Family Dinner Time
On Family Dinner Time, aka FDT.
Family Dinner Time at our house is a highly evolved ritual with many rules to follow. I herein present a sampling (by no means exhaustive) of the Crowe Rules:
Crowe Rule #68: FDT is FAMILY Dinner Time. We are ALL members of this family. Therefore we ALL sit at the table. At our own places. Not at the island or in front of the TV. We sit where we can FACE each other. And TALK (one at a time).
Crowe Rule #347: There shall be neither demonstration nor mention of digestive upset, including but not limited to throwing up, vomiting, barfing, yakking, tossing one's cookies, or other varieties as yet unmentioned.
Crowe Rule #651: There shall be no discussion of medical procedures or displays of personal anatomical knowledge or insight, such as "Look at this cool scab!" or "Wanna hear about my hernia operation?" We're eating here, people, we're eating.
Crowe Rule #252: There shall be no complaining about what mom has fixed, even if it is horrible and might make us die from even one bite. Instead, we shall all say, "Thank you, mother dear, for the sacrificial love and culinary artistry with which you prepared this lovely meal." Big gulps of your milk will help you choke it down.
And while I'm at it, I shall explain for the edification of any younger or future mothers who might read this, a few of my philosophies about training children to participate in family dinner time. These observations are based on my own experiences, of course, so your mileage may vary.
One belief I have grown into is that you, as a mom or dad, only have so much energy to fight so many battles. When your kids are very small (say, 2-3 years old), you must pick your battles very carefully. If little Johnny or wee Suzy is not listening when you say "No!" or won't obey when you say, "Come," that is a preliminary battle that deserves much more of your time and energy than the war over broccoli or the struggle to make them sit for more than 30 seconds in their own chair.
When my boys were strong-willed toddlers, we had friends with a little toddler girl who would sit at her place for dinner for a full 20 minutes. Her mom told me all about how it was "time for her to learn how to behave at the dinner table." I nodded mutely, making a mental note not to invite them over for dinner for the next 10 years. I knew that I, personally, did not have the energy at 6:00 p.m. each day to enforce dinner-time-sitting-still. I. Was. Done. For. The. Day. And besides, what energy I might be able to muster was vitally needed for the Bedtime Skirmish, a battle I fervently determined to win.
Which demonstrates my point - to me, bedtimes were a CRUCIAL thing. Dinnertime could wait. And you know? It turned out I was right. Not about bedtime being more important, necessarily - but about how it didn't do my kids any permanent damage that I waited until the oldest was about 6 before I started making them eat vegetables and stay in their seats. By that time, other habits were well established and I was not so tired all the time. So I had the energy (and the patience) to show them how civilized people behave at the dinner table.
My kids are living proof that a human being can survive from ages 1 to, oh, 6 or so, by counting ketchup as a vegetable. And today they all eat broccoli. And (mostly) follow the Crowe Rules.
Family Dinner Time at our house is a highly evolved ritual with many rules to follow. I herein present a sampling (by no means exhaustive) of the Crowe Rules:
Crowe Rule #68: FDT is FAMILY Dinner Time. We are ALL members of this family. Therefore we ALL sit at the table. At our own places. Not at the island or in front of the TV. We sit where we can FACE each other. And TALK (one at a time).
Crowe Rule #347: There shall be neither demonstration nor mention of digestive upset, including but not limited to throwing up, vomiting, barfing, yakking, tossing one's cookies, or other varieties as yet unmentioned.
Crowe Rule #651: There shall be no discussion of medical procedures or displays of personal anatomical knowledge or insight, such as "Look at this cool scab!" or "Wanna hear about my hernia operation?" We're eating here, people, we're eating.
Crowe Rule #252: There shall be no complaining about what mom has fixed, even if it is horrible and might make us die from even one bite. Instead, we shall all say, "Thank you, mother dear, for the sacrificial love and culinary artistry with which you prepared this lovely meal." Big gulps of your milk will help you choke it down.
And while I'm at it, I shall explain for the edification of any younger or future mothers who might read this, a few of my philosophies about training children to participate in family dinner time. These observations are based on my own experiences, of course, so your mileage may vary.
One belief I have grown into is that you, as a mom or dad, only have so much energy to fight so many battles. When your kids are very small (say, 2-3 years old), you must pick your battles very carefully. If little Johnny or wee Suzy is not listening when you say "No!" or won't obey when you say, "Come," that is a preliminary battle that deserves much more of your time and energy than the war over broccoli or the struggle to make them sit for more than 30 seconds in their own chair.
When my boys were strong-willed toddlers, we had friends with a little toddler girl who would sit at her place for dinner for a full 20 minutes. Her mom told me all about how it was "time for her to learn how to behave at the dinner table." I nodded mutely, making a mental note not to invite them over for dinner for the next 10 years. I knew that I, personally, did not have the energy at 6:00 p.m. each day to enforce dinner-time-sitting-still. I. Was. Done. For. The. Day. And besides, what energy I might be able to muster was vitally needed for the Bedtime Skirmish, a battle I fervently determined to win.
Which demonstrates my point - to me, bedtimes were a CRUCIAL thing. Dinnertime could wait. And you know? It turned out I was right. Not about bedtime being more important, necessarily - but about how it didn't do my kids any permanent damage that I waited until the oldest was about 6 before I started making them eat vegetables and stay in their seats. By that time, other habits were well established and I was not so tired all the time. So I had the energy (and the patience) to show them how civilized people behave at the dinner table.
My kids are living proof that a human being can survive from ages 1 to, oh, 6 or so, by counting ketchup as a vegetable. And today they all eat broccoli. And (mostly) follow the Crowe Rules.
posted by Mamabird @ 5:32 PM
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