We Do Not Care...

But we have to.

This woman has taken over my feed, and most likely, yours too.

justbeingmelani

A post shared by @justbeingmelani

Her shoot to stardom is well deserved as I find her wit and candor to be some of the funniest out there. Her premise of “We Do Not Care” hits home as I regularly dream of yelling “I do not care what’s for dinner (or breakfast…or lunch)!”

Currently, all aspects of feeding my family seems to be more laborious than ever and I sooo don’t want to care.

I’m tired of asking Elliott if he’s thought to eat ANYTHING before two hours of basketball practice and after a round of golf. I’m tired of thinking about Grant and his diet of bread, cheese and different bread. A grilled cheese, quesadilla or mac-n-cheese rounds out his entrees as he claims to dislike meat (except for Starbird, Chick-fil-A, mandarin chicken at camp, steak at someone else’s house and any cheeseburger out there.)

I’m tired of thinking of what one kid can eat in the window of 5 - 5:30 knowing the other child won’t be eating until 8:30 - forget about what or when my husband or I will be eating. I’m tired of thinking about Elliott’s choice of school lunch (what is he really eating?) and Grant’s repeated lunch of potstickers (ahem, meat) or buttered pasta.

I’m tired of wasting food in the fridge because I forgot Scott had softball and Elliott had to umpire. I love that Elliott loves raspberries but hate that posts like “Shoutout to the parents having bland breakfasts to afford their kid's raspberries” are so relevant. I’m tired of hitting Trader Joe’s, Mollie Stone’s, Costco, Target, and Whole Foods…to name a few. I’m tired of snack containers vanishing regularly and glaring at the never picked healthy-ish snacks in the drawer. I’m tired of the mound of half-eaten chip bags procreating in our already small pantry. I am completely baffled by how their childhoods incorporate so much less cereal than mine.

I want to not care and let everyone fend for themselves.

BUT, I love (most of) our moments over breakfast with my boys at their self-assigned seats, asking me more intense questions as they age, sometimes in Spanish. I believe strongly in the value of the four of us sitting down for dinner together and the moments post the boys being excused when Scott and I connect over varying degrees of empty plates.

I’m frugal to the point that I won’t use Instacart or DoorDash so no need to try to sway me there. Instead, I’ll just complain here and picture you nodding as we continue to try to find the joy and honor in feeding our precious family.

I’ve written about the power of family dinner before. Guess one could say it’s something I believe strongly in AND deserve the right to complain about.