Family Dinnertime

When you get married and start a family you naturally start to think of what things your parents did that you'd like to implement in your family and what things you don't. For me family dinners were very important. I loved chatting with my family at dinner as a kid and I wanted to make sure that our little family would sit down and enjoy our meal together every night. Now I'm lucky and my husband is home every night no later than 530 so we are able to accomplish this goal, but that doesn't mean your family couldn't do this every time it's feasible. With me the first thing I needed to do was learn how to cook.
I was not born a chef. I was actually terrible at anything that involved the kitchen. This wasn't a problem for me because as you read before I had no intention on being a happy homemaker. My mom tried to encourage me to learn to cook if anything so I could have the skill for when I left the nest. Joy (my mother and yes I call her by her first name) decided to have me cook one night of the week when I was a senior in high school and let me plan the meal and prepare it completely alone. This seemed simple except that I have a tendency to make everything difficult. I first selected a dish based solely on my desire to make this meal reflect my love of green vegetables. I found a recipe for broccoli casserole and set forth into the kitchen to prepare what I felt would be a delicious (I was weird, still am) meal to set in front of my parents and brother. I hit my first road block when I discovered that we had no frozen or fresh broccoli. I could not be deterred and in the back of the freezer I found a solid block of frozen spinach. Spinach was in my mind the perfect substitute for broccoli in that it was also green and packed with folic acid. After following the directions with a fair amount of my own perceived culinary genius and improvisation skills I had what appeared to be spinach jello. I assumed this is what it was supposed to look and wiggle like so I put in on a nice dish and served it to my family. My father stared down at it appalled and my brother refused to eat it, but Joy still allowed me to have a once a week dinner night. Those poor people endured an array of oddities (such as a giant sticky spaghetti ball after I cooked the noodles too long) at my hands until I finally graduated and moved out on my own. So long story still long, I was not a good cook when I got married.
Scott and I spent the majority of our first year of marriage eating the exact same thing every night-preseasoned Albertsons chicken breast and rice (or pasta) roni. I experimented from time to time with my homemade pizza created with a blend of marinara and alfredo sauce (i couldn't make up my mind) or the meat free Saturday breakfast with tofu sausage that our dog wouldn't eat until I discovered Rachel Ray and her 30 minute meals.
Rachel Ray is still my favorite and I collect her cookbooks. It has taken 10 years for me to even pretend to be a great cook but so far my kids have no idea that their kitchen lovin' mama was once a novice. Every night at 530 we sit down and eat dinner together as a family and talk. We attempt to get more than a one word answer about school out of Aiden and listen to Ellies endless prayers. I wouldn't trade this time for the world and if this is something your family doesn't do I highly recommend doing it.
You may be wondering what Swenson (my maiden name) quirk I decided to leave out of my family routine. Well, Joy would make a separate meal for my picky little brother nearly every night. I do not do this at all. If my kids don't like it or try it then they can eat tomorrow. It sounds cruel but I usually have a kid friendly side accompanying my dish so they have no excuses.