There are a lot of things that stress me out every day: getting my kids to school on time, managing the onslaught of daily errands and phone calls, finishing the next chapter of the book I’m writing, thinking about how we are ever going to be able to afford to put two kids through college, let alone ever retire.  But the stress that I feel about these things does not even begin to compare to the stress that I feel about what to serve my children for dinner each and every night.   

 

I loathe dinner time.  Breakfast is relatively easy, lunch I can handle, but dinner is the bane of my existence.  It’s not just that I don’t like to cook, or that I don’t really have time to cook.  Though both of these things are true, they’re not insurmountable.  No, what makes dinner so unpleasant for me is the nightly battle that I have with my daughter over what, and how much, she must eat.  It generally goes something like this:  she asks me what’s for dinner, and I tell her.  If my answer does not include macaroni and cheese, cheese quesadilla, plain pasta or chicken tenders, her answer is always aww-uh.   And then the negotiations begin.  How many bites do I have to eat?  Will you give me something else if I don’t like it?  Can I have dessert?  Most nights, she ends up hungry, and in tears, and I end up furious and ready to strangle her.  Well, this week, I decided to end it.  Not only do I fear that I am laying the groundwork for a future eating disorder, but I also just can’t take it anymore.   Read More.

Risa Green is a critically acclaimed author who lives in Los Angeles. In the last four years, she has produced two children, called Harper and Davis, and two novels, called Notes from the Underbelly and Tales from the Crib. She is currently working on a third (novel not child). Risa writes the popular Tales from the Mommy Track column for Mommy Track'd.