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Dinner Wars

I mentioned a week or two ago that we transitioned the twins from high chairs to boosters at the kitchen table.  We had a rectangular table that was perfect for 3 chairs.  When we added two more chairs (with boosters) we noticed some problems.  First, we always had to move the table out at dinner time to access one of the chairs.  Second, the boosters were too high and the chairs no longer fit nicely under the table.

Knowing what my mom was storing in her basement, I mentioned that we were in need of an oval-shaped table.  She jumped at the chance to get that out of her basement and get her other table (our current table) back on her screened-in porch. 

Now, we have wonderful dining experiences. 

  • Keith thinks that since all 5 chairs fit nicely without pulling the table out, we don't have to move things around at dinner time.  This sounds good in theory, until you are the person stuck between Keira and Colin. 
  • Keira likes to have one hand on my arm while she eats.  It is also the hand that she likes to eat with when she gets bored with her fork.  It is usually wet or sticky or both. I get tired of wiping my arm off after each rub down she gives it, so it's easier just to have smeared food on my arm during dinner. 
  • To keep the peace, sometimes Connor wants me to sit by him, sometimes I can sit on the end of the table by Colin.  One night, Keith sat next to Keira.  Suddenly all of his cucumbers had been removed from his plate and were moved to hers.  She was very upset when he tried to take them back.
  • Connor, now not confined by his booster seat, likes to get up and leave the table numerous times to try to sit some place else.  The new seat would have been vacated by mommy or daddy when they got up to get more napkins, milk, or cucumbers.
  • I don't know which is worse - Keira's gross food-covered hand lovingly on mine, or Colin taking a forkful of refried beans and wiping them on my shirt sleeve for reasons still unknown to me.  But hey it made him laugh!
  • Colin also prefers a relaxed setting during supper time.  I've caught him leaning back, with his feet on the table, ankles crossed, contentedly eating his piece of bread.
  • However, the BEST event, as well as the one that shows TOTAL lack of any kind of control at my house:  last night, after Colin stole mac and cheese off my plate, I look over to see his foot on the table.  He takes a noodle, places it on the bottom of his foot, and then cleans it up with his napkin.  When asked what he is doing, he responds with a proud smile and a laugh.
Rather than get upset at this chaos that consumes my kitchen, I find it easier to just smile and be thankful for the food, the table, and the blessings that sit around it. Even if those blessings are covered with ranch dressing and noodles.


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