Nigella, I am not!

Last day at childcare

The short one, unbelievably, starts pre-prep next week. The year before she launches herself into 13 years of formal school education. Unashamedly, the last two years of childcare have successfully lulled me into a false sense of 'all-over-it-ness!' Daycare provided an onsite cook, laundry, nappy service and 12 hour day flexibility. Mind you, we also paid through the nose for the privilege.


Now, we are facing strict 8.45am to 2.45pm days, 5 days a fortnight. Such convenience for working parents! But that's OK, we have been compensated by the fact that we now not only have to provide the child, but one complete with a day's worth of grazing. For the short one, that mostly equates to her body weight.

Why is it that the mere thought of lunch boxes strikes absolute fear into the most capable of mothers? I thought I was missing something there at one stage. There seems to be a whole industry spawned from the fear of the lunchbox. Websites, books, fact sheets, whole government departments have been generated to deal with lunchbox anxiety.

Is it because as soon as your child enters the formal education realm you are immediately struck down with lunch amnesia? Surely, if your child is heading off to school, one can safely assume you have been successful in 4-5 years of lunch preparation prior to this.

Or is it because the pressure of providing a five star, nutritionally balanced, beautifully plated, nude lunch is just too much for all those non-Nigellas amongst us. No doubt there is something in the 'not-wanting-to-be-known-as-the-mother-of-the-poor-child-who-has-stale-vegemite-sandwiches-each-day'.

Perhaps then we could take a leaf out of Nigella's book...just start eating in the closet late at night...