Obviously, my cooking sucks

Have you seen the price of bananas in Coles lately? For a household that is accustomed to consuming acres of the yellow fruit each week, it has come as a bit of a shock. Not that I blame the poor farmers in Queensland - goodness knows, they need our business more than ever. I've been buying five bananas a week instead of about 20...for roughly the same price. But I figure it's worth it, because at least some of the money will get to those who grew them, and my cherubs will still get a taste of nana. However.

I am beginning to wonder why I spend so much time each week at the supermarket. Depending on how many other mummies are there, and how many munchkins I have 'helping' me, on average it takes me an hour to acquire the food necessary for a week. It takes roughly fifteen minutes to load everything in the boot of the car, and then take it all out again at home. And then of course, I have the joy of unpacking it all in the kitchen, and attempting to fit it into the teeny tiny sliver of a cupboard I call my pantry. So all in all, an average weekly shop takes about two hours of my life every week (not to mention a sizeable portion of the treasure hoarded in my purse).

This is not, of course, counting the trips I need to do mid-week for things like milk, and nappies, and the bits and pieces I forgot in the big shop. Oh, and the ingredients for the cake I need to make at the last minute for a morning tea at Christian's school. We have not even touched on the delicate subject of time spent cooking and preparing meals!! And because I am trying not to completely screw my kids up (and because due to Jack's allergies I have to make most things from scratch), the majority of the food I buy is fairly nutritious and fresh. And expensive. So my question is this: why do I bother spending so much time and money buying, packing, sorting, unpacking, and cooking lovely jubbly food, when I throw so much of it out?

I suppose it feels as though I have chucked more food than usual this week, due to the Mouse's unholy vom-fests. She hasn't eaten much lately, this is true. Compared to many of my lovely friends, my kids usually have what could be called "healthy appetites" (meaning that when we are in other people's houses, they eat enough to feed the starving masses) Let's be honest - my kids do eat an astonishing amount of the foods they like. And they will try anything, especially if the promise of 'sumpin else' is taken away until the plate is clean. But, like every kid, there is always something left on the plate after at least one meal every day. And when it comes to Mistress Mouse, the amount of food left on the high chair tray (and the floor, and secreted under her tushie, and on the dog) is undeniably more than the amount actually in her tiny tummy.

If I make Weetbix for her brekkie, she might eat three or four teaspoons. Toast gets mushed between her fingers and dropped on the floor. I always think the sultanas get eaten, only to find them in unusual places several hours later. Pear gets licked and squished; banana is sometimes devoured and sometimes becomes art; avocado is simply fun, apparently. The only foods guaranteed to go down my girl's gullet are yoghurt and cheese. And as I'm sure you know, you never, ever give a spewy baby dairy food...unless you are a masochist.

So here is my conundrum: do I persist in enduring marathon efforts at the super-duper every week, and the associated packing / unpacking / cooking / money / manic episodes that go with it? Or do I adopt a more relaxed attitude towards my children's nutrition and allow them to start foraging for food on their own? I'm sure Mais could find a few days' worth of nibblies stashed in and around her high chair, and the big kids could most likely beg snacks from the neighbours. Surely if I left the door of the pantry open, they could rummage around and find something edible? I could view it as an exercise in extending their creative talents. Here children, take these canned lentils, a bottle of five-year-old honey-soy marinade, and some stale rolled oats, and see what sort of masterpiece you can create for dinner. Most likely, Maisie would eat the whole lot.