As soon as my daughter woke this morning, she ate a nice big banana. Now after her bath, I am ready for my breakfast. She normally eats breakfast #1, often a small meal, around 7 a.m. with a more significant meal around 9:30 or 10 a.m. when I get around to eating. But today she says to me: "That granola we made. It must be getting stale."
To which I reply, "No. Not even remotely."
And she says, "Well, maybe we should eat some to make sure it doesn't get stale."
So, she ends up with a small serving of granola, about 1/3 cup max, and a few ounces of milk. I dole out the milk in small portions to prevent spills and waste. I always add, "Drink this and you can have more."
That left me. Eternal mother's dilemma. Why cook a meal just for me? So I slice a piece of my homemade bread, which with my lack of cutting skills this morning becomes about the size of half a traditional store-bought sandwich slice. Although I want Nutella, I opt for the peanut butter since it has more nutritional value. And I'm trying to talk myself into a banana and a glass of water. But it's too bloody cold to drink cold water. Maybe tea...
And lunch. We will be heading to the library as soon as I see if I can get those tickets for my father-in-law, then lunch, then work. Another ice cream party. I was almost thinking leftover spinach dip and bread (or pasta) but it was so spicy for my daughter... Maybe I should reserve that for my husband and I for a packed lunch tomorrow.
Another option, as we're low on vegetables again, is to whip up one of my typical winter salads of red leaf lettuce, raisins, carrot peels and berry vinaigrette dressing... And have some sort of entree to accompany it...
After my daughter finished the granola and milk, someone was still hungry. This didn't surprise me as she hadn't had any significant protein source yet. So I offered another of my famous snacks: peanut butter and raisins on pretzels. Of course, she does all the dipping and arranging.
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