try) anything is that I actually cook dinners each night. Mr. KK and I eat a pretty good meal each night, the likes of which are wasted on our child. So each night, I cook 2 meals; or, rather, I cook one meal and one additional carbohydrate.

What is on the 6 Year Old Menu

Here is what Little Mister has deemed worthy of eating:

• Grilled cheese
• Pizza (he used to ask for spinach on his pizza, or bacon and olive, now it’s just plain cheese)
• Pasta (plain, no butter or cheese. sometimes he’ll concede to sauce if he’s feeling daring)
• Pancakes (shaped like snowmen or dogs; a good go-to when we’ve gone through the usual dinner rotation)
• Broccoli (I’m proud to type this, he has not yet tired of broccoli, even though it’s the only vegetable he’ll eat so I give it to him every. single. night.)
• Strawberries
• Apples
• Any type of chip (potato, Dorito, Cheeto, you name it, my kid will house it)
• Dessert (he is an equal opportunity dessert eater)

Little Mister is a bonafide snacker. Five minutes after he finishes a meal, he wants a snack. And after his snack, he needs another snack. His snacks have snacks! We are trying to teach him how to balance his snacks. He knows enough by this time, to ask specifically, “Do I have have to have a snack that’s a fruit now?” Yes, yes you do! Though he tries to be sneaky with, “Fruits snacks are fruit. It’s in the name.” Nice try, kiddo.

I don’t imagine the days of me making 2 meals each night will end soon, because I’m pretty sure I’m not going to start eating pancakes and dry pasta for dinner. And even Little Mister’s doctor said, “You need to determine what’s too much? It is worth stressing over now, knowing he’s likely not going to go to college only eating 10 things?” And no, it’s not. He’s healthy and growing (like a week!) so he’d getting nutrition. And honestly, there are other places in my life that I can stress over rather than having to make a grilled cheese sandwich 3 times a week.

Kids will be kids, Life, Mornings, NaBloPoMo, parenting

What I Do “Right”, According to My 6 Year Old

littleshoeprincess

Today was my morning to bring the Little Mister to school at Grandma’s House of Remote Learning. We backed out of the garage and waved at Mr. KK in the window. After a few waves I put the car in drive, turned the wheel, and off we went down our long driveway.

“MO-O-O-OM!” Little Mister whined (loudly) from the backseat.

“What is it?” I asked. We literally just left the house, what could be wrong already?

“I didn’t get to say goodbye to Lance,” Little Mister huffed at me. Lance is our neighbor’s dog, a gigantic white horse that barks incessantly at all hours of the day and night. There is no love lost for Lance.

“We didn’t get to say goodbye and it’s ALL YOUR FAULT!” Little Mister yelled, crossing his arms across his chest and scowling out his window.

Ah, yes. Of course it was my fault. You see – we have reached the stage in childhood where everything is my fault. My child literally blames me for every bad and horrific thing that happens. Here are some examples of what has recently been my fault:

  1. Little Mister stubs his toe on the kitchen chair, while I’m 15 feet away at the stove.
  2. The wifi blips and the movie we’re watching cuts out. Totally my fault.
  3. Little Mister is building a tower of animals that is not structurally sound to begin with and the entire thing topples over. MY FAULT.
  4. Little Mister tells me he doesn’t want a cookie, so I put the cookies away. Little Mister then has a tantrum because I put the cookies away without giving him one. Mom’s fault!
  5. Little Mister runs and jumps on a bean bag pile, misses, and bangs his knee on the hardwood floor. Even though I’m in a completely different room, you guessed it: my fault!

So today, when I drove away from our house on our way to school without letting Max say goodbye to the dog who was not even outside, and was told it was my fault, I couldn’t let it go.

“So you not saying goodbye to Lance is my fault?” I ask. Not because I need clarity, but because the accusation is so ridiculous.

“Yep,” he says. “Just like everything else.”

Ouch.

“Let me ask you,” I say, as if I’m talking to a thirty year old, and not my 6 year old who apparently thinks I’m responsible for all of the horrible things in his life. “Is there anything you think I do right?”

Little Mister thinks about this for a minute.

“You cook right,” he says.

Cooking! Ok, I’ll take it.

“Anything else?” I ask.

“Hugging. You hug perfectly right.”

Awww. Now we’re talking.

“What else does Mommy do right?”

“You play with me right,” he says. “And you watch movies the right way.” I’m not quite sure what the right way is to watch movies. Maybe, staying awake? Lying on the couch? Singing all the songs?

“Wow, thank you!” I tell Little Mister. “It makes me feel good to hear all those things that I do right and that not everything is my fault.”

Little Mister sighs, obviously growing tired of our conversation. “You don’t do everything wrong. But it is your fault I didn’t say goodbye to Lance.”

Who was not even outside! I want to scream. But I keep my mouth shut, another thing I do right. Sometimes.

