Continued from page 1
Um--no.
My idea of multi-tasking is breathing, talking, and hiking in
woods--all at
same time. My family eats a relaxing dinner together at home--by candlelight!--at least five nights a week. It's
best part of
day.
Don't get me wrong. Sports are great for kids. So is drama. And music. And debate.
But dinner matters, too. I figure that my kids aren't going to be living with us forever, and while they're here, it's a lot more important to have dinner together than it is to have
girls sign up for every sport and activity on earth.
What they lack in basket-shooting ability, they've gained in conversation skills, thoughtfulness, and an appreciation for family and shared meals.
They don't eat yogurt from a tube while riding in a van, then race home to study. Here's a typical scene at our house: four girls sprawled on
floor in front of
fireplace, doing homework or reading. This is after we've had an enjoyable dinner and they've cleaned up
kitchen.
It makes me feel terribly guilty. Shouldn't I be exhausted and irritable, battered by constant demands for rides and juice packs?
It's not that my kids don't do anything. They're into all kinds of activities--drama, music, dance, volunteer work, and even jobs. Two are gearing up for lacrosse, one is in
midst of interviews for a year-long exchange program, while
oldest is in her senior year and doing
college application dance. It's a busy time.
And yet, they still eat a real dinner at home most nights.
All of us--singles, married couples, young families and empty nesters--can benefit from
dinner ritual. By adopting and continuing
tradition of shared meals and conversation, we are emphasizing
importance of thinking and sharing ideas. If we want our culture to value thinking, we've got to start by offering a tribute to it on a daily basis.
Okay, so my kids may never get athletic scholarships. They may never meet a single university athletic director before choosing which college to attend. They won't be
next Olympic gymnast or ice skater, and they're not likely to be conducting symphonies by
time they're 25.
They'll have to settle for being happy, smart, kind, aware, motivated, and full of enthusiasm for
world and their place in it. Their father and I will just have to be satisfied with lasting memories of slow life with our cherished children, and our daughters will strive only to duplicate this same lifestyle for their own families someday.
Radical, isn't it?

Maya Talisman Frost is a mind masseuse. Her work has inspired thinkers in over 70 countries around the world. This article appeared in the Friday Mind Massage, a free weekly ezine serving up a satisfying blend of clarity, comfort and comic relief. To subscribe, visit http://www.massageyourmind.com.