The dinner hour used to be my worst time of the day until I started doing this.

When I was a teenager, my dad and I were at an airport with some extra time to kill. I told him I was going to stop at a Caribou Coffee and meet him at the gate. As the minutes ticked by, my dad was getting worried that I might be late and miss the flight. He asked someone where Caribou Coffee was. Apparently there were six in this particular airport! He ran around the airport at full speed, looking for me, terrified of missing our flight. I ran into him fifteen minutes before boarding and was surprised by what a state he was in. Apparently the stress was so extreme that his eyes were damaged and his vision was never the same. He always complained of “floaters” that would impede his vision. He’d never had any vision problems until the infamous “Caribou Coffee incident”. The stress of that incident was something life-changing and he referred to it often. I couldn’t imagine how he must have felt, until I had kids and had to start enduring dinner time.

This is an actual picture of dinner time at my house. Two of them are standing in this picture but one is often crawling on the table.


The dinner time drama is always the same at our house. My boys take naps from 3 until about 5 every day and wake up starving. This is the timeline of events:
5:00: Desperate phone call to my husband asking when he will be home for dinner. He promises 6:15
5-6:15: Little boys attack the refrigerator as I try to hold them off so they will have an appetite for dinner.
5:30: The phone rings and I pick it up. Boys attack the fridge and eat an unbelievable amount of snacks in three minutes flat.
5:33: Appetites ruined.
6:15 Dinner is on the table.
6:20: Husband calls to say he is going to be late and he will be home by 7. Boys attack the fridge again while I am on the phone.
7:00: A reheated dinner is on the table.
7:20: Dad rolls in and we sit down to eat.

I try to get the boys to sit down and eat dinner with us but they aren’t hungry, or not hungry enough to eat grown up food when they have stuffed themselves with string cheese, bananas and yogurts over the last couple hours. Instead of eating dinner, they crawl on the table, throw food at each other and spill drinks everywhere.

I have read articles that herald the benefits of a family dinner. Less obesity, better grades and higher self-esteem are all benefits reaped by kids who eat dinner with their families. In fact I’ll bet most canonized saints and brain surgeons had a family dinner every night. But will our family really reap those benefits when every dinner is reminiscent of the stress of that infamous Caribou Coffee incident?

I decided to make a change a month ago and it has radically changed my state of mind during those precarious hours between 5 and bedtime. While the boys are sleeping, I cook dinner and then clean the entire kitchen. At five, each child’s dinner is sitting on the table, waiting for them just as they wake up. Since they always wake up ravenous, they eat whatever I put out for them! The best parenting advice I have ever gotten is from my friend Tanya who told me “Leslie, hungry kids eat”. They happily eat kale, spinach, curried red lentils, even fish during the magical hour of 5 pm. Since they aren’t sitting at the table against their wills, we have wonderful conversation about their day at preschool, and many other topics they have never talked about before. This evening, for example, I learned that my four-year-old isn’t sure what to do about a girl who has been trying to kiss him and that my six-year-old is regarded as the fastest kid in his class. Imagine that! After dinner, we just put our dishes in the dishwasher and the kitchen is clean. My husband later comes home to a clean kitchen and a happy wife. What a great way to start the evening!

Ever since this change in our dinner schedule, I have started to understand the benefits of a family dinner. Although I am sad that dad isn’t a part of it, I am so glad to enjoy these moments which are so rich in the little details of their lives. Someday my boys will not be crawling on the table and will be hungry enough to eat whenever I serve them dinner. Until then, I love my early dinners with these little boys.


What I wish I knew when I was in the throes of culture shock in Germany

Two years ago, I was excited about moving my family to Wiesbaden, Germany. My German husband told me that he was offered a job and I didn’t think twice about moving our family to this new place. I had spent time studying abroad in undergrad, my husband and I loved backpacking in the summers and I spoke German. We wanted our kids to be bilingual and moving to Germany was the perfect way to cultivate their cultural identity as Germans. This was an unbelievable opportunity!

It is true that this relocation was a wonderful opportunity for our family but I was surprised by how hard the transition was. I spent almost two years feeling frustrated, alienated and often angry about my new living situation. If I could go back and give myself some support in my darkest moments, this is what they would be:

1. You are not going to be affirmed and filled with joy by the strangers on the street or in the grocery store.

I never realized how smiley, talkative and sweet my fellow Americans are until I moved to this land. Where I am from, if you pass someone on the sidewalk, you make eye contact and greet that person. In my new country, most people look down or if it looks like I am taking up a lot of room on the sidewalk (having four kids in tow will do that!) they will cross the street to avoid me. At the grocery store once, I remarked to another woman how good the cheese in her cart looked, where was it located in the store so I could get some, too? She looked at me with genuine surprise and after she got over the shock, she mumbled something and walked away. I have found that many Germans just don’t do small talk with strangers. This used to make me really sad since I am an extrovert and am used to interacting with strangers in a friendly way in my day-to-day life.

2. Don’t take it so personally

I used to take this standoffishness personally. I would come home after saying hello to strangers and just feel sad and rejected. Why were people being so cold? I have come to realize that it is not personal at all; it is just a cultural difference! Germans can be incredibly loving, sweet and warm, once you know them. There is a distinction between strangers and friends and courtesies like giving a greeting and offering a smile are often for friends, not strangers.

3. Remember who your core is and save your energy for those people instead of being mad about the way strangers treat you.

This morning, I said hello to a neighbor and she gave me dagger eyes after taking a look at my four kids and said “hmmm”. I used to be filled with anger and frustration over people like her. Since I often encounter this kind of disapproval, I carried a lot of frustration inside of me. Then I would come home and be sad around my kids and my husband. Why am I letting a neighbor down the street set the tone in my home? My core people are my husband, kids and some close girlfriends. I should not give power to strangers to disrupt those relationships.

4. Stop attributing every negative experience to the German population at large

It is true that in addition to not being overtly friendly, some Germans have been outright rude and insulting to me and my children. One of the most egregious examples of this is when a woman violently pushed my shopping cart out of the way at the store because she thought I was taking too long. My child was was standing in the cart, getting ready to be lifted out of the seat. That violent shove made him fall and thank God I was there to catch him. Even though these experiences do not happen every day, those emotions stayed with me for days afterward. I felt so angry at Germans on the whole for not being kid-friendly enough. If I am being honest with myself, I have to admit that there have been many Germans who have held a door open for me, complimented my children or helped me get the stroller up the stairs. It is true that Germany isn’t as kid-centric as the US, but I have to stop feeling angry at the entire German population for the actions of a few people who have crossed the line.

6. Vent to someone who doesn’t want to fix things but who will just listen.

My husband, God bless him, is a man who wants to solve problems. On hard days, sometimes I just want to tell someone how I feel and be affirmed. When there is a genuine problem to be solved, I go to my husband since he a German and understands the culture so much better than I do. When I just need to get something off my chest, I find a friend who is in the same boat as me and just understands. Sometimes that is all I need.

7. Cultivating a strong spiritual life goes a long way

St. Augustine said “Our heart is restless until it rests in you”. A former colleague of mine used to say we have a God-shaped hole in our heart and all that can fill that void is God himself. It wasn’t until I moved to Germany that I realized how much of a void I felt in my heart since I was not in my homeland. Filling that void with spiritual reading, a supportive congregation and a strong prayer life has been the best antidote to my homesickness for the USA. Being in Europe, there is no shortage of beautiful churches to visit. My favorite is the Augustinekirche in Mainz; it is my happy place! A few minutes of prayer and reflection in those kinds of surroundings is just what my soul needs some days.