My year of 100 Family Dinners Week 40: Dinners 96, 97, 98

“Because I love you, and I want to spend time with you.”

This year is flying by. And somehow, nothing looks the way I thought it would, yet here we are, inching closer to 100 family dinners together.

Lately, my son keeps asking me why we’re having so many family dinners. Each time, I give him the same answer: Because I love you. And I want to spend time with you.

My daughter doesn’t understand why he keeps asking: she thinks the answer should be obvious. And maybe it is. But I’ll keep answering every time, because sometimes our kids need to hear the same truth again and again: you matter, and I choose you.

A Week of Medical Appointments and Adjustments

I tried, again, to get my haircut on Monday. I’ve canceled that appointment more times than I can count. This time, I actually made it. My son had a medical incident at school and needed to be picked up. I had already told people I was getting my haircut and that his dad would need to be on call. It took a few calls, but I managed to actually keep this appointment.

We ended up home together the rest of the day after the appointment, and honestly, the one-on-one time mattered more than the haircut ever could.

This week included dentist appointments, football practices, neurology appointments, and another EEG. He’s had a few of these before, so he knew the drill: stay up all night beforehand. He was thrilled and miserable at the same time. We made it work. He fell asleep during the test like he needed to, and I breathed a small sigh of relief.

The follow-up appointment brought more answers and more questions. We’re scheduling an overnight EEG sooner than expected, adjusting medications again, looping in cardiology, and keeping his primary care doctor updated. Coordinating care feels like a full-time job sometimes. There’s a lot of anxiety wrapped into this stage, but also a lot of hope.

Quiet Support and Cold Panda Express

One of our three dinners this week was Panda Express picked up after a long neurology appointment. It was cold by the time we got home, but since we live in a town without Panda Express, my daughter was thrilled. We sat down together, laughed, and ate cold orange chicken like it was a celebration. And honestly? It kind of was.

Not every family dinner is homemade. Not everyone is warm. But they’re still ours.

Football, Books, and Borrowed Calm

Football took us three hours away this week. Because things feel fragile right now, I followed the bus the whole way just in case. I arrived early, sat in my car, and finished a book: ADHD Is Awesome by Penn and Kim Holderness

(summary coming soon).

At the game, I sat with some of my favorite moms. They are supportive, kind, and steady in a way that feels grounding. I didn’t always have this community. It took seven years (really!) before I felt truly rooted here. When my closest friend moved away, the loneliness hit hard. Building community as an adult takes time, vulnerability, and effort but it is worth every bit of it.

Why Moms Need Community (and Why It Matters for Kids)

Research consistently shows that mothers who have strong social support experience lower stress, better mental health, and greater resilience and that benefits their children directly.

Studies published in journals like Child Development and The American Psychological Association have found that:

• Children of emotionally supported parents show better emotional regulation and coping skills

• Parental stress levels are directly linked to children’s anxiety and behavior

• Mothers with strong friendships report feeling more capable, patient, and confident as parents

In short: a supported mom helps raise supported kids. Community isn’t a luxury: it’s a protective factor.

The Heart of This Week

Three dinners. A lot of questions. A lot of unknowns. And a whole lot of love.

This week wasn’t about fixing things. It was about showing up again and again. About answering the same question with the same truth. About sitting together even with cold takeout and choosing connection anyway.

Life looks different right now. Schedules are shifting. Independence has paused. And we’re adjusting, one day at a time. But we’re doing okay. We’re supported. And we’re not alone.

If you’re reading this and feeling stretched thin, worried, or tired in a way, sleep doesn’t fix this: you’re not failing. You’re parenting through change. And that counts for so much.