Breakfast

Breakfast

As a kid  I was  one of 11!  It was interesting to say the least and my Mom was a real manager, a micro manager.

Can you imagine feeding 11 kids? Can you imagine feeding 11 kids with different schedules? Probably not and neither could my Mom. Breakfast was a set time, 6:45 am breakfast. We had oatmeal or porridge from Monday thru Thursday and on Friday’s we would spruce it up a bit with French toast or Pancakes. The teens would be dressed and ready to walk out the door and the elementary kids (me), in pj’s. I loved standing over the heater and letting it blow my nightgown up Marilyn Monroe style. The table always looked beautiful. Placemats and dishes set. The food wasn’t always the most elegant (oatmeal gets boring)  but what was important was that we were together.

This was the begin of every day. All of us together. My parents were religious so we prayed. I didn’t keep with the religious lifestyle so we don’t pray but regardless of your belief starting the day together should be like a religion, something you do faithfully. We have breakfast together every morning. I love the conversations and that time together. My husband will flip through the paper, I will steal a page, we talk, plan and discuss our days. We are connected and we start our day feeling loved. More and more, I feel, I am like a species becoming extinct. Eating together is one of the biggest pleasures. I learned this from my mom. Thank you mom! I carry on your tradition with pride. May many more follow suit. Staying connected is essential.

—Allison