I've said it before: parenting is easy. If you don't count trips to the ER, and nights up with puking kids. But otherwise, it should be easy. Seamless. Just a matter of timing.
When they rise in the morning, they all go their respective assignments, opening their assigned curtains. I bought blackout curtains for their room, so they sleep better, because that is the sunny side of the house.
So, the house now filled with sunlight, Johnny puts the TV on one of the approved cartoons (Dora is dead to me) and Nat serves cereal, and perhaps a piece of fruit. The cereal is a mix, often Cheerios and Raisin Bran. Shredded Mini-Wheats, sugared, if possible. Special K, with the dried fruit in it. Or a mix of granola and Rice Krispies.
Mid morning, snack time arrives. They never (well, rarely) ask for it, but they eat it happily. Yogurt, a Mozzarella cheese stick, a small bowl of Cheese Nips, and a glass of orange juice.
Some time a 'Gogurt', but those things freak me out. The look like a condom filled with spooge, and I can't stand watching my kids suck them down. Though they love them.
Then, about 1:30 pm, I assemble sandwiches. Nat loves my grilled cheese, John loves fried egg and cheese. Sun Chips on the side, or Cheetos, and a bowl of fruit cocktail, or peaches, and lately, the wife keeps a big Ziploc bag of chopped watermelon in the fridge.
Then the TV goes off, and the puzzles, and games, and books come out. Crafts are known to occur. They read stories to each other. Then, cleanup time. No toys on the floor after 5:30 pm. Pick it up, kids, or I throw it away. Then, Mom makes a hot dinner, with vegetables, and salad. We eat together, they at the table, and I eat on the couch.
Wanna make money? Design a restaurant with couches for men to eat on, with TV trays. Have a nice solid wood picnic type table positioned near them, for their wife and kids to sit near them and eat. Serve them all with pie plates, like we eat on. Easiest thing to eat with in your lap, and the kids can chase their food around and catch it, and it stays off the table.
Anyway, Keep It Simple, Stupid. Fuck Doctor Spock. And any other book-writing so-called 'child rearing expert'.
This is not rocket science.