Sunday routine an anchor for family certainty

OUR children’s school often prints articles by parenting expert Michael Grose as an inclusion in the weekly newsletter. A couple of weeks ago there was an article about the importance of resilience in children and what simple things can be done at home to assist our children to develop resilience.

The article stressed the importance of active participation by children in the family. To achieve this, it suggested that a family develop routine activities that children could count on so that whatever else was going on in their life they knew that those things would happen and happen regularly. It resonated with me. Growing up, we always had Sunday lunch together. Dad would cook the meat on his prized Weber barbecue. The ritual was Dad dragging it out to the driveway, individually inspecting each heat bead to ensure it was fit for this week’s roast, heating the beads and then assiduously supervising the cooking of the meat. The roast, when cooked, would be presented to Mum in a style resplendent of Mufasa presenting the new- born lion prince Simba to the awaiting pride in The Lion King.

While Dad was cooking the meat, Mum was inside preparing all of the other aspects of the meal. We were recruited, willing or not — and in our twenties, hung-over or not — to peel potatoes and pumpkin, top and tail beans and set the table.

There was no bending of the ritual. If you had a friend to stay the night, they either had to go home well before the commencement of the ritual or well after its conclusion.

Mum grew up in a family of nine children in a suburb in Adelaide where big Catholic families were common and men keeping their jobs were not, so often, instead of 11 at their table, there were additional blow-ins.

Mum, as the eldest girl, learnt quickly, that you always made extra as you never quite knew who was turning up.

The same principle was applied at our Sunday lunch and so it was that friends and boyfriends and neighbourhood kids would often find themselves at our table.

The importance of the ritual and its predictability in my life growing up had never been clearly understood by me until I read the Michael Grose article. Knowing Dad was going to be out, by himself, cooking on the Weber enabled you a predictable opportunity to catch him alone to talk with him, sometimes about tricky things like “How will Mum take it if we elope?” or, “I have just been offered a job interstate, what do you think?”

Knowing Mum was in the kitchen cutting up potatoes also allowed us the opportunity to talk with her and hopefully recruit her before asking Dad tricky questions like whether it would be OK to buy me a plane ticket for my 21st instead of having a longawaited party for family and friends, or if they would allow me to host a dinner for 25 friends on New Year’s Eve at their house and could they help me cook?

When friendships or relationships ended or we didn’t get an invite to the cool kid’s party or the year when I finally made the under-16s state netball squad and my ankle gave way and I managed three exhibition matches all season before being benched, Sunday lunch was always there. It was simple, reliable and predictable.

With our children now all at school and with one on the cusp of high school, finding a family activity that allows everyone to participate, irrespective of age, interest and attitude is difficult. But there is a nagging realisation deep in my gut that finding that activity and implementing it, is important and time is of the essence.

And so, after discussions with our tribe, it is resolved that the tradition of Sunday lunch at our house will begin and hopefully continue, indefinitely. Blow-ins and grandparents are welcome. Child labour in peeling potatoes will be compulsory.

“While Dad was cooking the meat, Mum was inside preparing all of the other aspects of the meal. We were recruited, willing or not — and in our twenties, hung-over or not — to peel potatoes and pumpkin, top and tail beans and set the table.”

Rachel Schutze is a principal of Maurice Blackburn, wife and mother of three.(Ed’s note: Ms Schutze is married to Corio MP Richard Marles.)