Dinner time: a liveblogging adventure

I’m a big believer in dinner prep TV time. Judge alllllll you want, with your children who want to help you cook or set the table or make tiny Brawny swans for a centerpiece. My children? They have good intentions. To drive me crazy one dinner at a time.

Last night we had exhausted our TV watching time. I do have my limits, believe it or not, and it just didn’t feel right to plop them down so I could boil some noodles.

I can do this!  I thought.

And then I quickly proved myself wrong. So I did what any sane, responsible mother would do.

I liveblogged it.

 

Aw, honey, I understand that you want cheesy noodles. We’re having spaghetti. They’re practically the same thing… I can see how this is the end of the world.

No, I can’t help you find your Rainbow Dash.

Hear Claire calling me so head to her room to see wha–OMG WHAT HAPPEND IN HERE? Close the door. You never saw a thing.

Wait, big Rainbow Dash or little Rainbow Dash? Oh. Yeah, I have no idea. Look in the pony bin. The toy box. The abyss between your bed and the wall. No, I can’t help you right now. No, don’t pout. Okay, fine. Pout.

Oh look. You found the Sharpies.

Get off the table. Yes I know the chandelier needs cleaning, but that’s not your job. Yes, I know, it’s mine. Thank you for clarifying that. Now get down.

Y’all. It’s a stuffed frog. There are bigger problems in life.

Wow, can we cut the yelling just a bit?

Why are you sliding along the tile on your tummy? And where are your clothes?

Oh look. You found the stamps. Well, yeah, they kind of are stickers. Your dress just went up in value $3.22.

Zoe, I have to put you down. I can’t liveblog, I mean make dinner with your arms around my neck. Oh look! Mommy’s phone!

Stop fighting.

Stop crying.

Stop yelling.

Put the knives down.

Where IS your father?

OMG why won’t you play with the phone?

Enter the father:  DEAD. SILENCE. As if they had not all been screaming and crying and wailing just 2.6 seconds earlier.

 

In summary, the spaghetti got made. The spaghetti got eaten. The children went to bed. The mother drank a beer.

The end.

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24 Comments

  1. I am right there with you in TV time being during dinner time prep. Like you, I sometimes question the need for it just to boil noodles since many of our meals don’t require much prep time but that witching hour just needs a little TV. And yeah, I have aspirations of my children being my sous chefs but the reality is they would just drive me insane and I would end up being Hell’s Kitchen.

    I think the next live blogging episode should be the actual meal time. If your house is anything like my house, there is tons of comedic material right there.

    1. That’s a VERY good idea. I think I’d have to set up a recording device during the meal and transcribe it later!

  2. This is so…us. Even with the TV on. Until Cortney comes home from work, it’s like a battle zone to make dinner. They can both be perfectly quiet, but when I start making dinner….BOOM!

    1. Seriously! And it’s not even the power of fear. It’s just … let’s make mom look like a fool for begin mad.

    1. Having them help me is so stressful! Maybe when they get older. They ALL want to stand on the stools right where I need to b e, and they ALL want to do the same thing. I can hardly ever do anything with just one child.

  3. We have only one and she’s not too old, so for now we can tag team dinner. Whoever is cooking gets to keep the kid occupied. You should just get yourself a fence and a border collie (or jack russell), throw in them in the backyard, and they can’t come in until dinner is ready and one of them has passed out from exhaustion.

  4. Aw yes, the witching hour. It’s a killer. This sounds pretty much like our house. Except my kids can’t get to the stamps, I’ve locked them away… 😉

  5. I’m getting the referee-the-figt-over-the-TV-from -the-kitchen thing these days.

    Beer after dinner sounds good. Beer *right now* sounds good, and it’s nowhere near dinner time yet.

    (School starts in 12 days.)

  6. I only have the one here but it can easily take 3 times as long to fix a meal with all of the requests and “emergencies” that need my attention right then. This is why I am thankful for Grandpa who usually keeps her occupied and takes her outside while I am fixing dinner. Many times I wish I had a beer after dinner. 🙂

  7. Hahaha! Too funny.
    My husband and I have a deal. If he wants to eat a home cooked meal, then he has to entertain the kids while I cook. Otherwise, it’s pizza night.

    1. I wish. He usually walks in the door right at dinner time. What a deal, right? Walk in and sit down to a nice meal.

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