Who is making these lunches? Who has the time? Who has the patience? Who keeps candy eyes on hand? Don't tomatoes taste gross with frosting on them? And, are we really just cool with candy and frosting being part of lunch now? (If so, I may not be failing quite so resoundingly....)
But, most importantly, are your kids eating these lunches you have so meticulously prepared?
Because my kids don't eat anything I prepare. Ever. If I thought there was even the remotest chance that a grape caterpillar would inspire my son Henry to eat something besides processed carbs, I might just muster enough motivation to give this a whirl. Hey, I've tried making shapes out of cheese or using the cookie cutters on a PB & J. But, we're talking about a kid who only recently came out of what my husband and I referred to as his Tuna Period. Maybe you're thinking we called it his Tuna Period because all he ate during this time was tuna. Wrong. Henry's Tuna Period was a dark time in our family when, regardless of what type of food he was eating, he would chew it until it devolved into pinkish-brownish pulp and then deposit it somewhere in the vicinity of his plate. Essentially, he "tuna-ed" all of his food. So much so that my daughter, who has the misfortune of sitting across the table from Henry, actually once vomited in disgust during breakfast (and I'm fairly certain she has eaten boogers).
So, no, my kids are not eating anything I prepare. For example, tonight's dinner:
In our house, the general rule of thumb seems to be, if it ain't Cheese Nips, Henry ain't eating it. So, mamas, if you're making friendly, edible garden buddies and your kids are yumming them down, hats off. But, please, for those of us entrenched in the lunch wars, create a private group or something, yeah?