I Hate Dinnertime!!!

"I HATE dinnertime." my old neighbor once confessed to me. I was somewhat shocked. Not because she hated it, I was pretty frustrated with my kids at dinner too sometimes, but I was shocked because she confessed it. It doesn't look good to admit to hating time with your kids. So when she said that I commiserated appropriately but I filed it away as something I would never do.
I lied.
I HATE DINNER TIME!!!!!

Right now, I hate it. Lately, I don't know if it's because it's summer time and we have seemingly chucked all rules and parental authority out the window along with the expectation that the boys should actually put shorts on and not hang out in their skivvies all day....
or if it's because our boys are 9, 7 and 3 now and have figured out that they actually outnumber us and seamlessly pull their stunts around the table so as to distract us from how much food is actually getting consumed versus smushed around on their plate.

What ever their scheming drunken troll minds have cooked up, I have had it. I am ready to either eat in silent protest, away from them, out side or upstairs, or quit altogether, point to the fridge and say there's the food and go out for dinner by myself. I am quite tempted by the last one, but I would probably have to get a job to pay for the dinners, and another job is the last thing I need.

So after asking Bronson to get his foot off the table, Bodee to actually move his jaw and chew the food inside his motionless chipmunk cheeked mouthful of food, Ben to stop putting his napkin on his face and eat...and then asking Bronson to eat, and Bodee to eat and then asked Bodee to pick up the food he dropped and Bodee to stop swinging his head back and forth to try to see what an earthquake feels like and then ask Ben to stop poking at Bronson's food, and Bodee to stop complaining about his food touching, and Bronson to use his fork not his fingers....

I got present to what was really there for me, ,and I say to them, "I don't enjoy eating dinner with you."There is a silence and stillness.
"And I feel really, really, sad. Because I want to be with you, you are my family and I love you, but when we sit down for dinner and you kids don't eat, you just play and complain about your food, I get upset and sad. And then I don't want to be with you. What should we do about this?"
"Should I quit? " I asked
"Should I eat outside by myself?"

Ben thought about it."If you and Dad have to ask us more than 3 times then we get a spanking."
I got even more upset."So... then I am in the middle of eating and I have to stop and hit my child???"
"Ohhhhh.." Ben's face fell.
Todd sensed the misplaced upset and tried to calm me, "He's just trying to problem solve, Zen."
"Okay" I took a breath, of course.
"That person could eat outside..." one of the boys offered, "by themselves".
"Yeah that person could eat outside by themselves and stay outside all night if they don't eat and sleep on the rug," another suggested.
This brought Bronson to tears. He hates sleeping alone. I could sense his stomach clamping up as big droopy tears rolled down his cheeks as he put food in his mouth in slow motion. I silently prophesied a stomach ache later. Ben looked really sad. Bodee even looked concerned.

"I have another idea!" I said almost excitedly, (I was too damn tired to muster up being really inspired.) "How about you kids just eat?"
They looked at me like it was an actual new idea.
They got it.
"Listen if we go to the swimming pool, what do you do in it?"
"Swim." said Ben simply.
"Yeah. Do you do your homework in the pool?"
"Noooo."
"You swim in the pool. The pool is for swimming. That's what you do there. Dinner time is time to eat dinner. Not play, not do oragami, not argue or complain. Just eat."
They looked at me like I had just deciphered the code to Bible.
But we'll see if they have seen the light tomorrow night.

I don't have a breakthrough to share tonight folks. This is it. I still hate dinner time, but I feel better after sharing this. I know someone out there, maybe my old neighbor, maybe you, has some nugget of an idea that I can use and turn into inspiration. I am counting on you this time. Help me out.
What do you do to either get through dinner without killing off your young...or if you actually love dinner time, please share your secret with me. I might pay you millions.

Zen Honeycutt

Cut it out! Knock it off! Stop it!

" Cut it out! Knock it off! Stop it!"
My husband half chuckles. He "knows" he should be telling him to stop, but he's so cute he laughs. Bodee is near naked, besides his Spiderman underwear at the breakfast table, and he is standing on the chair doing a spontaneous dance.....then he turns and points his butt at us and waggles it with glee.
Todd's command is ineffective and it is not until he almost tips the chair over that Bodee stops himself, sits down and eats his eggs.

What comes to mind is the perfectly behaved Chinese kids I often see at the huge round tables at restaurants, silently and politely having dim sum with their families. Meanwhile, my kids are laughing, tickling each other under the table,and dangling their noodles in front of their faces before slurping them up with relish. The little voice in my head says...I am half Chinese...what happened with my kids?

"That's what's wrong with America," some may say...."Parent's are not disciplining their children. They let them run wild and act all crazy at the dinner tables, let 'em get away with anything and then before you know it they are getting locked up."

Yeah, yeah, judge as you will. Tonight we are laughing at the dinner table. We enjoy our children's songs and creative play with their food as long as they are eating. We all hold hands and look each other in the eyes as one of the boys leads our prayer, and then we say in unison " God is great, God is good, and we Thank you for our food, AMEN-ies!" Sometime the baby claps after we pray.

It's a moment of unity, gratitude and grounding.
I don't care if Bodee is not dressed tonight. I don't care if he is dancing once in a while. The family meals are a time to connect, and let's face it, a 5 year old communication skills consist predominately of imaginative play. They are still working out what a conversation is. Mostly his play with friends comprises sounds of battle ships shooting,light sabers swooshing and high pitched cartoon characters saying " Oh Noooo! he's gonna get me"...and then a deep voice booms "I'll save you!"
So for him to tell a story, do a dance, eat his french fries like airplanes and waggle his butt now and then ...well, it's an example to me of freedom and fun as a family.

The real kicker is in not comparing my kids to other kids. I find that it's automatic...and if I am not careful I can make it mean something..my kid dances half naked at the table at home, and out, their kids are quiet, our kids are hiding under the table cloth, shrieking, and I think one just ate a fried noodle off the floor....I could make that mean that I am a lenient, lazy Mom and they are hoodlums. I could. And I would have some pretty good evidence according to some.

Or I could chose a more empowering context, an empowering perspective, if you will. I could choose to see that we are living life, our kids are free to dance, to waggle, to giggle. They are fully self expressed and create laughter, love and fun.

Manners are good too, and for the really important times and places we empower them with those tools...but getting caught up in what they are doing means something about us as parents...is a no win situation.
They are kids.We are parents. For the most part, if they are having fun, so are we.
And if we are having fun, so can they.


Zen Honeycutt
www.zenspurplegarden.com