For the past five years, I've remembered with longing those Saturday and Sunday mornings when Zach and I would go to Elmo's Diner in Carrboro for breakfast (which, to me, is the best meal of the day to eat out). My favorites were the huevos rancheros and the corned beef hash with over-easy eggs on top.

This, of course, was before we had children.

Don’t get me wrong: I love my children and would not trade my life as a mother for anything in the world. But I do get a bit resentful of how difficult it is to enjoy my food when I’m having to cut up their food, take my daughter to the bathroom mid-meal, make sure that they’re not shaking a tablespoon of salt on their food, etc.

For a while, we tried to do our weekend breakfasts/brunches with the kids. But when it became clear that it was impossible to order eggs and have any hope of eating them while they were still hot… well, it was better not to go at all than to go and be annoyed with my kids.

But I have recently learned that we have returned to the time when we can enjoy restaurant breakfasts again.

It happened on our recent trip to New York City, where the kids were to be the flower girl and ring bearer in a cousin’s wedding. Although we’d planned on staying in a place where we could avail ourselves of a shared kitchen, things did not work out as planned. And so we found ourselves eating in restaurants for every meal for four and a half days.

That included breakfasts. And although I wasn’t looking forward to our first Brooklyn diner breakfast, I was pleasantly surprised. Now that our kids are 4 and nearly 6, they are finally able to manage rather well with a meal, particularly breakfast. Once the pancakes or sausage are cut up, they’re all set since eggs, bacon, toast, oatmeal, etc. are all foods young children can manage independently. (And for some reason my daughter does not need to go potty mid-meal at breakfast the way she does at lunch and dinner. I have no idea why!)

But the other reason I enjoy a restaurant breakfast with my children is the menu. The food is the same as the adults eat, just in smaller portions. There are no chicken fingers, one the most inappropriately named foods (next to sweetbreads, which are neither sweet nor bread). There are no grilled cheeses. There are no hot dogs. What’s on their plate is essentially the same as what’s on mine. (Gemma even ate eggs Benedict at one of the restaurants.)

Why do restaurants create those ridiculous children’s menus rather than offer child-sized portions of their regular menu?

Now don’t think that I’m the type of person who is eager to bring children to a nice restaurant. I am appalled at parents who will spend money going out to dinner but not spend money on a babysitter for children who should clearly be home in bed. I mean, really: Just stay home!

But if a restaurant is going to the effort of accommodating children with a kids menu, why doesn’t that menu include the same items that are on the main menu?

I suppose I should just order the regular size food and plan to take the leftovers home. Or I guess I should ask if they’d do smaller half-order portions of main menu items.

Hmm, that’s not a bad idea. I’ll have to try that.

Nancy writes once a month about food for TriangleMom2Mom.