The boys are definitely cycling back through a hungry stage in this house (which is just awesome timing, what with the whole not-cooking-much stage we’re in). Pants are shorter, waistbands are tighter (unfortunately, mine, too), and bellies are generally growling and empty all day long it seems.
Case in point: Saturday evening for dinner, Bennett ate about 1 1/2 grilled cheese sandwiches (not puny sandwich bread either; big slices of whole-grain Arnold bread), some mandarin oranges, Goldfish crackers and a cup of milk. At around 10:30 I went into the big boys’ bedroom to take a picture of them sleeping on the floor, and Bennett woke up (FAIL). He looked me in the eye and said, “Mom! I’m so hungry!” I rubbed his back and told him I was sure he was hungry, but I was also sure he could make it until morning and then I’d make him a big breakfast. He immediately burst into tears, so I said, “I’ll bring you one cracker* and that’s it. You’ll have to wait until morning to eat anything else.” He agreed, so I got the cracker, he ate it practically in his sleep, and then fell back asleep.
Sunday morning, this same boy who traditionally is not a fan of breakfast (nearly every day is a struggle to get him to eat a decent breakfast) devoured 3 pieces of toast and a glass of milk.
Our grocery bill is going to be horrendous.
*Nothing satisfies your middle-of-the-night hunger like a stale snowflake-shaped Ritz that your mom bought probably four months ago.