We need to go grocery shopping so I'm down to using whatever we have on hand to whip something up for dinner. Last night was potato hash, scrambled eggs, and sourdough toast. My scrambled eggs are looked down upon compared to LaVor's so I knew it'd be a fight to get The Lime to eat them. Doodlebug scarfed his down then threw his arms up and said, "Ahhhh!" which means all done. We were off to a great start! Thankfully, The Lime said I pre-mixed the eggs well enough so he ate all of his. But then I had to try and convince both of them to eat their potatoes (which had salami, bell peppers, and red onion in them) and their toast. That's when things got interesting...
Doodlebug kept his mouth shut tight, whipped his head back and forth, swatted the fork away; he tried everything to prevent the food from going into his mouth.
The Lime tried distracting himself from the task at hand. A little coloring and playing dead was way better than eating your dinner.
Time ticked by and voices were raised, tears started flowing, and some even began gagging. But everyone finished their dinner (even the sourdough toast that tasted like vinegar). By the time dinner was through, so was I.
Even though I dread it every night, I absolutely positively refuse to cater to their little pallets and make three different meals. If there's anything I learned from when The Lime was little it was that everyone eats the same thing (we used to feed him the toddler ravioli and such and then it hit me, "Why are we doing this!?!"). It's a pain in the butt to deal with stinkers at dinnertime but I know it'll pay off in the end.
After WWIII erupted and then quieted down, so did the boys. They played, wrestled, loved on each other, and made me realize that those 30+ minutes of pure chaos is nothing compared to an eternity of happiness.
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