We barely finished saying grace when David, my fifth grader, burst out, “Well, aren’t you going to ask us what we did at school today?” He went on to excitedly tell us about the science experiment they did. It had something to do with atoms. I barely passed ninth grade chemistry and didn’t understand two-thirds of it. But I smiled, nodded and asked questions in the right places.
We gather together as a family of four around our dinner table as often as possible. It’s not every night. My husband’s work schedule interferes often, but we average about four meals together a week, including weekends.
For as long as our boys have been in school, I’ve asked the what-did-you-do-at-school question during our meals. Many times it elicits blank stares, groans and responses of, “I don’t know.” “I don’t remember.” “Nothing.”
But I’m relentless. I keep going with the questions until I get an answer. “Did you do anything fun?” “Did you learn anything new?” “What did you do in gym?” “Who did you play with at recess?” If I still can’t get a response, I pull out my last resort question. “What was the most boring thing you did today?” I don’t like to focus on the negative, but they can almost always come up with something they didn’t like about the school day.
Last week when David couldn’t wait for me to ask, he showed his cards. He actually likes when we ask about his day, even if he’ll never admit it in so many words.
Wade, my first grader, is naturally more talkative than his older brother. Most days it’s easier to get answers from him. What he’s learned from the talks around our table is how to start a conversation and show interest in others. He asks his dad and I questions about our day now and listens and responds genuinely to our answers. Lately his favorite questions are, “Mom, how was the gym? Did you workout today? Is your tummy smaller? It looks smaller, like half an inch.” He also has a future as a personal trainer.
Dinner gives our children a chance to talk with one another as well. Often the boys encourage each other or laugh at inside jokes only the camaraderie of brotherhood affords. Sometimes the oldest gives the youngest advice. Most of the time it’s sound. If it isn’t, we’re in earshot to correct it.
The world pulls us in different directions every day. Sometimes it feels like life conspires to keep us apart. We go off to work, school and activities without each other. We come home, and we go to our separate corners to read, do homework and watch TV. Individual experiences that beget independence are vital for helping children mature into healthy adults. But so is a sense of belonging to people who care about what you did while you were gone.
Most evenings our dinner conversation is lighthearted, but sometimes it takes a serious path. It becomes more than just finding out what our kids had for lunch. As parents, we have an opportunity to help them process and find meaning in their experiences. We’re able to impart morals, values, and as Christians, help frame their experiences in a Biblical light.
Once, a teacher advised my son not associate with a classmate who she felt was not, “on the same level.” We determined that my son had not gotten in trouble by hanging out with the kid on the playground. The kid was not mean to my son. He did have a different background and family lifestyle, but that wasn’t a reason to be unkind. My son already knew the right thing to do. We affirmed he should continue to be friendly to the boy despite the teacher’s advice. Most of the time I support my children’s teachers, but that was not something I could stand behind. This was all worked out over sloppy joes on a Tuesday night.
Trying to broach heady topics at the dinner table can lead to disaster if approached the wrong way. We don’t lecture the kids about cleaning their rooms or getting good grades while they eat hamburgers. When it comes to serious table talk, we let the boys lead. If it’s something they bring up, OK. Other wise we leave the tough stuff for after dinner and a more private venue. We don’t want mealtime to turn into something they dread. Crying isn’t good for the appetite.
Maybe four dinners a week with the whole family just isn’t realistic for you because of schedules. Maybe you can do more than four nights a week. Maybe family dinners mean only one parent is at the table or some of the siblings. Maybe it’s a homemade, hot casserole and maybe it’s takeout pizza. Maybe it means eating earlier or later or limiting weeknight activities. I do know you have to plan for it, prioritize it and still leave room for flexibility, or it won’t happen at all. When it does happen regularly, you’ll see why it’s worth it.
The world is short on comfort these days, but it can be found sitting down at the end of a long day to eat with people who don’t care if you slurp your spaghetti. They’ve seen you at your worst and love you anyway, because they believe in your best.
Don’t just take my word for it. Here’s what researchers say are benefits of family meals:
- Family dinner conversations boost vocabulary in young children. The learn five times as many “rare” words at the table compared to watching TV and listening to books.
- Adolescents and teens who regularly eat meals together with their family perform better on achievement tests and earn higher grades.
- Children who eat dinner with their families eat healthier, more nutrient rich foods at meals.
- Teenagers who eat dinner with their family are less likely to engage in risky behaviors and have over all better metal health, including less anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts and a more positive outlook.
Next tiem, ideas for making family mealtime happen when life is busy.