Spectacularly crappy evening

I had a rough day at work and looked forward to swimming tonight, except I got stuck in a stupid, senseless traffic jam right near the exit to our street and ended up getting at the gym too late for free swim. Also, I lost an earring (but found it later). Also am behind on the magazine I edit because of a work situation that occupied all my time today.

So I was in a crummy mood when I got home but kept my temper under control enough to appreciate Rachel singing, "Hi, Mommy!" in that cheerful voice of hers, and "thank you for making this soup, Mommy!" and quietly answered Drew's questions about my day. Both of us kept trying to get Rachel to eat more soup and meat (I had made beef barley soup with short ribs, one of our winter favorites and one that Rachel usually eats) but she whined and crawled under the table and cried about not wanting to eat dinner.

And then out of nowhere, it seemed, Drew got totally frustrated at Rachel refusing to eat vegetables. We have been after her to try some, using all the tired old parenting tactics -- You Won't Grow Big and Strong If You Don't Eat Your Vegetables (she doesn't believe us and, frankly, the evidence is in her favor because she's growing like a weed), You Can't Have Any Dessert If You Don't Eat Your Vegetables (she doesn't care) and All Your Friends Eat Their Vegetables, So You Should, Too (ditto).

So Drew announced that henceforth she wouldn't get a snack on the way home from preschool (she usually munches on granola because she's starving by the time we pick her up). And that she'd have to start eating vegetables. I tried to feed her some cucumbers and carrots from the soup, and she started gagging, and Drew got so upset that he swept her up in his arms and ordered her to stay in her room.

She sobbed for a while and then came out and said, snurfling (she has a bad cold), "I'm reading to eat my vegetables." More gagging on cucumbers and carrots, which made Drew even more angry. I told her quietly that she couldn't do this anymore, that she had to start eating her vegetables. I took her on my lap and she cried, "I'll tell my children that too," which almost made me laugh but I was careful to stay very serious.

She asked me to put her to sleep, even after I asked if she really wanted me to or if she was just mad at Daddy. "Daddy ALWAYS puts me to sleep," she said sadly, so I took her to her room and we rocked for a while in the glider, me encouraging her to take deep breaths to calm her crying. "Why are you crying?" I asked. "Because I'm afraid you won't love me!" she said, and I had to reassure her AGAIN that that's not true -- I'll always love her but she needs to listen to what Mommy and Daddy say.

I read her one book, we went quietly into the bathroom to wash and brush, then she put on a pair of pajamas and asked me to cuddle with her in bed. I told her that I had to go back into the kitchen to finish dinner. She was sad but seemed to understand.

When I got back into the kitchen Drew had already cleaned up and was ready to head to the gym. "I am TIRED of fighting over food," he said angrily. I can't blame him, really -- I didn't realize it had built up into such frustration. Have I been lax as a parent by not insisting that Rachel eat vegetables? One of the things I decided long ago was never to fight my kid over food; we live in America and I don't allow her to eat junk, so she won't starve. I figured that she'd come around to the idea of eating vegetables soon enough and that she'd get what she needed from other good food. Or will it take putting out a plate of carrots and cucumbers and peas, night after night after bloody night, and not offering her anything she loves, like challah or chicken or pasta, before she gets the message that we won't tolerate her not eating vegetables? And then grows up to hate them as a result?

To much to think of right now. I'm hoping, for her sake, that she listens to Drew when he serves her vegetables tomorrow night while I'm in class.