According to numerous studies and expert opinions, family dinners are essential. Children who sit down for meals with their parents on a regular basis are said to be smarter, kinder, more competent, and even more attractive. They may even graduate from prestigious universities and lead successful careers, all while avoiding any temptations like drugs.
But for me, there’s a major hiccup: I absolutely dread family dinner.
My kids have an Early Bird schedule, meaning we gather for dinner before their dad comes home four nights a week. More often than not, it’s a complete nightmare. With two picky eaters, meal planning becomes a high-stress ordeal. Even if they’d consider anything beyond plain noodles and strawberries, I have zero passion for cooking.
The moment we sit down, I transform into a grumpy, irritable version of myself, constantly reminding them to sit straight and refrain from playing with their food. Sometimes they actually eat; other times, they smear hummus in their hair and yogurt into the cushions. Inevitably, they break into silly songs they picked up at summer camp, like their current favorite: “Moose, Alpaca, Moose, Moose, Alpaca, Evil Mr. Coconut turned into a palm tree!” (Seriously?) While I often enjoy their singing, the dinner table is not the right setting for it. Halfway through, I find myself snapping that it’s not a singing hour and retreat to wash dishes, utilizing passive-aggressive tactics that fly right over their heads.
After lamenting this to my therapist, I anticipated her to provide gentle reminders about the significance of family dinners, along with strategies for improvement. Instead, she offered me a liberating perspective: “Don’t worry about family dinner. Let it go.”
She explained that the concept of family dinner isn’t the core issue. What truly matters is establishing some form of daily ritual where we come together, focusing on one another without distractions. If a nightly meal suits your family, great! But if forcing your kids to sit still during the chaos of the evening while they reject your cooking and sing nursery rhymes just isn’t your style, don’t stress about it. Find alternative ways to connect with your children daily.
That realization was a game-changer for me. I can still read with my kids, color alongside them, listen to their chatter during our commute, and cuddle at bedtime. Even breakfast can be a bonding time, fueled by the magic of coffee.
So, I’ve decided to let go of the pressure surrounding family dinners. I still make sure my kids eat every night (without fail), and occasionally I join them. Other times, we take our plastic plates outside, where they munch on chicken nuggets while playing in the yard and chatting with neighbors. On some evenings, as I tidy up, they enjoy their meals; movement helps me remain calm. Other nights, I read to them while they eat. One week, we even delved into the entire American Girl catalog, which was far more pleasant than the usual sibling squabbling.
Now that family dinner is off my plate, I can’t predict if my children will attend an Ivy League school, but I feel a lot more assured that we’ll all celebrate their 18th birthdays together.
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Summary:
In this reflection on family dinners, Jessica Hartman shares her struggle with the pressure to maintain the ideal family mealtime. After discussing her frustrations with a therapist, she learns that the essential aspect is creating daily rituals that promote connection rather than adhering strictly to the traditional family dinner. Embracing this new mindset allows her to find joy in alternative ways to bond with her children.