The Snackocalypse: A Lighthearted Look at the Helplessness of Small Child Demands
Let’s talk snacks. Or more specifically, the never-ending, soul-depleting onslaught of snack requests made by small children at all hours of the day, regardless of how recently a full meal was lovingly prepared, ignored, and abandoned in favor of licking a single grape and screaming “I don’t like this anymore.”
Parenting books didn’t warn us about this. They taught us about milestones. About bedtime routines. About the importance of reading aloud. But where was the chapter titled:
“They Will Ask for a Snack While Eating a Snack”?
🎯 The Inescapable Snack Loop
It starts innocently enough. “Can I have a snack?”
You’re a generous, kind parent. You say yes. But then it’s:
“Not that snack.”
Or worse:
“I wanted the blue one.” (Note: there is no blue one)
Or the snack gets opened, tasted, and left on the stairs like some kind of sticky landmine for your bare foot.
There are days when it feels like your entire existence is simply facilitating, denying, negotiating, and eventually surrendering to snack-based demands from a human who still can’t pronounce “yogurt” correctly.
🪨 The Rock and the Hard Place
Sometimes the ask isn’t even about snacks. It’s about why the cup is wrong. Or why you dared to cut the toast. Or why you didn’t cut the toast. Or why they want the toast you threw away yesterday because they said they hated it.
And you are just there. Standing in your kitchen like a hostage negotiator. Except the hostage taker is wearing a dinosaur costume and crying because they wanted “more banana but not that banana.”
🫠 The Helplessness is Real
Here’s the truth nobody really tells you:
There is no strategy that fully prevents these moments. No parenting course. No Pinterest-perfect chart. No snack caddy or color-coded lunch box. You are not broken because you feel helpless. This is helpless.
You are living inside a tiny, adorable emotional tornado with opinions, underdeveloped logic, and the blood sugar of a fruit bat. And sometimes, the only thing you can do is sigh and say, “You may not have a fourth cheese stick. Please go yell about it over there.”
⚖️ A Boundaries Thing (That’s Still Really Hard)
What makes this trickier is that we know boundaries are good. Necessary, even. We know we can’t say yes to everything or give in every time they cry. But the actual doing of it? Especially when we’re tired, or touched-out, or just trying to sit down for 11 seconds?
Hard. So very hard.
Because what we’re saying with “no” isn’t just about snacks. It’s:
“No, I won’t ruin dinner.”
“No, I need to sit.”
“No, your body and mine are not the same.”
And sometimes, “No, because I’m a person too.” And that’s okay. That’s not selfish. That’s sanity preservation.
💬 The Postscript of Forgiveness
You’ll mess it up. We all do. You’ll say yes when you meant no. You’ll say no and then change your mind. You’ll eat the last of the Goldfish and lie about it. And maybe later you’ll wonder if you’re doing it all wrong (You’re not.)
You’re practicing. You’re holding the line one minute, and crumbling the next. That’s human. That’s parenting. That’s life in the snack trenches.
🫶 Solidarity in the Silliness
There are no trophies for surviving the snack wars. Just crumbs. So many crumbs.
But if you’ve ever stood in your pantry in silence, hiding from a 4-year-old with applesauce-based demands… you’re not alone. This is a season. A sticky, snack-covered, emotionally disorienting season. And we’re in it together—one chaotic granola bar at a time.
💛 Feeling snack-stranded and emotionally fried?
You’re not alone. If parenting has you tiptoeing through cracker landmines and questioning your sanity one cheese stick at a time, we’re here to help. Our therapists walk alongside parents in the real, messy moments—offering support, strategies, and a safe space to breathe.
🌐 www.matsumentalhealth.com
📍 800 E Railroad St, Suite 210, Wasilla, AK 99654
📞 (907) 313‑7965
✉️ scheduling@matsumentalhealth.com
