Life's eternal question ...

is what in the hell am I going to make for dinner?

This little tidbit of my life drives me insane. Seriously. Crazy.

I love to cook. I really do. In fact, I love cooking for large groups. It's just fun. But here's the catch - it's fun when someone else has my kids. It's very difficult to get things going all together on time with nothing burning when you have kids climbing up your leg saying, "Can I see, Mom? Mom, what's salmon? Mom, if we eat fish, are we going to eat our pet Nemo? WHY will a hot oven burn me? Can I taste that? How do you know that I won't like Rice Wine Vinegar straight from the bottle? What does C-A-Y-E-N-N-E spell and does it taste good?"

But even that is tolerable enough, I guess.

Everyday, however, I start looking through the pantry, fridge, deep freeze and curse the complicated dining habits of my family. Me, I'll eat damned near anything (white condiments excluded.) I used to be a lot pickier, but I think after you've eaten your 6 millionth half chewed soggy Cheerio that your toddler just MUST share with you, the temperature of your dinner is less than important. AH, I digress. My family, mostly the 3 Y chromosomes, make meal time something like a complicated Olympic worthy twisting, back flipping, high dive into a pool of Dammit, can we honestly be out of cheese AGAIN????

I'm partly to blame. My first child was such a picky eater, mostly because I was such a neurotic mother. Meal time was always a challenge with him and, as a result, the favorite phrase of this 5 year old is, "I don't like _______" (fill in the blank.) "I don't like N-E-W foods, Mom. I like regular foods" is a close second. Have I mentioned his obsession with spelling out words? Eh, another post.

My second child used to be such a delight at dinner time. He would eat anything and everything that wasn't nailed down. He never frowned or wriggled his nose. He ate everything. EVERYTHING and, as a result, has a very mature palate. He also has, however, a "My brother is GOD" complex going on, so if Brother isn't excited about eating it, neither is he. Guess which wins? Palate? Brother? Come sit down with us and see for yourselves.

Up until a couple of months ago, my husband worked much later than the boys needed to eat dinner. Their little tummies just couldn't wait until 7:30 to eat. So I made 2 meals. One for the boys and one for me and my husband. Of course, I wasn't going to make some big meal for the kids because they wouldn't eat it anyhow. So they got kid food (mac & cheese, chicken nuggets, grilled cheese, PB&J, you know.)

I ALREADY ADMITTED THAT OUR DINNER TIME PROBLEMS ARE PARTLY MY FAULT - GET OFF MY BACK.

But, now he comes home early enough to eat together and we have dinner, at the table, together. EVERY NIGHT. This has proven to be totally entertaining and great experience (look for the "I will destroy you" post coming soon.) But WHAT we eat there has not gotten any easier.

And then there is my husband who is semi-vegetarian (dietary, not ethical, reasons.) He will eat seafood, on occasion. I have even seen him sneak a piece of chicken here and there (although he denies it to no end and usually ends up getting sick afterwards.) So. That leaves us pretty much eating vegetarian meals mostly. Also not a problem, really. I mean, honestly, there's so many amazing recipes out there that it can almost make eating animal products obsolete (I said ALMOST. What? Do I have a saddle on my ass? No? Then stop riding it, thank you!)

But it DOES get repetitive, this vegetarian meal thing. I, myself, could eat pasta every meal of every day for the rest of my life (have I mentioned that I used to be overweight??? hmmm,) but I don't really feel good presenting my family with pasta every night as a meal. Same goes for rice and beans, mexican, etc.

Finding something that my husband can eat, my children will eat, that we can afford to make, that we haven't had a million times this week, and that frankly, I have any desire to consume after cooking it is kind of like finding a Republican at a gathering of The Rainbow Family of Living Light.

I was so smart this month. I sat down with my cookbooks, my check book, and my calendar. I wrote down a meal for every day of the month. Yep, just look at the calendar and say, "Ah ha! July 26. Fettucinni Alfredo with poached Salmon and tossed salad." BUT, what has actually happened is that we had that on July 22 instead of the Veggie Pot Pie because, frankly, "I don't LIKE pot pie, Mom." SO, he still doesn't like Pot Pie and we've already eaten the goods to make Fett Alf Sal and well, we had beans and rice last night and "ravioli just doesn't sound good tonight, Baby."

See where I'm going with this?

I have now spent close to 20 minutes writing this and intermittantly searching my recipe files and then running up to the pantry to see what's there. I'm telling you, multi-tasking is something I cannot escape.

BUT WHAT THE HELL AM I GOING TO MAKE FOR DINNER???

I tell you what! I think I know what I'm going to do for dinner. I'm going to make a pizza delivery dude's night. I'm gonna tip him well when he delivers my evening of peace and non-cooking.

"But, MO-OM, I don't like pizza."

Well, shit.