When I was growing up, our family aimed to have a proper sit-down dinner 6 nights a week. My father would come home, we’d each sit in our regular spots at the dinner table, and as we ate, my sisters and I would recount what we’d done that day, what went well, what didn’t, the funniest thing that had happened, and so on. It was a very reassuring, anchoring, family routine.
That said… on Friday nights my father would play Bridge with his friend. I don’t know a lot about the card game, but I believe you play it with a regular partner, and I suspect that you accumulate points from week to week. What I do know is that my father looked forward to those nights, and sneakily – so did we – because my mother would give herself the night off from cooking. Instead of a ‘formal’ meal, we would buy take away fish and chips and sit in front of the TV, eating dinner off our laps while we watched a movie. It felt very casual, carefree, even reckless by comparison to how we ate dinner for the rest of the week.
Fast forward to when I had a family of my own. As much as possible, we too aim to have a regular sit-down meal as many nights a week as we can. We too use the get-together to engage in group conversations, share experiences, make plans, and so on. But like my childhood, when my two daughters were young, there was one night a week that we regularly skipped sit-down dinners: the night the girls had their swimming lessons. The hour at the pool was a combination of squad-like-laps with some technique advice throw in. It meant that the girls came home exhausted and hungry. As a result, we developed a routine we called “breakfast for dinner” in which the girls got to eat dinner in front of the TV.
The ‘breakfast’ that I served them was like those ‘Big Breakfasts’ you get at a café; some combination of bacon, eggs, sausages, grilled mushrooms or tomatoes, toast, baked beans… whatever was on hand that night. Granted, we didn’t always tick all the boxes in terms of the 5 food groups, but the ‘comfort food’ wasn’t terrible. Besides, we all enjoyed the freedom of the arrangement; it worked well for us.
Why am I telling you this? I’m nearly there…
One day, the girls and I were standing beside the pool at lesson-end and having a conversation about going home for ‘breakfast’ in front of another mother. Well! Didn’t she have a lot to say on the matter. I’m sure she was well-intentioned, but the busy-nosed sour-puss gave me a lecture (in front of my kids) about poor parenting choices, the lack of nutrition in breakfast foods, and hinted at my laziness, my neglect…
In the blink of an eye, those old friends of mine I often talk about (shame and guilt) crept onto my shoulders and positioned themselves, one at each ear, ready to add their two cents to the conversation. This time, however, before the Itty Bitty Sh!tty Committee that lives in my head could join in and bring me down, I remembered something that a preschool teacher once told me about nutrition and kids:
“Don’t worry about what kids eat in a single meal – it’s not that important – instead, think about what they’ve eaten over the course of the day, or even over the whole week – that’s what you need to be mindful of, that’s what you’re better off judging.”
In other words, if your kid goes to a party and eats so much popcorn and candy they’re too full to eat dinner, sure, it’s not a great outcome, but hey, it’s not the end of the world if they ate a fruit salad for breakfast or a cheese sandwich for lunch…. They’re going to survive.
My girls are well fed on (mostly) healthy and nutritious foods throughout any given week – ‘breakfast for dinner’ is not a big deal, and certainly not neglect.
Fast forward again to when I was at my sickest about a year ago. Migraine attacks (for me) include a nasty combination of exhaustion and nausea – you need to eat to build up your strength, but you also feel ill at the thought of eating. My daily diet tended to look a lot like perpetual breakfasts or morning teas; lots of buttered toast or porridge, tea and biscuits, an apple if I was lucky, perhaps the occasional can of soda. Anything that could be prepared in less than 5 minutes and consumed in another 5. 10 minutes, and then I could get back to bed; perfect.
I confess, there were times when my mind played the role of the sour-puss lady and felt compelled to point out that with this sort of diet “it’s no wonder you’re sick, you will never heal, you probably don’t deserve to heal…”
Mostly however, I remembered that over my lifetime I’ve done my best to eat as healthy as possible. Moreover, the comfort food I ate on those sick days was an arrangement that worked well for me. Instead of comparing myself to some impossible nutritional-ideal, or feeling guilty and ashamed, I would reply to my inner dialogue with the words that I wished I’d been brave enough to tell the sour-puss: “take your foot out of your mouth, eat some humble pie, then put a sock in it.”
Take care people – you’re doing the best you can, and that’s amazing!
Linda x
[PS – for the sake of absolute honesty, I feel compelled to add a quick reality check – I love the idea of being a new, big and brave version of myself, but I could NEVER speak to someone like that (even an old sour-puss who deserved it!)]
The Mindful Migraine 
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