Why my family sometimes eats apart these days
We take food pretty seriously in my house. It’s usually the first question my kids ask me in the morning. Before they’ve eaten breakfast. “Mom, what’s for dinner?”
I don’t know why I’m the Keeper of Dinner Knowledge.
Maybe they’re just making conversation. Either way, dinner is the meal that has been the most impacted by the pandemic lockdown.
I am so sick of meal planning and meal prep.
Lately, every time I’m asked what’s for dinner, or breakfast, or lunch, or if there’s “anything to eat” (read: my younger son’s unsubtle way of asking if I will prepare a snack for him) a part of me wants to throw something.
I used to despise packing school lunches, but now I miss the old days of three months ago, when I could banish my kids to school and not have to answer any food-related questions until we all returned home. Now I field the “what is there to eat?” question several times a day.
We favour quick, simple meals at home: grilled chicken or roast with salad, a pot of chili, rice and dal, pasta and sauce, channa with bhatura. One positive development of the lockdown is that we have finally achieved gender parity in the kitchen, as my husband discovered his inner chef. Possibly because he’s been playing a lot of “Overcooked 2” on Xbox with the kids. He has been tinkering with lunch, dinner and dessert recipes several times a week, much to my delight. My elder son has also learned to flex his independent muscle and has taken to preparing his own lunch. Progress!
And then there’s dinner. Oh, dinner, you evening meal of daily repetition. I prepare a meal that lasts for two days,
but you return to haunt me once more. Sometimes it feels like I am doomed to have the same conversation with my husband and kids for the rest of my life: What’s for dinner? What do we have in the fridge? What are we in the mood for? What’s for dinner?
I know this is all compounded by social distancing. In the before times, we used to enjoy a big family meal at my parents’ home every weekend. We would meet friends for dinners or invite my in-laws for a movie night. Last week I realized that we have eaten at home, just the four of us, every day since March. When Ontario finally opened up to “social bubbles” of 10 people on June 12, it was a relief to once again make dinner plans with my parents, though we are keeping those interactions limited.
All of this immediate-family together time has been great in many ways. I’ve grown closer to my kids; I’m more updated on their school work since I have spent the last few months supervising their online learning. My sons have been forced to play nicely, and even when they fight they make up quickly. That’s what happens when you only have one other person to play one-on-one basketball with on the driveway. We all play board games and go for bike rides and walks and watch movies together. So. Much. Family. Time. In the past few months, something has shifted in our dinner habits. Before COVID-19, we would eat dinner together every night. Now that has changed.
I’m going to admit to something I’m not proud of: a few times a week, the kids will disappear into the basement to eat in front of the TV, while my husband and I watch “Patriot Act” in the family room. We still eat dinner together several times a week, but sometimes we do not.
It used to bug me — the “family dinner is for winners” mantra is one I’ve bought into, but I’ve also come to accept that the key to surviving long-term social isolation has been to carve out time for ourselves at home.
Our usual routine, pre-COVID-19, allowed for greater independence through school and jobs and socializing. As parents, we’ve had to loosen the rules for the sake of our family mental health. As a result, our hybrid approach to dinner has resulted in more co-operative food preparation and minimal family squabbles. It works for us.
Besides, every parent knows that if you eat one meal on your own, another meal is only a few hours away and somebody will have to start cooking. Sigh.