We eat breakfast every morning at 7:30am sharp. Once the big kids are off to school at 8:35am I invariably hear from the younger ones, “Mom, we’re hungry. Is it lunch time yet?”
I feel like I’m raising hobbits.
No doubt Tolkien was thinking of his own four children when his imagination created hobbits: Pint-sized humans with cheerful dispositions, an affinity for adventure and mischief, huge feet that can’t be contained in any shoes, and insatiable, bottomless appetites.
They may as well be asking me for “second breakfasts” and “elevensies,” like hobbits, that’s how often they eat. Today my three year old made himself a turkey sandwich at 9am, convinced he was on the brink of starvation when I refused to feed him one more thing, confident the waffles and smoothie he had just gulped down could tide him over for at least another hour. Turkey, cheese, mayo, the whole enchilada! He got it all out, made it all up and devoured it with great satisfaction. I didn’t know he could do that.
And I like Tolkien’s idea of hobbits going shoeless. Snow boots, rain boots, cleats, church shoes, trainers, basketball high tops, ballet slippers, you name it, they wear them and outgrow them in mere months. My husband insists on buying everything big, but even then I’m buying shoes all of the time! If only their feet were big, callused and hairy like those hobbits and could kick soccer balls and walk in the snow with no problem.
(And here’s my current theory on buying big–They’re ill fitting when they look new, then by the time they fit properly they have holes and are dirty. It’s loose-loose.)
The one difference is that one day, these little “halflings” will grow up to become bigger than me. Their feet will stop growing and I will miss the elevensies and second breakfasts dearly.
Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s time for second lunch.