Sunday nights usually consist of my husband and two children heading to my parent's house for dinner...along with my brothers, sister-in-law, 1 year old nephew, my six cousins, one fiancee', aunt, and anyone else who might be hungry for dinner.
It's a great tradition that has held strong in our Italian family, but I won't lie: adding kids to the mix makes it a whole different experience.
I've decided that more than anything in life, bringing a child into existence creates more change and more need to constantly adapt to "new normal's" than anything else. We adapted Sunday night dinners when our first came along. We would bring our pack n play, my mom pulled out a high chair that I used when I was a baby, we positioned ourselves strategically at the table so as not to be in anyone's way but to also be able to get up 30 times in a meal if needed, etc. We adjusted.
Now, bringing two kids over on Sunday dinners is even more of an adjustment. This past Sunday, my one year old seemed to be extra fussy, which meant no one but Mom (me) could hold him. And even when I was holding him, he still seemed discontented. My sweet, precious 3 year old shockingly spilled her full cup of milk two separate times, once all over her plate of food. Ugh. And in our decision to opt out of putting our 1 year old down for bed in the pack n play, he simply cried more and more because of it, until the last 5 minutes of the night where he seemed mesmerized by Nani's jewelry. Where were you when I needed you all night, I thought?!
I had to remind myself that the point of gathering was not to have clean table cloths, hot food (though that would be a treat, wouldn't it?), and peace and quiet. We gather together because we are family. The tradition of gathering together and placing this as a priority sends a message to each new generation, and solidifies the bonds we've developed over the years.
Upon leaving, I apologized to my Mom for how "crazy" (my word) it can be with the kids there. I'm not as helpful as I was pre-kids, because instead of being able to do dishes for 40 minutes, I usually have one child at my feet and one in my arms. I apologized for Owen's crying, quickly following with a deflecting statement of "I just don't know what was wrong with him tonight." My mom calmly smiled at me - that smile that says 'I've been there, I know what you're going through, I know what life with "littles" can be like' - and simply told me how much she just enjoys everyone being together, noise and all. "It's too quiet in the house during the week with everyone gone; I love when we're all here together on Sunday and it's loud."
Great perspective. Thanks, Mom.