As a blog focusing on the intersection between parenting, manners, and modern mores, we have posted on many topics related to mealtime manners. We’ve taken on table manners, table talk, and the hazards of restaurant dining. We've also explored the perils and pleasures of dinner parties and being a hostess onself. However, we have not yet considered teaching one’s children to becomes well mannered hosts and hostesses of a family dinner gathering.
K.J. Dell’Antonia does just that in her recent post “The Youngest Thanksgiving Hosts” on the Motherlode blog. She shows how delegating small tasks can lead to a greater sense of ownership for a family social event, helping children evolve into competent hosts and hostesses. Hosts in the truest sense of the word, attuned more to the comfort of their guests, than making sure everyone uses the correct fork for their dessert.
Though Ms.Dell’Antonia's post reflects on the already past Thanksgiving meal, its worth reading and thought, especially for all those modern mothers who will host a holiday meal, dinner with family friends, or any number of December family social events. Whatever’s on your family dance card in the coming month, here's to helping our children learn to be gracious hosts and hostesses.
Friday Frivolity: Sparkling summer socializing
In this season of weekend visits and summer socializing, the
modern mother will likely (hopefully) find herself at an adult dinner party. We
can only imagine the company will be amiable and the conversation
convivial. However, should our
modern mother find herself trapped by an obnoxious bore, or shifting in her
seat as the conversation dies amid nervous laughter, we then hope she has read
this recent piece from the New York Times: The Life (and Death) of the Party by
Bruce Feiler. Mr. Feiler not only offers ideas of how to extract oneself from a
monotonous tête-à-tête, but also suggests a few fun general questions, like,
“How many of Michelle Bachman’s 23 foster children will vote for her for
president?” We could add a few more, like, “if you had to emigrate and could
choose any non-English speaking country, which one would you choose?” Or, “What
was the first concert you ever went to?” Readers, do you have a favorite question for general
conversation?
Happy reading, and enjoy the weekend!
* image from the Style Files
So Crazy, It Just Might Work
Recently, a friend asked us how we might handle a sticky dinner party situation. Since we have learned that often people do not realize their behavior is impolite our suggestion is to be very clear in ones invitation regarding the tone of the evening. Please find our invitation prototype below.
Dear Friends,
Please come to a dinner at our house on Saturday the 17th. The dress is spiffy, the occasion is celebratory and the theme is no personal electronic devices whatsoever. Sadly this means you will not be able to "check-in" to our house on facebook as if it were the SoHo Grand. The first part of the evening will consist of cocktails. People will stand around chatting, sipping champagne and eating small savory delicacies. Introductions will be made and those guests already acquainted will catch up. A guest will be describing his vacation in Majorca not scrolling through photos on an 3.5" screen. You will not be able to snap a photo of the champagne, post it to facebook and tag all your friends who are also at the party - thereby making those friends not invited feel rotten. Dinner will follow where we will be serving a soup, fish, meat, salad, cheese and sweet course. There will be wine to match. Regrettably you will not be able to tweet about any of it in real time. You will spend the first course talking to the person on your left and the second, the person on your right. Left right, left right. You will not need to check your pants, purse, or jacket. There will be no urgent 10 p.m. Saturday night texts to be answered. You can just live in the moment and focus on what is going on around you. Should a question arise to which no one at the table knows the answer people will not be able to reach for the phone/personal entertainment device sitting (oh my!) in front of their bread plate. Instead the group will have to discuss, speculate, conjecture, hypothesize and think about the issue at hand. If you believe you can exist in such a disconnected (although to some it might seem incredibly connected) state for four or five hours, we would love to have you over.
Oh that one would ever dare...
Dear Friends,
Please come to a dinner at our house on Saturday the 17th. The dress is spiffy, the occasion is celebratory and the theme is no personal electronic devices whatsoever. Sadly this means you will not be able to "check-in" to our house on facebook as if it were the SoHo Grand. The first part of the evening will consist of cocktails. People will stand around chatting, sipping champagne and eating small savory delicacies. Introductions will be made and those guests already acquainted will catch up. A guest will be describing his vacation in Majorca not scrolling through photos on an 3.5" screen. You will not be able to snap a photo of the champagne, post it to facebook and tag all your friends who are also at the party - thereby making those friends not invited feel rotten. Dinner will follow where we will be serving a soup, fish, meat, salad, cheese and sweet course. There will be wine to match. Regrettably you will not be able to tweet about any of it in real time. You will spend the first course talking to the person on your left and the second, the person on your right. Left right, left right. You will not need to check your pants, purse, or jacket. There will be no urgent 10 p.m. Saturday night texts to be answered. You can just live in the moment and focus on what is going on around you. Should a question arise to which no one at the table knows the answer people will not be able to reach for the phone/personal entertainment device sitting (oh my!) in front of their bread plate. Instead the group will have to discuss, speculate, conjecture, hypothesize and think about the issue at hand. If you believe you can exist in such a disconnected (although to some it might seem incredibly connected) state for four or five hours, we would love to have you over.
Oh that one would ever dare...
And what do you do?
