Flunking Lunch

I have entered a new phase of motherhood: packing lunches.

It could be going better.

After being at a complete loss about what to pack for Mary, who eschews sandwiches, I settled into a routine of an ice pack, yogurt, grapes, and whatever else I can find. My worst sin committed so far was failing to pack a cheese stick on her first day of school--so she stole one from a little boy and ate his. Now I include a cheese stick too.

The biggest problem with Mary's lunches is her cute lunch bag combined with my failure thus far to buy her a little purse of her own. She thinks her lunch bag is her purse--and she carries it everywhere. At school it has replaced her pacifier as the comfort object of choice. It goes with her to chapel, to music class, to the playground, and remains at her side in her classroom regardless of the activity. Hey, a girl needs her handbag.

David's lunches have proved slightly more problematic. He lives off of pb&honey. But school is a nut-free zone. I was proud of myself for overcoming that obstacle with soy butter and lots of honey to disguise the taste. But David doesn't like old, yucky sandwiches with honey-soaked bread. He likes fresh ones. So no more sb&honey in his lunch. What to pack for my picky eater? When I asked him, he said he wanted only broccoli and carrots. In theory David loves broccoli and carrots. In practice, no way. They always come home untouched. So, I ask again, besides grapes and Sun Chips, what to pack for my picky eater?

In addition, David is apparently old enough to look longingly at other kids' lunches and seek conformity. So Monday at the grocery store David begged for crush cup yogurt. There was NO WAY I was going to buy that kid crush cup yogurt. First of all, it was about a million dollars, even with my Kroger card. And secondly, it seemed like a really, really bad idea. You crush the cup, on purpose, and then slurp the yogurt from the top?! Who thought of this idea, and where was their brain? (I had to read the directions to get a vague idea of the mechanics of the thing.) Why?!!!! Why would you slurp your yogurt from a cup? So you don't have to take half a second to pack a spoon? So you can sport a yogurt goatee all day? Like I said, this seemed like a really bad idea. But David begged, and pleaded:

"Please, please, please. Mom, everybody at school has them in their lunches. EVERYBODY! But I don't, so I need them."

Really? What parent had purchased such stupid, gimmicky crap and then sent it off to school, leaving the rest of us parents to deal with the fallout? There was no way I was going to allow my child to participate in such a stupid trend.

But he insisted, "Mom, everybody has crush cups." And I remembered my own lame lunches (which, to be fair, were very sensible and appropriate--I think no kids like what their own moms pack them). All that anxiety associated with wanting to fit is so very acute at the lunch table. So I did what any normal(??) mom would do--I let the emotional baggage from my own childhood determine what goes in my shopping cart. (Who needs the therapist's couch when you have Kroger?) Thus I let David buy the stupid crush cup yogurt for one million dollars. (I needed something to pack in his lunch, right?)

So David went off to school yesterday with crush cup yogurt in his lunch...and not much else. We were running late, and I couldn't quickly think of much else to add. I figured if he were a little hungry by the end of school, no big deal--I'd make him a fresh sandwich when he got home.

Well, I got an F in lunch-packing yesterday.

I clearly did not pack an adequate lunch for my child. The crush cup, I believe, was a disaster, as most of the yogurt apparently ended up on his pants. David isn't one for taking the time and initiative to figure out something new on his own. I'd forgotten to do a practice run of crushing and slurping before I sent him to school with the yogurt. Hello, people! I should not have to spend my time teaching my son how to slurp his yogurt! Why, oh, why did I buy that crap? (Oh yeah, because I never had a Cabbage Patch Kid.)

In addition, when I picked David up from school he was ravenously devouring his art project, glue and all. They had made cute paper arks with pairs of animal crackers attached. David's ark came home empty. I was so embarrassed. Not only had I packed David a lunch he was not qualified to eat, but the lunch had been so meager that he'd been forced to fill his grumbling tummy with animal crackers a la glue and construction paper. Poor kid!

Thankfully, today I did not have to pack any lunches. Mary doesn't go to school on Wednesdays, and, its being "P" week at school, today they were making pizza for lunch in David's class. David was very concerned about going to school with no lunch. He loves pizza, so I couldn't figure out why he had such a bad attitude about Pizza Day. In fact, the thought of making pizza for lunch at school nearly brought him to tears. This morning as we were getting into the car, David worriedly expressed concern again about going to school without a lunch.

Then he asked, "Are we going to make paper pizza...or real pizza?" He was very relieved to learn that they would not be making paper pizza.

Poor kid. He didn't want to have to eat glue and construction paper for lunch...again.