the dinner hour

Okay, now this probably, hopefully, happens to most every family with small children, the eternal struggle to get them to eat at dinner. These days I'm starting to feel like what's the point in forcing them to eat what Toby or I make for dinner, half the time I turn up my nose at Toby's more exotic dinners because I'm a horribly picky eater so is it a great surprise that my kids are picky too? And is it really going to kill them if they eat peanut butter and jelly (actually blackberry preserves without sugar or other sweetener added) on whole wheat bread or a couple of eggs with ketchup every night instead? The dinner battle just isn't one I want to participate in every night. I've got enough on my plate dealing with the fact that Oona will go down for a nap if anyone but me puts her down. With me she strips down to her birthday suit jumps around in the crib and on Saturday pooped all over her afghan. Thank God I have a sitter come in two mornings a week so I can do things like visit a doctor without Oona zeroing in on the biohazard box or volunteer at Owen's school. Anyhoo... last night we made Arthur loops with soy meatballs for the kids because they didn't want the tortilla pie I made. Owen finished most of his meal so he got to have some doritos as a treat and Oona threw most of her meal on the floor so she did not get doritos as a treat. Let me just clairfy here that I normally don't fashion Owen in ensembles that make him look like some precocious hipster skater but... 1. he just got the hat yesterday and was very happy with his purchase so I let him wear it most of the day. 2. he loves wearing his star wars lego t-shirts, of which he has two, but they're short sleeved so I said he could wear them if he put a long sleeved shirt on underneath. I just got Oona a flame hat this morning because she likes everything Owen and I think it will be funny to see her in her leopard coat with a flame hat on.