This. This so much. I make a full dinner almost every night. And almost every night at least one of my kids says “I don’t want that, can I make something else?” And before we cut out grains, and most dairy, and most sugar they would make a sandwich and that would be the end of it. Not so much. Now “can I make something else?” involves making eggs, or GF pancakes, or some major time investment in food because my kids won’t eat a lettuce wrap in lieu of a tortilla wrap.
Last night I heated up leftover sausage and peppers. I had some places to be and couldn’t make a fresh dinner. Two of my kids just took out a sausage (or two. Or three) and ate it plain. Woe be unto them if they eat some peppers and onions, even though they eat them all the time in other dishes. My biggest complained he didn’t like sausage and I have no idea what he ate. Probably a sausage later on when I wasn’t looking.
I recently made a delicious, mouth watering Moroccan chicken dish. It had ten or twelve different spices, mushrooms, onions, red wine gravy, oh it was divine. My sister requested it go on the “make this again, all the time” list. My kids barely looked at it once they saw the (easily removed) mushrooms. That’s ok. I had thirds that night. They ate the hell out of the carrot soufflé though! Pure sugar, that was.
So all that delicious food, and our fall back is hotdogs and beans. Yuck.
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