Friday Lunch Box Revolution

 Happy New Year.  We hope you holidays were joyous and you are happily settling back into your routine.  One aspect of this modern mother's routine that causes her more angst than it should is school lunch.   This is because she wishes to send her minions off each day with  a healthy/balanced/nutritious mid-day meal.  She is hampered in this pursuit by time, the spacial confines of lunch boxes and her own lack of creativity at 7:20 a.m.  Or so she thought.   Then her friend Jane sent her the PRI link The Art of Making Lunch Boxes in Japan.

 She now realizes she has been looking at lunch all wrong.  This is not a problem but an opportunity.  Like scrapbooking with food.  Really, what on earth is keeping her from constructing a 6 colored lunch that looks like Hello Kitty or a Piano?  Nothing but her own inertia.  This revelation lead her to YouTube where she discovered this video How to Make Bento Lunch Boxes.

 So now she knows. And her wooly winter hat goes off to these creative and dedicated lunch packers. 

Should her octopus shaped mini sausages not turn out or her bunny ear apple fall to pieces before it reaches school she has also come across the following sites which might prove helpful in the pursuit of lunch. 

My Meal Box

Lunch in a Box - Bento Resources

School Family Lunches

Eatingwell.com - Healthy Kid Lunches


Family Fun - back to School Lunches

LapTop Lunches

Parenting - Lunches

If you want to read more about the ancient and trendy (everyone in Brooklyn is doing it) art of Bento follow this New York Times link.  Happy Lunching!

Photos from The kitchn, Women's Day and My Meal Box.

The Lesson of the Twice Forgotten Lunch

There is a horrible feeling, a cringe-inducing regret a mother can get when she knows she has let her child down. For example, on the way to school she may have told him she would bring his forgotten lunch, but then she promptly forgot. She went about some morning errands, a meeting, the gym, the supermarket, and then she came home at noon to find the packed lunch sitting expectantly on the kitchen counter.

A shock of recognition and remembrance of that morning conversation: “Don’t worry; I’ll bring it in.” A vision of her child sitting forlorn and empty handed among chattering friends as they obliviously scarf down go-gurts. And a mad dash to carry that lunch to him (her baby!) before lunch period is over. 

Of course, this mother knows the school staff would not let her child go hungry. She knows that a forgotten lunch is a small inconvenience, an opportunity for her son to recognize his own resilience. She knows not to sweat the small stuff, the blessing of the skinned knee, and blah, blah, blah. Yet, she cannot help but feel aghast, a bit sad that she has let her child down, even in this small way.  Because, well, she’s his mother and she can’t help but want to fix everything for him, to make things perfect for a child she loves so much. 

But why? Why the guilt, when her rational mind knows better? Perhaps guilt is just a condition of motherhood. Or, maybe it’s because her baby is actually 10 and not very needy. Most of the time, he’s excellent company, and she knows this probably won’t last. Only 10 and already, there are fewer things he needs from her. No more teeth to brush, no more hair to comb, fewer puzzles to help him solve. He continues to grow and thrive, forgotten lunch or not, perfect mother or not.  

These changes are, of course, cause for celebration – not just for his growing self-sufficiency, but also for his mother’s new-found freedom. Yes, this modern mother may look forward to watching her son grow up, but she may also feel a twinge of wistfulness for the much younger child he once was. Her regret over the twice forgotten lunch might not really be guilt at all, but a swirl of nostalgia and surprise that these first 10 years slipped by so fast.