The NY Times just recently published an article about family dinners and a study that said teens who eat with their families less than three times a week are more susceptible to drug and other substance abuse.  The article was called The Guilt Trip Casserole and is causing a public outcry in the mom blogosphere. Working mothers are tired of being blamed for everything. Obesity. Drug addiction. Video game addiction. School dropouts. You name it. The women in the article reasoned they had no choice but to eat takeout in the car while driving their kids to their numerous after school activities.

My  questions are: Why are only women being targeted? Can’t men cook dinner and/or drive the kids around? And why do the kids have so many after school activities? Why can’t the kids walk home? Do we live in such a sprawling society that there are no more neighborhood schools within walking distance? No community support for carpooling? Ever heard of a crock pot? Or Rachel Ray’s 30 minute meals? What about putting the kids to work? My mom worked full time with five kids and when we got home from school (we walked home or took the bus) she would call us and tell us what to do. Set the table. Make the salad. Bread the chicken cutlets. I always say that I learned how to cook over the phone.

The bigger problem is that our culture is obsessed with over-scheduling kids to the point that they have absolutely no free time. Life has become like the proverbial hamster wheel and we can’t get off. Maybe my kids are slackers, but they are not that busy. Eva has soccer two days a week after school. She also wants to take dance lessons and I said she could do that when soccer is over. Not at the same time. It is too much. Last night when she got home from practice she and Cheryl worked on  their dance routine in her room. Eva is also teaching herself how to juggle.  Sophia did her homework and jumped on the trampoline. Mark played his guitar and watched the baseball game. My kids were home at a reasonable hour.  I cooked dinner and we ate it together. Grant it, it was not an elaborate meal, just boiled pierogies and jarred applesauce, and we ate at the kitchen counter instead of the dining room table, but it wasn’t fast food in the back of the station wagon either. And I do this alone with a husband who travels. The kids pitch in. They do the dishes, walk the dog, fold laundry and Sophia, my right arm, helps with the driving. I also have a great support network of friends who help out when needed.  I learned this from my mother. She knew how to delegate  and that’s the secret.