When my children were little, it was easy to create connected family time. I called it incubation, when we?d shut out the rest of the world and go off on our own, just the kids and my husband and me. We?d make a plan, pack up some snacks, load everyone in the car or strollers, and head out to some near or far-off state park or nature area, where we could run, play, climb and be as loud as a family of six people is sometimes wont to be.
It was up to us parents when and where and for how long we?d go, all the kids just falling into place. None of them questioning our motives or the places we went or whether they should come along or not. It was just what we did.
As they got a little older, family outings required a little more intention and a bit more planning, so we?d put it on the calendar to assure that it wouldn?t lose its rightly place in our family?s increasingly busy schedule. At least one day each weekend, we?d have a chunk of time blocked off for the necessary family time. While it definitely took more planning, and while the kids now weighed in about where we?d go and for how long, it still happened on as regular a basis as we, the parents, desired. My need for building family connection through time away from the friends and the fray was met.
Now, with two teens in the house and a 10-year-old who sometimes thinks she shares that status, my ideas for where and when to find family time have been taken out of my hands. When did I lose that power that was mine for so many years? Without me even realizing it was something that could one day be taken away, BAM, it was gone.
A few months ago, the aforementioned family time written clearly on the calendar, I gave verbal reminders about our outing. The protests began in earnest. ?I?m so tired.? ?I need to read.? ?I?m skateboarding with a friend. Now that we?re in different schools, this is the only time we see each other.?
I protested the protest with cries of my own: ?This is our time.? ?It?s how we always do it.? Which really, when translated meant, this is my time, and this is how I?ve always dictated it be done.
A bit of back and forth ensued, which shall remain, for the sake of the participants, somewhat confidential but which wasn?t exactly as diplomatic as I might have hoped. And finally, I relented: ?All right, see your friends. Do what you need to do.?
For a short spell, I did ponder playing the authority card. The one that says, ?I?m the mom and I decide.? But that?s the one that usually gets tossed back in my lap with a reminder that this isn?t 1950s parenting. And rather than drag two reluctant teens and a preteen into the woods with us, and ruin it for all of us, my husband and I took our 6-year-old for a hike. Just the three of us. And we had a really good time.
That evening, we all returned home at the preordained hour for a 30-minute sit-down dinner, which in the moment seemed pretty darn huge. Not a whole day whenever I deem it so, but 30 minutes, around the table, everybody present, everyone checking in with the highs and lows of the day.
It?s not exactly what I want every week, but it?s what I?ll take. I?ll insist on bigger family time when it really, really matters, but for the most part, this will suffice. I hope that by not forcing the hand, it?ll deepen. And it will last longer. Like our whole life long. Since I?ll be parenting teens for the next 13 years or so, I guess I?m glad I figured it out now.
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