Manners, Schmanners

It's 7:06 Thursday morning, and the kids are at the table having cold cereal for breakfast. The mornings can be a rush of requests turned demands, then barked orders, so breakfast has the potential to be the one quiet place amid the storm of school mornings. I really should sit and enjoy this time with them, but I rarely do. For one thing, I am usually busy packing their lunches while they breakfast. Then there is usually some refereeing and "Please eat"ing happening, so it's not usually quiet and peaceful. Even now as I sit here I've had to break up some bickering and remind them we will be leaving shortly, so they will need to shovel it in rather than terrorize one another. But the real reason I didn't eat breakfast with them this morning has more to do with me, and I hate to tell you this, but I can't stand to be in the room when they are eating sometimes. Ryan says I'm a Nazi about this, and I try not to be, but I can't tolerate the mouth noises that result from haphazard eating. And let's face it, a crammed-in breakfast is not the time or place for the manners sermon from Mom.
So, there you have it: I can talk about poop or puke or what have you while I eat, but to listen to slurps or smacks or mouth breathing at the table coaxes from me a less than generous version of my usually calm, charming self.
And since I assume you are all wiser than I, here is where I expect you to help me. Even if I don't know you at all, any ideas for teaching children to eat consistently with closed mouth without damaging their little egos for life are more than appreciated. I'm serious. It's big for me. I can see my kids never going on second dates because of their table manners, and I can't have them living at home as adults, but Ryan says I nag and I should let up a little. I can't just not eat with them forever, so, really. . . any ideas?