A subject that greater minds and bigger hearts than mine have explored and pondered for many years. Indeed, it's a fixation of modern shelter magazines and cable shows; how to cook and create a wonderland of fantasy meals.
I'm not gonna attempt to lay down new paths or thoughts; that's above my pay grade.
This post is my ongoing consideration of dinner, supper, and what it means to the family, especially one built through the often messy process of adoption.
In fact, I have come to believe that the seemingly simple concept of dinner is really, for us at least, a turn key in attachment.
Yep, this is another one of those posts. I have a series of them, sporadically put up as I need to process things or I start stewing about stuff {go here:trust, touch, transitions, schedules, Christmas, prayer}.
I think that the whole idea of family dinner is one that is super easy to brush off. We've heard it all before, from our own parents to the modern beta parents on tv: Oprah, Dr. Phil, Dr. Spock, Judge Judy...heck, everybody's got an opinion. But this forum is mine and thus this blog post is about my meandering musings down the dinner table.
Now, I'd love to say that our family has beautiful Rockwell quality dinners. That we all sit down in a calm and mannered fashion to an elegant and/or chic table every night and linger easily over interesting and savory local, foodie creative meals that nourish our bodies and souls. Right. But if I did, I'd be lying.
 |
| Ramare Bearden, Color Screenprint, 1993 |
 |
| Jean Foss, "Family Dinner" |
Often enough one or three kids will thank me for the cooking, signaling the end of the meal; a truly lovely and appreciated gesture (always Marta, sweet habit) and then bolt to the beyond of upstairs to escape the ensuing chaos that erupts after dinner. Then the dishes are clattered to the counters and sinks, reminders of dish night assignments handed out, and the dinner comes to a close as I try to scoot/race the little boys up to the bedtime routine.
Thus we have three phases to our dinners: preparation, partaking, and cleanup. All of them are key to our family dinner and to the foundation that is laid. It is the whole of the process that makes the family dinner so important, and yes, a turn-key to adjustment.
I want to say that again: I think the whole of the process: the prep, the sitting/eating, and the aftermath, is important to the bonding and attachment found in the family dinner.
The importance of this meal, it's function as a key for us, is coming more and more clear to me; especially over these past few months of our adjustment to our newest daughter Marta. She has a need for a very defined order to her days, she counts on it, it is her safety zone. And the dinner routine, as close to 'no matter what' we can get, is key to her sense of well being, and thus, attachment.
I daresay it is the same for our other children, young and old, bio or adopted.
Family dinner counts.
The time to prepare it shows our newest daughter, without words, that this time is important to us as family. She sees me, as do all my kids, thinking about it in advance, shopping, preparing it, prepping the table for it. If it wasn't important I wouldn't bother. They all know it.
If I can get it together during the day, I try to have the table set and dinner planned and begun to prep as she/they arrive home from school....yes, it's very Donna Reed, but it's very very comforting and secure. All of my kids, each and every one, ask me, every day within minutes of seeing me after school: "What's for dinner?" Each one of them need that answer, sometimes I say "I don't know!" But, if I name a meal, it's an almost visible sigh out of them to hear the answer - even if it's not their favorite. Because it signifies that I am on it and life is secure. Now, they won't say it that way, but I see it that way now...because of my newest daughter. Her life was not secure and dinner wasn't a guarantee or even always an option. So, yeah, this is important stuff...for all of them, but absolutely critical for her.
It is a turnkey on so many levels: food, primal sustenance, comfort, family, routine.
 |
| Peter Blume, Vegetable Dinner, 1927 |
But beyond that obligation and duty lies great unspoken meaning: family, it's important and this is ours.
And happily enough, that meaning is not reliant on the context of perfection or glossy fantasies of "should be" or "looks like."
I will go out on a cyber limb and even say that the very chaotic mess of our dinners, and it's own particular kind of standard chaos, defines our own family culture and is a feature of this key to attaching into our family.
The cleanup, well, its not nearly the pretty part. Not that any part of our dinners every really are so much...but cleanup is a mess and a job. But by having the kids all take part (they rotate dish duty) and their dad usually giving them a boost of help...they learn that they too are contributors to the family. They don't only take...they too give to each other and the family. Giving back is part of the key to attachment. Unless you are invested in something or someone, by serving them in some form (time, attention, effort), it's very hard to have a two way attachment. Now, that's just my opinion...but I hold it close. I think you love by doing. I think the best way to help a child learn that they are an integral part of the family is to have them pitch in and help that family, just the same as the other kids (or to their ability).
So, who'da thunk it?
Family dinner, be it vichyssoise or burgers, means ever so much more than the calorie count. And really, it's not even about the actual food or the quality of it; be it fancy french or sub sandwiches.
It's about the whole process of the dinner, as a family.
I think it's one of the better keys in your tool belt as a parent.
I think that so much of what we do, we feel we have to follow the perfect script or recipe or rules or recommendations. But the beauty in the messy chaos and routine of the family dinner is that it allows for our unique seasonings and tweaks and settings. It is our own.
It is in the very making and prepping and sitting and tastings of it, we find our own selves and each other.
This is a turn key to attachment for each of us, adopted or not, for healing and blending together as a family. It is a key that is not a hard metal bit to be clanged about...rather this one is as a red ripe tomato, bursting with goodness, begging to be savored.
 |
| Jos van Riswick, Tomato 15x15 |
