Dinner time at my house most nights is chaos. Between the hours of 4 and 6pm, my kids are usually in the throes of some level of tantrum at my feet, the dogs are barking at the neighbor kids, the phone is ringing, and someone is whining for a snack or movie or trust fund or something. And you know, I'm trying to make dinner, too.
And then dinner is usually it's own adventure. Is Daddy going to be home to eat with us tonight? Which kid will ask for nuggets or cookies first? Who is going to spill their drink? It usually ends up with one or both kids on my lap trying to eat my food, which is the same food that was on their plates but Mom's is on a glass plate so IT MUST BE BETTER.
Tonight, for the first time since I can remember, we had a really really great family dinner. It wasn't anything fancy, (though my meatloaf is sort of the bomb) but we were all together eating at the same time. The kids ate what I cooked, loved it, and wanted more. Nobody cried, or yelled, or threw a fit when they couldn't bring their toys to the table. Sam asked to be excused, and washed his own hands.
WTF has happened to my family? Believe me, I am not complaining, but I could SO get used to this. :)
They even ate their vegetables. Maybe Aunt Kathy needs to come stay more often.
That's it. Meatloaf, every night, forever. Whatever works.
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