A Dinner Fight

Ah, the food battles in my house.  Last night Max refused his dinner of a delicious beef stew and pasta.  It took a threat of throwing out his newest DVD and the bribe of ginger ale to successfully get him to eat about eight bites.  I hate threatening him, especially when he cried so pitifully at the thought of his DVD going into the garbage.  But mealtimes can be frustrating, and I find myself losing my temper easily when I see plates of food going untouched by the kids.  I remember reading somewhere that a parent should consider herself lucky if her young child eats one good meal a day, and I know that I really have nothing to worry about as both my kids are growing beautifully.  For the parents who complain to me that their kids don't eat the way they want them to, in most instances I can reassure them by showing them their children's normal growth charts.  It's just a phase, I say; the picky eater you have now will probably become the sushi eater when he's eighteen or the lover of Indian vegetarian cuisine when she's a college student.  Kids' taste buds and palate preferences do mature and change as they grow up.  But as a mom, it's so difficult to lay out a meal and have both children spurn it.  I'm going to strive to be more patient at mealtimes.