dinner makes an impression

It seems thankless. That act of day after day, year after year of shopping for and planning and cooking meals, and M got it right— I cook, we eat, then I (though mostly Dad) 'clens' up. That sentence exposes the sheer repetitiveness, that can at times get, well, old. And on those days when it gets really old, I give myself permission to get take-out, or make a box of mac-n-cheese, or go out, and then get back at it. But, that repetitiveness is also what makes dinner special. We count on it, we make it a priority, we connect, we eat yummy food. We miss it when we are on vacation or away from home.I'm sure I wasn't showering my mother with gratitude at the time, but looking back, family dinners were reliable, mostly "yam" (except her paper thin, leathery pork chops that she baked with a schmear of yellow mustard), and exist in the warm and fuzzy part of my childhood memories. I am hoping that M will look back and feel the same way someday. 

I will miss the days of deciphering words... I mentioned on FB a while back how often M refers to meals in conversation and in her "writing moments" activities. See if you can tell what was for dinner that was "yam."

On another note, to honor national Adoption month, tomorrow I will kick off a 4 part series on feeding challenges, with special attention to the unique issues that foster and adopted children bring to the table.  I will also introduce the "Worry Cycle" of feeding, which is relevant to all families struggling with feeding and weight worries. More to come!P.S. I want to recognize my privilege that I can eat out or get take-out when I get sick of cooking, and that I have a partner who helps with the cleaning up. When my husband is out of town, it definitely feels much, much harder. I tend to serve less family-style for less clean-up, and make less elaborate meals. Just want to acknowledge how much harder it is for families where job hours, or finances make it even more challenging.