We're Quitting Dinner

The dinner table has always been the Ladd family's home base. Seven nights a week, the table is set and placemats are spread. We share our highs and lows, and linger when time allows to chat about the day. 

I love to feed people - especially my people. I plan and prepare. I relish in serving creative, healthy meals. That’s why this announcement makes me feel like my own tectonic plates are shifting:

We are taking a break from dinner. 

Yes, that’s right. Family dinners are temporarily canceled in the Ladd house.

It’s against the rules of every parenting book and social media posts. Our dinner table is our website logo, for goodness sake! 

It’s just not working at our house right now. 

We have a teenager with sports and homework that add great value to his life, a dad who often tries to squeeze in exercise before evening meetings, and a toddler who throws stuff. When we do pull off a family dinner, everybody leaves grumpy. Nobody knows what the food that I put so much time into tasted like because we were dodging Benjamin’s. It's a cardio workout for me, and it's  not worth the nighttime cleaning. 

We’ve had a beautiful flow at dinnertime for years. But it broke. We (I) have tried to force it back to beautiful for months. That only led to more things feeling like they weren’t working. I was more tired and felt more overwhelmed. Everyone felt pressed for time and rest. 

When something stops working, do it differently. 

Think about what the important part is, and cultivate that.

The reason we love family dinner is because it WAS a no-stress way to connect with each other at the end of the day. It gave us a place we were proud to invite people into. We are preserving that value by choosing to do something that works for us rather than doing what “they” say we should be doing. 

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Right after Benjamin’s dinnertime, he comes alive with and has a surplus of energy to burn. We set him free in the yard with just a diaper and shoes on. He runs and runs and runs. He kicks the ball and belly laughs. I deemed it "The Night Run" one evening while he ran laps around our house scream-laughing.

Benjamin learns how to be a part of a family during The Night Run. That is more important than table manners in this stage of the game. Instead of being buckled into a setting he’s too tired for, he gets to learn how to stop the soccer ball with his foot when his dad kicks it to him. He get to hear the rhythms of his family chatting about the day without any chores or flying meatballs in front of them. 

Lifa shooting hoops and Benjamin kicking the ball is currently the optimal way to connect with our boys together. Lifa chatters about the day with astounding patience for the wild child lapping his knee caps. Benjamin blissfully kicks a ball back and forth with his dad. I just sit down (🙌) and enjoy the view. 

And don’t worry. Everybody eats. Sometimes together. Sometimes not. Lifa eats 93 meals a day anyway. Eating and connecting used to go together in the evening. Right now in our home, they don’t. And that’s ok. 

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