From time to time the well mannered mother may find herself at dinner party seated next to a young woman. This woman may be well educated, urban, well traveled and happy to talk about the differences between the vodka in Helsinki and Reykjavik through the entire soup course. In fact, she may be happy to talk about just about any aspect of her colorful life and give you her opinion on an incredible range of topics.
At first, the well mannered modern mother is just happy to be sitting down for the first time all day. But then it slowly begins to dawn on her that this Holly Golightly has failed to ask her a single question. About anything. At all.
As she turns to the older gentleman on her right for the fish course she wonders "Do I seem so old and uninteresting that it has not occurred to this young woman that my opinions might be additive? Relevant? Should I start throwing in my own bio? 'Back when I lived in that walk up in Paris' or 'When my company went public...' (tacky) Maybe I should torture her with stories of my adorable (ha!) children and school potlucks (painful). Does she think she knows me because I have three children and live outside the city? Or is this just an example of the over-praised, self-absorbed 'younger' generation?"
Perhaps at this point, the well mannered mother finds herself wondering which is worse: the sometimes sticky question of "What do you do?" or the presumption that you do nothing and have nothing to say?
As the well mannered mother sits there conversing with the nice older man on her right she may begin think how far away his life seems from hers right now. Retired, living by the water, going where he wants when he wants. Wow. Then it might hit her, to Miss Fancy Pants on her left the idea of being well, a well mannered modern mother probably seems about a billion zillion light years away. Ah ha! OK. She gets it. But in the meantime someone should really teach these kids some manners.
At first, the well mannered modern mother is just happy to be sitting down for the first time all day. But then it slowly begins to dawn on her that this Holly Golightly has failed to ask her a single question. About anything. At all.
As she turns to the older gentleman on her right for the fish course she wonders "Do I seem so old and uninteresting that it has not occurred to this young woman that my opinions might be additive? Relevant? Should I start throwing in my own bio? 'Back when I lived in that walk up in Paris' or 'When my company went public...' (tacky) Maybe I should torture her with stories of my adorable (ha!) children and school potlucks (painful). Does she think she knows me because I have three children and live outside the city? Or is this just an example of the over-praised, self-absorbed 'younger' generation?"
Perhaps at this point, the well mannered mother finds herself wondering which is worse: the sometimes sticky question of "What do you do?" or the presumption that you do nothing and have nothing to say?
As the well mannered mother sits there conversing with the nice older man on her right she may begin think how far away his life seems from hers right now. Retired, living by the water, going where he wants when he wants. Wow. Then it might hit her, to Miss Fancy Pants on her left the idea of being well, a well mannered modern mother probably seems about a billion zillion light years away. Ah ha! OK. She gets it. But in the meantime someone should really teach these kids some manners.
Mommy's feeding her broccoli to the dog. Why can't I?
Children are notoriously picky eaters. So, too, are some parents, according to a recent Wall Street Journal article, "No Age Limit on Picky Eating." Plain pasta, french fries, pizza, and cookies without nuts - is this the diet of a 5 year-old or a 35 year-old? The best quote from this story may be: "For reasons that aren't clear, almost all adult picky eaters like French fries and often chicken fingers, health experts say." Dear health experts, are the reasons really not clear? Maybe its because those foods are fatty, fried, salty and yes, sometimes, delicious? Don't forget that they're almost universally available in the U.S.
Modern mothers of picky eaters, don't despair! Your gentle authoress is one of the unmentioned majority of childhood picky eaters, having emerged from a childhood eating plain pasta, hotdogs, carrots, and cookies, to become an adult with an approximately normal diet. (Thanks, Mom!) Use this story as motivation to keep trying, fixing asparagus when the chances of your children eating it are almost non-existent, and helping your children stay relaxed and open to the possibility that someday, they may in fact like something new. Once your children are grown, one thing you don't want them to contend with is deflecting dinner invitations because of a fear of frisee.
Modern mothers of picky eaters, don't despair! Your gentle authoress is one of the unmentioned majority of childhood picky eaters, having emerged from a childhood eating plain pasta, hotdogs, carrots, and cookies, to become an adult with an approximately normal diet. (Thanks, Mom!) Use this story as motivation to keep trying, fixing asparagus when the chances of your children eating it are almost non-existent, and helping your children stay relaxed and open to the possibility that someday, they may in fact like something new. Once your children are grown, one thing you don't want them to contend with is deflecting dinner invitations because of a fear of frisee.
Social Discourse
From time to time the modern mother will need to talk to people who do not have, want or care about children. This may seem unfathomable to the average modern mother in these child-centric times. But really it's true. In fact, there is a whole section of society completely uninterested in children. In order to interface successfully with these people the well mannered modern mother should have a few topics of conversation in her repertoire unrelated to children and parenting. Popular adult topics of conversation include but are not limited to: political unrest in other countries, the slow food movement, the Stieg Larsson mystery, Google, Pandora, and anything from The Economist, The Atlantic or written by Malcolm Gladwell. While such discourse may seem anathema at first, with fortitude and perseverance the modern mother will soon discover (remember?) a world of topics and interests that have absolutely nothing to do with her offspring. Not only will this result in an increase of dinner party invitations but it may also help the well mannered modern mother and her children to remember that they are not the center of the world.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
