Updated: Sep. 8, 2014
Originally Published: Sep. 7, 2011
It’s amazing how quickly the truth can surface. I had a real moment the other day. My two daughters and I were at my parents’ house for dinner after a long drive from Austin. It was a challenging trip, to say the least.
We left Austin just before lunchtime, and of course, we had to make a stop. After lunch, both girls fell asleep, which was my plan, but then I found myself dozing off too. The coffee stop woke them up for good. After that, it was a whirlwind of music disputes, playful hitting, and their attempts to annoy each other—all of which were significantly more bothersome than actual hitting. Then, of course, we hit unexpected traffic, accompanied by endless complaints of boredom and requests to use the restroom in less-than-ideal locations.
I ended up parking at a rather suspicious-looking Subway, got out, and attempted to open the back door for my girls. It was locked. Frustrated, I exclaimed, “I can’t stand this car!” Now, before you judge me, let me clarify: some engineer decided that the doors should lock automatically when you start driving, presumably for safety against carjacking. But I don’t live in a high-crime area; I’m in Austin. Honestly, if I were in a place with frequent carjackings, I’d probably move! Plus, I open the car door for my girls every day. Thanks a lot, Mr. Engineer, for making my life harder!
Back at the dinner table, just as we were about to eat, my five-year-old, Lily, piped up, “Mommy, Mommy, this is where the special part happens!” My seven-year-old, Emma, chimed in, “Mommy, we’re about to say a praaayyyyeeer!” It’s amusing that they think I’m unaware of the prayer tradition, considering I spent the first nineteen years of my life under the same roof as my parents. However, my girls don’t really know that side of my upbringing. My husband and I now follow a different path as Unitarian Universalists.
Lily then told Grandma, “We don’t say prayers at home!” My mom replied, “That’s okay. We like to say a prayer before meals at our house.” I added, “It’s important to be thankful for our food. A lot of effort goes into bringing this meal to our table.” We all joined in a brief prayer, and then I encouraged Lily to share our family tradition at dinner.
Lily explained how we play Good Thing, Bad Thing at our table. Each person shares one good thing and one bad thing from their day. Listening is the key, she emphasized, and then she decided it was Emma’s turn.
Emma started, “Well, my bad thing is that during the drive, Mommy was REALLY grumpy.” I shot her a glance. She wasn’t being mean; she was simply stating facts. She continued, “Mommy yelled sometimes and used bad words…” I glanced at my parents, who were chuckling.
Emma went on, mentioning how stressed I had been at work, how I yelled at the car, and how I got upset because they were bored. As she spoke, I couldn’t help but laugh along with my parents. My dad quipped, “I’m learning a lot from this tradition!”
We continued sharing Good Thing and Bad Thing, each person taking a turn, listening and engaging with one another. I cherish this dinner tradition.
After dinner, I took a moment to talk to my girls. I told them two things: 1) They’re old enough to manage a three-hour drive without being overly needy, especially with all the books, toys, music, and movies we have. 2) I apologized for not handling the situation better.
Well, I was sorry, but I still can’t stand those darn locks!
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In summary, the journey of parenting is filled with ups and downs, often leading to humorous moments that bring families closer. Sharing experiences at the dinner table fosters communication and understanding, even when the truth can be a little tough to swallow.