My life has become dishes.

Now that we have two young children, my husband and I have had to face the grim reality that the diet we subsisted on in college — made entirely of ramen noodles, Triscuits, Cheez Whiz and beer — probably is no longer appropriate. At the very least, we would have to upgrade from light beer to a bock for the sake of the children's nutritional intake.

Fortunately, greater aspirations than simply updating the old menu took hold. And though I am far from an organic-smoothie-making, chia seeds-juicing, quinoa-cooking, essential-oil-wafting, lake-to-table-searing aficionado, I have mastered some pretty mean macaroni dishes. I also have perfected heating up the frozen meal; I even add my own fresh vegetables into the mix simply for bragging rights. Don't feel too intimidated.

Not only do I cook but I cook multiple times a day. It turns out that children need to eat on a fairly regular basis — a factoid that most certainly was not covered in our Lamaze class. Long gone are the days of our youth when we could skip breakfast, eat a family-size bag of Doritos for lunch and then cruise through the day until hitting the need for a rabid kitchen raid around midnight. My tiny little beings want not only breakfast but also lunch and dinner. It's as if they are growing or something.

Being the super mom that I am, I have decided that yes, I will feed them all meals. And yes, at least most of the meals will be a step up from the Cheez Whiz I miss so dearly. "Mom of the Year" star stickers are not necessary but would be greatly appreciated.

I can handle the cooking. I can find purpose and value and sometimes even joy in the process. What I cannot handle are the dishes — the mountain of never-ending ceramics that scream at me from across the room, threatening to stink up the joint if I don't acquiesce to their sudsy will in a timely manner.

I didn't grow up with sink duty. My parents use disposable dishes and cutlery. It was a big deal and a true nod to their devotion toward the environment when they moved from plastic foam to paper plates. You're welcome, Earth.

I tend to be slightly more environmentally conscious. I can't justify the garbage heap of plastic after every single meal. But I would be lying if I didn't say that I love when my parents come to visit and buy the house a tower of disposables. I mean, I can't not use the paper plates they bought me, right? That would be rude, and worse, those trees would have died for nothing! As an environmentalist, I consider it my duty to use the paper plates my parents buy me.

Unfortunately, the parents leave and the disposables run out, and the mountain of dishes returns, angrier than ever before.

There is only one solution to this never-ending dishes dilemma: edible plates. You heard me.

This is not a new idea. In fact, it's an ancient one. I saw a program on History (or maybe it was "iCarly") that said edible dishes were seen in every early culture on every continent. It's the basic premise behind pizza and tortillas and nan. Cook a delicious plate to eat your meal off and live a Dawn-free existence! It's genius!

So why are we doubling down on the dishes by using a plate when we eat pizza? I say, no more! From now on, when I go to a Mexican restaurant, I want my quesadilla served directly on the table! I'll insist on it. The same goes for my wraps at Subway and my pitas at Falafel Palace. Table service will have a new name. Rather than forks and knives, we can use breadsticks as chopsticks and iceberg lettuce leaves as cups. Let's start a Resist the Dish Revolution!

As for my own household, I'm thinking it's time to start serving pizza at every meal. Breakfast pizza! Dessert pizza! The kids will be happy. The meals can still be chock-full of dairy, meat and vegetables. And the best part is that my sink will be empty. Wipe down the table and voilà! I'm done.

Maybe eating like a college student was the secret trick to parenting all along. Minus the beer joke at the top. Kids would totally prefer a porter.

Katiedid Langrock is author of the book "Stop Farting in the Pyramids," available at http://www.creators.com/books/stop-farting-in-the-pyramids. Like Katiedid Langrock on Facebook, at http://www.facebook.com/katiedidhumor. To find out more about her and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate webpage at www.creators.com.