I Hate Dinner

These days dinner is the most stressful time of the day. It’s a disasterous shit show every night. Not only will Owen not eat ANYTHING that I make for dinner (as he’s whining and hanging on my leg) he won’t sit in his chair, or on my lap or play he just screams and cried until we are all done eating. And just as we are finishing the last dish he grabs my face and says “snack” and “faffle” over  and over again until I make him a waffle that HE DOESNT EAT. I spend more time making this kid food he doesn’t eat, than anything else, so maybe he won’t wake up at 5a EVERY MORNING. How can this amazingly cute and funny and sweet little dude be such a MONSTER between 5p-8p every night? I thought witching hour was for babies? I keep reminding myself that (hopefully) one day I look back at this post and these dinners are a distant memory and all I remember is how much I love family my kiddos around the dinner table.