Food, glorious food

Meal times at our house remind me of The Very Hungry Caterpillar: for supper tonight, Evan ate through one container of yogurt, seven steamed carrots, two servings of corn, five bites of roast beef, and one potato. Ethan is finally branching out of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich obsession with variations such as: "ONE bread with ONE jelly," a slice of bread with peanut butter, a slice of bread with butter, and a plain old slice of bread. That's my boy. He still eats more fruits and veggies than anyone I know (besides Evan), and drinks tons of milk so I haven't been too worried about his general diet but Matt is beyond baffled by the meat boycott. He also feels strongly that each boy should eat whatever I prepare for dinner (and eat it with a smile on your face!) and thinks I am enabling bad habits when I set a PB&J on Ethan's plate while dishing up pot roast for the rest of us. We usually maintain a solid united front on parenting issues but it is really hard with this food situation. I was a really picky eater and I turned out fine. Matt always cleaned his plate... and turned out fine. I figure that I am the one making dinner and making the sandwich, so it should be my call. I'm not offended at all, I'd rather prepare something that I know will get eaten (and by 'prepare' I mean buttering a slice of bread, seriously) than spend the whole dinner with someone in tears over hostile negotiations. Matt thinks the whole concept of 'taste preferences' is ridiculous and there's no reason not to choke down whatever is on your plate. Taste is of the utmost importance to me, and I am living proof that spoiled, over-indulged picky eaters can grow up to eat green veggies, and lots of them. Besides, one of Ethan's first sentences was 'mowe bwoccowi, pweese.' We can't have screwed up that much in the last 3 years, can we? Hopefully this will phase out soon and we can stand united together against the next soul-sucking obsession. Hmmm, another bedtime boycott, perhaps? Or something even MORE fun.