The Writing Mamas Daily Blog
Each day on the Writing Mamas Daily Blog, a different member will write about mothering.If you're a mom then you've said these words, you've made these observations and you've lived these situations - 24/7.
And for that, you are a goddess.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Family Dinner
We were eating dinner at a casual restaurant when a family of four settled in at the table next to us. I noticed the mother whip out what I thought was a laptop. Then I realized it was actually a portable DVD player. She quickly set it up for her young daughter sitting next to her. Across the table, her husband did the same thing with an identical DVD player for daughter number two.
Seconds later, each girl plopped on headphones, pressed “play” and stared glaze-eyed at her screen. While the sisters ignored each other and their parents, mom and dad sipped wine and discussed their remodel.
I turned to my own five-year-old. She gleefully ignored my request—as she had for most of the evening—to please use her fork to eat her spaghetti. Tilting her sauce-smeared face back as far as it would go, she dangled a fist full of worm-like strands high above her wide-open mouth before cramming them all in. A puddle of water from the ice cubes she’d dropped while scooping them out of her glass faster than I could put them back in surrounded her plate. A cupful of spilled crayons, along with several now soggy pieces of artwork, littered the table.
For a moment, I felt a twinge of envy for the peaceful scene next to us. But how sad is it, I then thought, if this is what dining out as a family is coming to—parents finding the perfect way to tune out their kids and avoid interacting with them at all costs.
I admit it—I’m often guilty of allowing my daughter to zone out in front of the TV for the afternoon line-up of kids’ shows on KQED so I can catch up on chores or simply avoid going insane. And like many families these days, ours doesn’t eat dinner together on a nightly basis.
Which is why I look forward to our weekly excursions to restaurants. As usual, there were bad manners, messes and interruptions to contend with last night. In between, though, there were tales from my daughter about the shark tooth she’d found on her field trip to the beach that day, the chance for her to bond with her dad as they colored together, and plenty of laughter. I’d call it a healthy family dinner.
By Dorothy O’Donnell
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Seconds later, each girl plopped on headphones, pressed “play” and stared glaze-eyed at her screen. While the sisters ignored each other and their parents, mom and dad sipped wine and discussed their remodel.
I turned to my own five-year-old. She gleefully ignored my request—as she had for most of the evening—to please use her fork to eat her spaghetti. Tilting her sauce-smeared face back as far as it would go, she dangled a fist full of worm-like strands high above her wide-open mouth before cramming them all in. A puddle of water from the ice cubes she’d dropped while scooping them out of her glass faster than I could put them back in surrounded her plate. A cupful of spilled crayons, along with several now soggy pieces of artwork, littered the table.
For a moment, I felt a twinge of envy for the peaceful scene next to us. But how sad is it, I then thought, if this is what dining out as a family is coming to—parents finding the perfect way to tune out their kids and avoid interacting with them at all costs.
I admit it—I’m often guilty of allowing my daughter to zone out in front of the TV for the afternoon line-up of kids’ shows on KQED so I can catch up on chores or simply avoid going insane. And like many families these days, ours doesn’t eat dinner together on a nightly basis.
Which is why I look forward to our weekly excursions to restaurants. As usual, there were bad manners, messes and interruptions to contend with last night. In between, though, there were tales from my daughter about the shark tooth she’d found on her field trip to the beach that day, the chance for her to bond with her dad as they colored together, and plenty of laughter. I’d call it a healthy family dinner.
By Dorothy O’Donnell
Labels: Dorothy O'Donnell
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