My Year of 100 Family Dinner Week 30: Dinners #76

Co-Parenting, Back-to-School, and Pasta

We are blazing through the year. 30 weeks in and it’s already August. The first full week of August always feels like a turning point. Summer’s freedom slips away, school ramps up, and suddenly everything is busy again. This week was no exception.

The Co-Parenting Balance

Co-parenting continues to be its own kind of journey. My son, now a senior in high school, has adapted to this new rhythm in his own way. Since he can drive, he pops over to his dad’s house for lunch, dinner, or football whenever he wants. I love that he feels comfortable enough to do that. My only rule is that he communicates with me and manages his responsibilities.

That part is hard sometimes. I joke that I’m a helicopter parent in recovery but when your child has epilepsy, “not knowing” is terrifying. So yes, I call his dad when I’m unsure where he is. And you know what? That communication between us is what makes this whole co-parenting thing possible. We don’t parent the same way: I am hands-on, while their dad is far more relaxed; but we do keep each other informed. And that matters.

My daughter’s journey with her dad has been harder. For the last six months, she hasn’t wanted to spend time with him. This weekend, though, she spent 18 hours there. And for the first time in a while, there was a spark of connection. He had resin ready for them to work with: something she absolutely loves but I haven’t let her do at home. They made resin pictures together, and she came home excited (as excited as she gets). That’s what I want for her: moments of joy, moments of connection. They don’t have to be the same kind of parent I am. They just need to find their own way to bond.

Teaching Independence

This week also brought another step in my son’s independence. He had a doctor’s appointment in the middle of the school day, right after he’d chosen to spend time at his dad’s house. I reminded him that if he’s going to float between houses, he needs to take responsibility for his commitments. And he did! He met me at the doctor’s office, on time and prepared. It was one of those quiet proud mom moments: watching him step into adulthood, learning to manage his own appointments.

Back-to-School Night

Back-to-school night was a whirlwind. I divided the evening into two parts: first with my daughter, visiting every single class, making sure teachers knew about her 504, and gently reminding people that she is her own person and not just “his little sister.” She deserves her own identity, her own space.

Then I circled back with my son, meeting his teachers, checking that his IEP and seizure action plan were in place. These nights are busy, but they give me peace of mind knowing that their supports are understood, and my children are seen for who they are.

One Simple Pasta Dinner

And here’s the truth: this week only included one family dinner. Just one. A simple pasta meal around the table. Every other night, the kids grabbed frozen pizza, ramen bowls, or leftovers I labeled for them. Between football, booster club responsibilities, and all the back-to-school bustle, I just couldn’t do more.

But that one pasta dinner? It still mattered. We sat, we connected, we laughed. That’s the point of this journey. It’s not about perfection or seven beautiful meals every week. It’s about making the effort to sit together when we can, to keep the thread of connection alive no matter how busy life becomes.

My Takeaway This Week

Co-parenting, high school, booster clubs, and busy schedules is a lot. But I keep learning that connection doesn’t have to be fancy. Sometimes it’s a quiet phone call to a co-parent to check on your child. Sometimes it’s a shared art project. Sometimes it’s showing up at school so teachers see your kids as whole people. And sometimes it’s a bowl of pasta at the end of a long week.

This week, I exhaled with relief when it was over. But I also felt grateful. Grateful for the small moments that keep us grounded, for kids who are growing into themselves, and for the table that’s always waiting for us:

even if it’s just once in a busy week.