Eating out with kids

“Let’s eat out”.

It’s one of those phrases designed to make anyone with kids under the age of ten blanch with horror.

Or maybe it’s just my family.

It used to be the case that within minutes of hitting a restaurant there’d be at least on child under the table, another would have split at least half a litre of liquid across the table, and a third would be quietly sobbing about the fact that they ‘don’t like food. Meanwhile I’d be wishing I’d ordered wine and a teleportation device.

But things change. And these days one of my favourite things is taking my three out for a meal. It’s not that none of the things above happen anymore – they still do – but they’re an occasional blight on an otherwise happy occasion.

Our current family set up means that we have weeks where we see less of each other, so it’s becoming a tradition that once every two weeks I take the three children out for a meal.

We tend to go straight from school so it’s not a late night, and we sit and have a chat about ‘stuff’. It’s a completely different atmosphere from eating at home when I’m generally up and down to the kitchen, sorting various things out, hurrying people along then dashing back to get on with the washing up. Eating out creates an environment where we all have time for each other. There’s no TV/DS/Wii distractions and we’re all happy to be in each other’s company.

I love this time with my kids. They listen to one another and help sort out each other’s problems, something that I’m not really aware of at any other time.

The only moment of horror now is that point right at the end when I’m presented with the bill, and as I pull £50 in crisp notes out of my purse, the last of my cash reserves, a little voice asks me if it’s worth it. And looking at the smiles on my children’s faces I think, ‘yes, it definitely is’.
 

Friday, 27th January 2012

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