I had a busy day Saturday with running from one thing to another, including an absolutely essential, non-negotiable trip to my favorite quilt shop, which was having a one-day sale (more on that tomorrow, I hope).
Heat and those sharp white clouds thrown into relief against a crystalline blue sky -- that can't mean anything other than thunder at some point -- gave way to a beautiful double rainbow. And all the while, Rosie had been making dinner!
Long, long ago, before the you-know-whats, we, you and I, were talking about eating dinner together. If I had only three things I could tell you about keeping your family together, I would say make Sunday a day of rest, eat dinner together, and, well, a third thing that I can't go into right now.
These are the posts, in case you forgot:
1. Destruction-proofing your family.
2. When they are little.
3. Three things you need to survive dinner.
4. Seven strategies for dinner with the barbarians.
And then dear Jill, who is more my age and has an even more numerous family (although not quite as old as mine because I started rather early), asked what to do when everyone is coming and going -- when the children are quite a bit older and have their own ideas about things, not to mention activities and commitments elsewhere. What do you do when some of your kids don't live with you now and come home for a bit? What about when they dash out again to visit friends?
So my "quieting down" in the post title refers in part to how things feel at this moment -- it's really quiet now! -- and my rainbow/day-off-cooking evening.
But it's also about when life quiets down, which, of course, it never does. There aren't children hollering at the table (until the grandchildren arrive and may or may not be hollerers -- Pippo! *ahem*). That's true. But, open yourself to a larger family and chances are, if biology cooperates, you will feel like you live inside a giant pinball machine most days. Quiet turns out not to be that quiet!
There are the years of baseball and dance-outs and shows and places you have to get to. Meetings. Your children's friends eat over; your kids head out to eat supper with others. Eventually kids grab the keys and head out; before you know it they are gone for months at a time at school and then, just... gone!
For so long you worked hard at the family dinner, and now you have to ask, "What is my family dinner supposed to be like?" I'm not in control!
Roots and wings.
Did you ever hear that? Your children need roots. Your children need wings. I have a mental image of the sweet lady who told me this when I asked her how it was that she had wonderful children who married, had children of their own, but still lived nearby and loved coming home. "You have to give them roots [here she delicately gestured with both hands to the ground] and wings [gesturing delicately towards the sky]. Roots and wings [quick repeated gestures]!" So cute.
What is the root? Your marriage. So dinner together (once the babies are old enough to be up) means that you and your husband sit down to dinner together, as many days as you can manage, and at least on Sundays.
Believe me, as Rosie's mother, I understand when circumstances intervene, as in the case of a husband deployed to Afghanistan for 8 months! That would constitute a good excuse. Is that the case for you? Because if the case for you is something else, like "I didn't have time to prepare dinner today -- we grabbed what we could" (and this happens, but is it the norm?) or "We have meetings every night" or "We watch the news" or, well, you know...
Then it's time to figure out how you can show your devotion to your marriage, to your husband, by preparing dinner for him. (I really don't care who prepares what, my point is that you eat together.)
That's the root and source of grace and love for your family. Your marriage, your relationship with your husband.
Dinner together with your family, at the core, means dinner at which Mama and Papa sit down together to share bread and conversation, not letting anything disturb them, not letting their peace be disrupted. {You know, I mean in light of the New Testament, in a sort of macro sense with lots of room for ordinary, human error. Don't get frustrated by imperfection!}
Then, your younger children need to feel that things, insofar as they radiate outwards from this marriage bond, involve them and take their real needs into account. When your family is young, it's good to sometimes shower benign neglect on the toddlers, showing them that they have to fit into the family. But when the last toddlers are finally older, it's not good if life revolves around those who, after all, are getting to be (or already are) adults.
If your "baby" is 7, or 9, or 15, then focus on him. Worry about where he is going, who he is with. Eagerly look forward to talking with him. Let the 22-year-olds fend for themselves for a bit.
The "wings" are the willingness on your part to let them go, with a diligent, loving freedom. Don't be afraid, and don't fret when it comes to how you feel about it all.
It's normal, judging by me, for you to never want anyone to go anywhere. You just have to know when to voice that and when to refrain, and it takes a long time to figure that out, so also be patient with yourself.
Be flexible and don't worry.
New drivers, for instance, need that reminder to "be home by dinnertime" -- it says so much to them about responsibility, about what matters, about the limits of liberty. In fact, your simultaneous concern and confidence give them just what they need, these young people who are making their way in the interesting, dangerous, wide world.
Even more than physical activity, mental activity can make you wonder if you are doing things right. When the kids are young, you and your husband control the discussions, at least in theory (those long plot recountings and imaginary conflicts with inanimate characters notwithstanding). As everyone matures, suddenly it's the conversation that makes you feel like you've failed, or are seriously going to be reported to the family police.
Spouses who have a long habit of unity -- which is refined at the dinner table --and of making their relationship the foundation of family life, talking to each other, can face this challenge with equanimity.
Be strong in the knowledge that when you listen and reply calmly and/or with a sense of humor, when you accept that they will come and go, you don't relinquish anything. Be comforted in the fact that if the way I've done things is any indication, there is lots of room for making mistakes!
Keep those home fires burning and let the children have their wings.
You can find the recipes for the delightful dishes here on Rosie's Pinterest board -- fried dumplings, which truly were better and prettier here than they look in the photo she pinned, and to which she added mushrooms. And Chinese chicken salad minus the chicken (and plus some leftover corn), and in two versions, as some of us can't take the spicy heat. With cilantro on the side for cilantro haters. And grilled salmon.
The salmon (which actually she asked me to cook since she's not familiar with my grill) had a marinade of honey, ginger, rice wine vinegar, a little sesame oil, and soy sauce. I put a bit of peanut oil on it and grilled it on low heat in a basket, keeping the grill cover on, for about 15 minutes. Then she boiled down the leftover marinade for a nice glaze. So delicious!
