I started reading Corinne at Two Pink Lines early in her pregnancy and immediately got caught up in her total enthusiasm as it related to her pregnancy and the impending birth of little Shepherd (whose name she withheld forever). While I wouldn’t let any of my stuffed animals over to play at her house (that Fleming is sure to be a bad influence), I sure wouldn’t mind hanging out with Corinne. She seems fun and has just the right attitude when dealing with all the little things that pregnancy and parenting infants has to offer – like going to your doctor’s appointment on the wrong day. So, let’s sit around the dinner table while Corrine tells us about her family tradition.
I was honored when Matthew asked me to write about my family’s traditions. I thought, awesome! I know there’s bound to be something I can write about! But here I am, weeks later, racking my brain trying to think of one of our “good ol’ family traditions”. It’s hard, because my family is anything, if inconsistent. When I was little, we moved every 4 years or so, and never close to family. We even lived in Costa Rica and Chile for a few years. So having moved around all my life, there was little time to cultivate traditions.
Now that I have a family of my own, I’ve looked back into my own childhood, remembering what it was like growing up. And the one thing that I found that we consistantly did as a family was to eat dinner together. Even when I was in high school, dinner was always served at the table, and everyone ate together. We never ate in front of the TV, never ate in shifts, and never did anything other than eat at the table. It was a time for us to come together, to talk, and to deal with issues we struggled with. I remember many a debate that took place over dinner with all four of us offering our own opinions. This was the great thing about dinner… we could own our own opinions, we could disagree, and we could still love each other. We did this from the time I was an infant to when I was in high school… I never thought to ask if I could eat somewhere else, because dinner was fun. Yes, I even thought that as a teenager. It was fun to talk with mom and dad, it was fun to listen to what was going on at mom’s work, to hear about dad’s day, and to joke around with my little brother. We enjoyed visiting, and we enjoyed being together.
Years later, I still find myself lingering at the dinner table long after the meal has been consumed, talking with my parents. And even today, in my own home, we strap our little 4 month old son in his high chair, sit down together at the table, and talk. Mostly, we make faces at Shepherd trying to get him to smile, but occasionally, some adult conversation takes place… and long after our plates are clean, we sit, talking and enjoying the time spent together. Traditions have a way of forming, even in the most chaotic situations, and I’m thankful for our dinners together… and look forward to many more years of shared dinners.
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