Week 13 in my year of Family Dinners

Family Dinner Check-In: Bonding, Boundaries, and

10 Things I Hate About You

This week felt like a marathon: doctor’s appointments, board meetings, general chaos and yet somehow, we still managed three family dinners (Dinners 41, 42, and 43 of 100). I’m counting that as a win.

Our table looked the same as it usually does (with some kind of pasta or tacos on repeat), but the conversations, the energy, and the emotions around it felt different. Sometimes we crave those perfectly curated moments, but this week reminded me: connection doesn’t have to be flashy. It just needs to be real.

Co-Parenting, Boundaries, and Big Feelings

This was supposed to be a weekend where both kids were with their dad. But for the second weekend in a row, my daughter chose not to go.

She’s 13, and right now, she’s feeling like her boundaries aren’t being respected. And as hard as that is for everyone involved, I’m proud of her for naming it and standing her ground. She’s told me she

wants a break while she thinks about how to repair that relationship in her own time.

And I support her.

In co-parenting, we often feel pressure to make it all work “perfectly.” But the truth is, healthy relationships, especially post-divorce; require space, listening, and time. According to the American Academy of Pediatrics, children who feel safe and emotionally supported during co-parenting transitions show stronger long-term resilience. When kids are allowed to voice their discomfort and are taken seriously, we’re giving them one of the greatest gifts: permission to trust themselves.

This weekend, my daughter and I had some really sweet bonding time. We’re still working our way through my favorite teen movies (this week: 10 Things I Hate About You, obviously). She got to see me laugh at Heath Ledger, and I got to sit next to her and soak in her presence. No agenda. Just us. Oh, and our version of girl dinner; Starbucks and whatever leftovers that are in the fridge.

The Dinner Report

Earlier in the week, the three of us: me, my son (16), and my daughter (13) managed dinner on Sunday, Monday, and Wednesday. Tuesday was a board meeting night, and by the time I got home, everyone was done.

Our dinners weren’t dramatic or deep. But they happened. And in this season of life, that feels like everything.

I’m noticing a shift with my son, too. He didn’t push back as hard about dinner this week. He still lives for his video games and Facetime sessions with his friends, and I’m learning to meet him where he is at while still holding the line. No phones at the table (unless we’re fact-checking something or someone wants to show me a meme. That’s fair game). But we’re doing it. Slowly, consistently, imperfectly.

What I’m Thinking About for Next Week

I want to start adding more intention to our dinner conversations. Not lectures just meaningful questions or topics that spark curiosity. Right now, our conversations are fine. But I want more than “fine.” I want “That’s interesting” or “I never thought about it that way.” I want connection that sticks.

So this week, I’m brainstorming themes, prompts, maybe even a deck of “dinner talk” cards. Because these moments matter and even when it feels like no one’s listening, I know they are.

Here’s to the small wins. The simple dinners. The movie nights and the teenage moods. The co-parenting curves and the constant recalibrating. And most of all, the belief that showing up, over and over again, is more than enough.