Dinner Invitation

Maybe it's just me getting old, forgetful, nostalgic... but somehow with the beginning of the school year my mind is filled with visions of calm, cozy family dinners; smiles all around, peaceful and uplifting conversation, compliments on the delicious dinner...

There is also the realization that these lofty imaginings are unfair to my family.

So here's how it really went down earlier this week, Tuesday I think.

To my left, Baby H sits, bounces, bops around in his exersaucer where I feed him a continuous stream of Cheerios so that he remains placated enough not to notice that no one is entertaining him by being directly-in-his-face. To his left is Daughter 1 - the main culprit of being directly-in-the-baby's-face (but ah well, that is how the random drawing for seating at the dinner table came out this month.) And Daughter 2, for better or worse, is seated beside her sister. Then comes Stan at the other end of the table. The three boys are all along the other side of the table opposite their sisters.

So we sing our prayer and begin to pass the various serving bowls with both girls reminding and re-reminding us that they are able to help themselves AND pass the bowls along. Son 1 feels the need to remark, quite snidely most of the time, on every shortcoming of his little sisters - not bearing in mind his own utter lack of proper table manners. After a few sharp reprimands from Stan and me (I know, I know, we shouldn't LET it take a few reprimands because he should respond immediately - that's another one of those lofty visions of mine) Son 1 pulls it together and gives a half-hearted "sorry" - which only means he's sorry that he didn't wait until his parents were out of hearing range before antagonizing his sisters.

Once all the food has been passed Son 2, who for medical reasons has to finish a glass of water before beginning to eat dinner and for other reasons cannot have the actual food on his actual plate before that, requests that all the dinner items be passed to him. By this time we have begun our tradition of each person sharing "something good about my day." We have done our best to teach our kids to stop shoveling food into their own mouth long enough to pass a serving plate down the table. So eventually everyone has been served and now Baby H realizes that he is the only one eating Cheerios and so voices his displeasure at being left out, so I give him a small piece of cooked carrot to mash on.

About that time Daughter 2 decides that what she has to say is far more urgent and important than what everyone else is discussing; she escalates her volume level and with food in her mouth (the table manner she struggles with most) lets us all know ... something, it was difficult to understand around her mouthful of dinner. She is told to close her mouth, put her fork down, swallow, and with an empty mouth and quiet voice share her thoughts (sounds so peaceful when I write it out, I'm sure it didn't come across that way at the time.) In a fashion true to her personality, Daughter 2 slams down her fork, crosses her arms, and grunts at me in defiance. True to my form, I give a warning for her "talking back" attitude which only serves to fuel the fire of defiance.

Conversation continues and is interspersed with Daugther 1 over-reacting because the baby has spit the piece of carrot out, Son 1 wiping his greasy fingers and face on his shirt, and Baby H hollering from his post at floor level where he can see little of the action. Soon Daughter 2 finishes her mouthful of food and is asked to repeat what she wanted to share - more defiance as she now refuses to speak at all.

It's at this point that Son 3 jumps in and analyzes the situation, "When you are supposed to be quiet you want to talk and now that Mommy is telling you to talk you will only be quiet." A clear and concise assessment, but not one that is likely to pull his sister from her defiant funk.

At some point plates are empty and the table is cleared, wiped, and dust-busted under. Stan and I clean up the dinner dishes and the kitchen and the kids go their ways to play, do homework, or practice violin; someone entertains Baby H in the livingroom and it's a pleasant, peaceful evening. Just like I imagined.