I can cook. I even write about cooking. I also eat my cooking. I tend to like my cooking. Joe likes my cooking (or so he says). Making a transition from giving the kids Mac and Cheese from the box to homemade is one of immense pain. What? You use real cheese to make the sauce? Where's the packet? Where's the addictive substance hiding in the dehydrated "cheese?"
Feeding kids is one frustrating task, as you can see. Miles does like fruit whereas Caitlynn is harder to feed anything from the produce section. I had her doctor lecture her about eating vegetables but it was short-lived. The carrot and ranch thing only lasted a week and even getting her to eat one baby carrot turned into a war. It's one carrot. One flippin' carrot. It isn't even a whole adult carrot, but a baby one drenched in ranch dressing. You won't even taste it.
Somewhere along the way, I must have missed the parenting class that teaches you how to feed your kids. Or it could be that marketing has made my children want the processed foods more than the food I make at home. Yeah, my food doesn't come in flashy packaging and pasta I use isn't shaped like Spongebob or Spiderman. My food must look really boring to them, no matter how fancy I make it. Your cookies aren't made by elves? But I like the cookies made by the little elves. They are so cute.
I hate you, Kraft Foods.
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