Breaking Bread and Cutting Cheese

Now I don't need an Obama to tell me that eating dinner as a family is important. It's actually one of the very grown up things Jeremy and I do with Natalia since we have become a trio. I say that because when you have been with someone since you were 17, well, we still feel like grown up posers sometimes. You know, kind of like we are playing house and it makes me giggle. That being said, we managed to put our own spin on dinner time - it's also family TV time.


For years I felt a little guilty about this because I was afraid that we were missing out on some earth shattering family bonding experiences, but then even when we have the TV off (usually because Natalia is naughty and EVERYONE has to pay the consequences) there are rules like "no talking with food in your mouth" and "no singing at the table". I mean, we are really just sitting there and eating anyway, so I let go of that guilt and decided to focus on my other million things I love to feel guilty about as a mother.


The most important thing about dinner time is that we gather around and eat together. Yes, there is some talking over the TV, but nothing beats the family prayer. I will throw it out there that we have got Jeremy to say the dinner prayer once. It was totally a big deal and we haven't pushed it since. Other than that, Natalia and I take turns. Now, I don't know about your religious beliefs, but mine have changed a lot over the past few years. I see God more as another family member and there is much less ritual to my religion. This is never more apparent than at prayer time. 


Here's an example of how my dinner prayer goes - out loud mind you: "Dear Lord in heaven, thank you so much for dinner and our family (the dog starts barking next to me), and thank you for the invention of the bark collar which I am going to put on the dog so he will get shocked instead of barking at me, thank you for all our blessings and for Natalia, thank you for all our food and Chance's (the dog) food which I forgot to feed him and that is why I think he is still barking at me while I'm trying to pray. In Jesus' name, amen." Usually Natalia has interrupted the prayer at least once to yell at the dog. I know! It's not even a long prayer! She's just really bossy and the power tilts in her direction when it is her vs. the dog.

Here's a typical Natalia prayer: "Dear God in heaven thank you for my food and my family, thank you for helping me make a 100% on my spelling test, please help my plantar warts not hurt, and God please watch out for the Triangle People because I have seen more triangles today on the playground and we know they are out there. Jesus. Name. Amen." The triangle people are her latest conspiracy theory, not something she is actually afraid of or really needs help with. I love prayer time. It cracks me up and makes me happy, so I figure it does the same for God. Besides, it's all about our relationship with Him and, after all, these are the days of our lives (cue the dramatic music).


One of my girlfriends told me that at her dinner table they have this wooden spoon, or something, that they pass around like a scepter and whoever has this spoon of power gets to talk about their day. Once that person has finished, then it is passed to the next kiddo and so on. I guess this way everyone has a chance to talk and the idea is to respect the speaker. Well, since Natalia is the only child, we've never had to do anything like this and I think it would just give she and I something else to fight over. Yes, I am that immature sometimes. 

The last thing I'm going to hit on are our rules. Now growing up, I thought every house had the same rules for dinner and therefore it was only natural when I had to pass those rules down to my own child. Jeremy let me know.... not so much. Of course there are the normal rules like don't chew with your mouth open, don't talk with your mouth full, don't burp out loud at the table or EVER (Natalia and I are getting dinged hard on this one lately. I mean, it just slips out sometimes) and don't lean into your farts at the dinner table. Those are pretty standard I think. It's not that we are a bunch of heathens, but situations have arisen that have required these rules to be stated out loud - numerous times.


Okay, so here are some of the rules that were standard in my childhood home that Jeremy thought were weird, but now he totally gets them: No singing at the table. I'm not kidding when I tell y'all that Natalia and I sing a lot. Sometimes I'll be out in public and I'm not sure if I was just singing in my head or if I had forgot myself and was singing out loud. It's just what we do. Another one is no crying at the table. Now this sounds a little harsh, but I don't mind if she gets upset and we need to work something out, but the waterworks have got to have a limit. It's amazing how quickly she can get them under control when I tell her "I don't mind if you cry sweetheart, but you just can't do it at the table. Just come back when you're ready." She's usually instantly ready. Now my parents never said it to me that way, but there was still the no crying rule. Then there is the "lick it" rule where any new food only has to be licked, not actually chewed and our newest rule is don't criticize the cook because that person is usually me. This stems from Natalia looking at one of my new Pinterest creations and stating "This looks like slop."


Now, had I been myself lately, yes I would have been annoyed, but I wouldn't have teared up. This goes back to the no crying at the table and I started breaking my own rule. Then Natalia felt bad and she started crying, now we are both breaking the rule. Poor Jeremy. He lives in crazy town. Later that night I explained to Natalia that she didn't hurt my feelings, but I would prefer her not to call my food "slop" since I do put my best effort into it. Again, tears because she felt bad. She's such a sweet and sensitive girl - other than the "slop" comment, I guess, but you know what I mean. Hey, we all have our moments and it did come out a grayish color. In true Lacow form, this has become our new running joke. The mommy slop. I mean, it's too easy of a target now that it caused so many tears over a four letter word and a bum Pinterest recipe. Now it's just funny and I think I'll have to work that word into tomorrow night's prayer, just for giggles.

If I want to put a Pollyanna spin on our ritual it would sound like this: We take the time in the evening to sit and spend time together while we eat, practice our etiquette, pray together and share our day. Awe, that sounds so nice, doesn't it? Okay, realistically we gather at the table four days a week on our off days to eat, pray together in our Lacow way, try not to burp out loud, cry or sing, I'll coax SOMETHING about Natalia's day out of her while I mute the commercial, all while the dog is being gently zapped because he gains more joy out of barking at me than he endures pain from the actual shock collar. Whatever it is or isn't, this is our dinner time and I love it.