Pre-breakfast Snacking. Revealed.

You know how with some people you can tell them the same thing over and over and over and over and they will still do it anyway?

Now make that person three years old, an early riser, and obsessed with preparing and eating pre-breakfast snacks.

Lexi, you see, ever since she could open the refrigerator on her own (actually ever since I could feel her moving around in my womb), has been determined to be independent and self sufficient, especially when it comes to choosing her own snacks before anyone else is awake.

I briefly looked into getting a padlock for our refrigerator, but didn't think the DCFS licensing people would be very approving of that.

Eric suggested that I start making snacks for her the night before and leaving them for her to get in the morning. This worked a few times, until she began getting more food on her own after finishing the prepared snack.

The problem isn't really with me not wanting her to eat early in the morning. It has more to do with what she does with food when unsupervised.

Covered in tomato seeds, 2012

Like the time when she took an entire container of leftover spiral noodles and dumped them all over her bed and bedroom floor and then proceeded to dance on top of them. I discovered this later in the morning when I thought it was strange that she kept trying to get the dog to go in her room, only to patter out seconds later munching on something. So I opened the door and turned on the light. Yay.

Or the time she got into the container of brownies and ate a large portion of the 8x8 pan IN HER BED. Her sheets were plastered in chocolate.

Or the time when she spilled the box of blueberries all over the kitchen floor and then hid in her room under her covers until we woke up and went searching for her.

Or the time when she opened the container of the freshly whipped cream and spooned it into a mason jar and ate all of it with a spoon.

Or the time she time she ate the ENTIRE POUND of red grapes that I had just purchased the day before.

Then she did it again, months later, with sour grapes that her grandparents sent. About an hour and a terrible stomachache later, those grapes graced my car with their reappearance. Yay.

Or the time last fall that I made several pumpkin pies. One of the pies ended up in the fridge overnight. The next morning, Lexi claimed to not be hungry and refused her breakfast. A little later I went into the fridge looking for some pie to eat and there it was. HALF of the full sized pie had been eaten out of the crust. A small fork remained in the pan. Next time, Love, remove your evidence.

Or the morning that Lexi came happily into my room announcing that she had found a snack and I should be so proud of her. And there she was, taking huge bites out of an enormous block of mozzarella cheese.

Fall 2012

Or the time I found crackers crushed all over the couch, or the spaghetti noodles covering the floor, or the NINE grape tomatoes stuffed down the bathroom sink drain (those were really fun to get out).

Bites taken out of fresh loaves of bread. The bunch of bananas half gone, the peels littering the counter. Entire jars of jelly slurped up with a spoon. All but one of the marshmallows missing from the bag in the pantry. My chocolate bar in the freezer gone - crumbs of evidence littering the floor. Granola spilled all over the kitchen in an attempt to pour it into her bowl by herself while the house sleeps, hummus smeared on the skin like lotion, leftover smoothies dumped on the table and floor. An entire container of organic yogurt (in other words, $$$) smeared onto the kitchen floor and hastily wiped up with kitchen towels and thrown into the sink.

If we drank coffee, I'm sure she would make it for us in a heartbeat, and serve it to us (complete with cream and sugar) in bed by 6 AM sharp.

The microwave sits way up high on top of the refrigerator because of another pre breakfast snacking incident. I came out into the kitchen because I smelled something burning. And there was Lexi, looking into the microwave as a paper plate with cheerios on it burned to a crisp.

Green smoothie face

The rule in our house goes: Put everything you don't want eaten up high and out of sight. More baked and fresh goods have disappeared than you probably realize. My sister tends to be forgetful of these things and left her half filled lunch bag on the counter over night. The next day at work, she opened her bag looking for the banana and bag of chips she left in there from the day before. Instead, she found an empty bag of chips with a banana peel stuffed inside.

The other morning I took a pan of uncooked cinnamon rolls out of the fridge that I had prepared the night before. As the oven was preheating, I was in the bathroom getting ready for the day. Minutes later, Eric walks into the kitchen and immediately sees that one of the unbaked rolls is missing. It is soon returned, a little worse for wear, in a small Tupperware container, the thief complaining that it wasn't cooked and therefore not good to eat.

If you think these stories are too ridiculous to be true, you obviously haven't met my sweet girl. I never lie. Also, this is just the tip of the iceberg. I could go on for days about these funny absurdities. And yes, we do discipline our kids and have tried so very many things to get this early bird snacking under control. Nothing has worked, so now we do our best to hide the good stuff and laugh at the stories we can now tell.

The good news? Early mornings are never boring around here. And this morning, she didn't touch my chocolate cake. Hallelujah.