Kids will be kids

Funny things 5 year olds say.

littleshoeprincess

Part of being a parent is watching in awe as your little person learns and grows, and discovers the world around them. Also part of being a parent is cursing the day your child learns to spell and you can no longer talk in C-O-D-E. (Lucky for us, we can still spell out entire conversations to each other.)

IMG_7808
Us being silly with Snapchat (aka: “the button with the ghost on it”

These little sponges pick up on everything around them, even when you think they are engrossed in an episode of Paw Patrol. And out of nowhere they will say the funniest things to you, based on conversations you never knew they were listening to.

In our house, that looks something like this:

Little Mister: “Mom! Come and see this fort me and Daddy built out of blankets!”
Me: “I’ll be right there!”
Little Mister: “It’s so cool! It has an adult area where you can get lots of different beers! You’ll love it!”

And like this:

Mr. kk (to me): “Do you want to share a frosty?”
Little Mister: “Mom, I think Dad is asking you if you want half his beer.”

And this (has nothing to do with beer, thankfully. I don’t want you to get the wrong impression of us):

Little Mister: “Let’s walk down the hallway in order from oldest to youngest. Dad, you go first, then Mom, then me.”
Me: “You heard him, Dad, oldest in the front!”
((Let it be known for the record that Mr. kk is two years my junior))

On talking about The Lion King:

Me: “Was there a bad guy in that movie?”
Little Mister: “Yes! His name was Scarf!”
Me: “You mean Scar?”
Little Mister: “Yes, Scarf.”

On asking him to do anything:

Little Mister: “RELAX, Dad. Jeesh.”

or

Little Mister: “Just calm down, everyone!”

In between telling us yet another food that is now ‘yucky’ and fighting bedtime like it’s his job, the Little Mister is a funny, smart and sweet boy, who keeps us on our toes and keeps us laughing.

Kids will be kids

Aren’t 5 year olds fun sometimes?

littleshoeprincess

Our Little Mister is embracing his independence now that he is “one whole hand” old.

I’ve heard the term “three-nager” but what do we call the 5 year old who knows everything?

We love this kid like crazy, but we’d be lying if we said some of his antics didn’t drive us crazy.

Here are the super fun things going on in our house right now:

Clothing is a thing. He has an opinion about everything that goes on his body. Pants aren’t “cozy” enough. Sweatshirts aren’t an “all day shirt”. His new sneakers are “too hard”.

He. Doesn’t. Go. To. Sleep. Every night there is a song and dance at bedtime. Sometimes it’s too dark. Then it’s too hot. Then he wants Rocco. Then Rocco is moving too much. Then he’s thirsty. Then he wants to ask a question. Then he needs to be tucked in. Then he needs to tell us something. Then…it’s 9:30pm and he’s still not sleeping.

Bionic hearing. This kid hears everything. Let’s just say, we can no longer have adult conversations in the house without someone piping up and asking questions about what we mean, or why so-and-so is doing this or that. So now Mr. KK and I are resigned to talk to each during the times that we’re awake but the Little Mister isn’t. So, for about 5 minutes a day.

We are constantly getting interrupted. When Mr. KK and I do try and have a conversation – what we’re having for dinner, what we’re doing that weekend, nothing deep or meaningful, we save that for our 5 minutes of kid-free time – we are immediately interrupted by an incessant little voice saying, “Mommy. Mommy. Mom. Mom. Mommy. MOOOOOMMMMMYYYYY.” And it doesn’t stop until we answer.

It’s very LOUD in our house. Are kids just programmed to only speak at one decibel: ear-splitting? We could be standing next to the Little Mister and he still yells. Mr. KK downloaded this app that measures how loud is too loud to talk with a cute little emoji that makes a sad face when you talk too loudly that the Little Mister immediately assumed was a game and tried to make the little dial go off the charts. Why do kids talk so damn loudly??

He threatens us. But not well. “If you don’t let me have a snack, you can’t play Paw Patrol with me.” Um….ok?

Everything is NO. It doesn’t matter the question, or what we say to him, his answer is no every single time, and often before we finish. “Let’s wash our hands for dinner.” NO. “Can you put your shoes on?” NO. Sometimes I try and trick him…ask him a bunch of questions in a row, then throw in a “Do you want a snack?” and he’ll say NO and then catch himself. Little bugger.

Five is a hard age. He wants to be a big boy, but he still has little boy tendencies. Which I’m totally okay with, because I want him to be little forever. Which I know is ridiculous, but the thought of a teenager who doesn’t want anything to do with me scares the crap out of me. We had one night last week where the Little Mister was crying for Daddy and NOT Mommy, and my entire night deflated. But he always wants me! Why doesn’t he want me?! I’m crazy, I know.

I just want him to grow up happy and healthy and to be a good human.

Who doesn’t talk so loudly.