I envisioned recreating my childhood family meal times to be as natural and routine as breathing. Everyone has to eat and families love each other so how hard can this be? Reality has a way of beating you down and stealing your joy. Maybe I'm the only one.
As a new mom, I found family dinner time to be exhausting and miserable.
Stay with me.
The kids complained about everything I cooked. In their defense, my cooking is not exactly gourmet quality. As they got older, they couldn’t wait to excuse themselves to go back to their iPads and TV shows. No one wanted to talk about their day or month or challenges they were facing. The hubs was usually starving and not exactly up for having intriguing conversations or leading family devotionals. Sigh.
Feeling defeated, I gave up on family dinners many years ago and used dinner time as an opportunity to connect with my husband. I became a short-order cook for the kids. “You want toast and jelly for dinner? Served!”.
The hubs and I neglected our children and reconnected and downloaded about our day over a quick meal. Less drama. Problem solved.
It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than the misery of forced family meal time where a riot might ensue at any moment. Before you judge me, keep in mind that my son’s food aversions have made me consider reaching out to a food therapist multiple times. He’s closer to a “non eater” than a picky one. At one point, his BMI was 3%. He’s not a little picky and I’m not easily defeated. Know that, my friend.
And yet, studies suggest that family dinners benefit children immensely. Parent fail. Let the guilt consume me now.
It was a documented goal of ours to have at least three family meals per week once we made the transition to rural, small town America and left the rat race behind. Just three.
After living here a year, the idea of facilitating enjoyable family dinners didn’t seem as daunting. After all, I was working from home and had a bit more time to be intentional and felt I had the stamina to withstand the inevitable grief and backlash that I would no doubt endure.
With vomit bowls at the ready (not kidding!), we cooked one meal for ALL family members and forced the kids to eat steak, spaghetti, grilled chicken, shrimp, pork tenderloin and many other horrible foods.
Aren’t we the worst parents ever? They hated it. They complained. It was miserable.
"This is the most disgusting thing ever!" and "I am NEVER eating this!" were phrases we heard constantly.
We didn’t give up.
We started out having one to two meals per week and gradually increased our together time as the drama got easier to manage. We mixed in pizza delivery and other kid-friendly favorites to ease the transition.
Several months into grief-stricken meals where we forced food down them, corrected terrible table manners and tried to have civil conversations, something happened.
Mom’s food became tolerable, our son requested steak and claimed it as his favorite, our daughter wanted to help mom cook and volunteered to set the table. Soon, home-cooked dinners became incredibly peaceful and quiet. Blissful even. But, without conflict, we had nothing to say to each other.
Now what?
A wise mom gave me the idea of having each person talk about their high point and low point of their day. Brilliant. We immediately added this component to family dinner time. Many times, our son’s “high” will be family dinner time or the meal in front of him. Bless him! My heart swells every time this happens.
Being an intentional parent is exhausting. Seemingly joyous encounters between family members -- vacation, meal time, game night -- can quickly turn into contentious, hurtful battlefields.
I now create a monthly meal plan and post it on the fridge. The kids know what we’re having and don’t complain (most days!). I no longer have a panic attack at 5:30 pm wondering what we are going to eat for dinner.
For us, the time investment was immense. The abuse we endured was painful. But, the outcome has been worth all of the sacrifice and agony.
If you are struggling to connect as a family, keep pushing through the pain. Don’t give up. Be intentional. Don’t take it personally when the kids insult your cooking, want to eat junk food and fight every time they are together. Continue to demand mutual respect and play referee, when needed, and love on them through the quarrelsome times. Most of all, don’t yell. The anxiety you evoke will only make the situation worse.
I genuinely look forward to spending time as a family now. This hasn’t always been the case and it’s difficult to admit that.
As moms, we don’t always like to talk about our failures or seek out advice as to how to facilitate better family relationships.
My prayer is that moms would find other moms to link arms with. That they would actively seek out friends to build them up and make relationships with other moms in which support and encouragement are traded constantly.
In a few weeks, our family will embark on a 17-hour road trip, one way. I'm hopeful that the work we've put into bringing our family closer together will make for a fun experience with lasting memories. If not, I have headphones for everyone.