When my son came to me five years ago, he'd spent a number of years floating around in foster homes and children's homes (think orphanage, but with better regulations). He had not experienced family in the sense that I had (I refrain from judging anyone's definition of family here, note that I highlight my experience only). He was (and sometimes continues to) struggled with Reactive Attachment Disorder and attachment issues in general. I mean, that makes sense when you're 11 and haven't been in a home setting for long enough to really get attached, right?
So when he first came to me, we sat down and had dinner together. I don't recall what it was, but it was electronics free, sitting at the table, food on plates, drinks at table, having to sit across the table and be with one another from start to finish. There was no getting up when one of us was done unless we were both done. There was no just hopping up and running to the electronics. We sat. In complete silence many nights. But we sat and broke bread together. And it was awkward. Then, the next morning we did it again over breakfast. And it was really awkward. Then that night, we did it again and it was a little less awkward.
And now, we break bread together, sitting at the dining room table, electronics free 95% of our dinners and 90% of our breakfasts (he's a teen now, and so sometimes sleeps in on the weekends. I'm a quintessential morning person so I am up and ready to eat hours before he is ...teens, go figure!) It has become the cornerstone of our family definition. Not so much eating, because sometimes it's just a hamburger and tater tots, but the time together. We devote that time each morning and each evening to being present with one another. It has taught respect for one another--neither of us begin eating nor get up from the table until we're both sitting at the table and then both done. We take turns setting and clearing. We converse. We learn that even when we're mad, angry and upset with one another we always have a place at the table and it's ok to not talk and we're STILL breaking bread together...like a family, in the sense that I have experienced and wish for my son to as well.
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| For the record, our table does not look like this. We often have mounds of junk mail piled up where we don't eat. |
So this week, as you are meal planning, consider including a family meal. Where you sit down together, and remain fully present to one another the entire meal. Electronics free (unless that's a device you use to communicate with one another due to various barriers to verbal communication). It may be awkward at first, and that's ok. You may get the stank eye from your children, and that's ok. It may take some training on your and your family's part, but that's ok too. Everyone sits down and waits until everyone is present to begin eating. Everyone remains seated until everyone is done. Everyone pitches in to set or clear the table. You know, like a family.
Or, at least, that's my 26.2 hungry cents worth!
Donald, lover of breaking bread together!
PS: There were MANY meals where we just looked at one another with disdain, meals which I was sure the plate would go flying across the table at my head, meals where harsh words were spoken, meals where tears were shed, meals where relationships were discussed, meals where cusswords were thrown, meals where laughter was had, meals where we ended up ordering take out (not all meals work out as the recipe indicates), meals where it all happens. We have experienced all the feels, emotions, highs and lows around the dining room table. It is our anchor.
