Fast Food, Family Meals, and Finding the Middle Ground

My 14-year-old has a habit. Every single person who picks him up from school gets the same question before their seatbelt clicks: “So… can we stop at McDonalds?”

He’s not subtle. Some days it’s McDonald’s. Other days, Wendy’s. And if he’s feeling bold - Chick-fil-A or The International Dog House (swiss dong with extra pickle plus german mustard please). I can’t even pretend I don’t get it. I’ve been that mom pulling into the drive-thru at 8:30 p.m. after a long day, half convincing myself that Starry counts as hydration and Taco Bell counts as self-care.

We all have those nights.

But here’s where I’ve started drawing a line. If he’s eating a full meal in the car and skipping family dinner later, I pause. Because even though our family isn’t perfect with dinners (and honestly, who is?), sitting together when we can matters more than whatever we’re eating.

Our Real Rhythm: We have a loose routine. Family meals on Mondays, Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays.

Those are our “home base” nights. The rest of the week? It’s a roll of dice. Babysitters, frozen pizzas, ramen, quick grab-and-go stuff.

My husband, who’s Type 1 diabetic, has to stay pretty consistent with meal times, so we usually eat between 5:00 and 5:30. That rhythm helps everyone. In fact, I’ve noticed my kids eat better when I skip after-school snacks and just serve dinner early - sometimes as early as 4:15. They’re starving then, and that’s when the broccoli has its best shot at being eaten.

The Value of Together: There’s something wonderful about eating at the same table.

For us, that table has seen it all - quick spaghetti nights, glue, paint, leftovers, pumpkin carving, pizza boxes, laughter, tears, and all kinds of conversations.

The other night, our middle kiddo launched into a long story about something funny that happened at school. It was full of inside jokes only she found hilarious and, honestly, had no real ending. But it didn’t need one. We were all there - listening, interrupting, laughing, even arguing a little. It was messy and loud and perfectly us. Together.

That’s the point. The meal itself doesn’t matter nearly as much as the shared time. When we eat together, we reconnect. The screens go down (it’s a dinner table rule). Everyone gets to be seen and heard.

Letting Go of the Guilt: We live in a time when we can order anything to our door, eat in our cars, or scroll while chewing - and it’s easy to forget that food used to be slower.

I’m not here to romanticize the “good old days,” but I am saying that guilt isn’t feeding anyone.

I’ve had to learn that “doing my best” looks different every week. Some weeks I cook with intention and plan ahead. Some weeks, I just keep us alive until Friday. Both count.

So the next time you’re tempted to shame yourself for grabbing drive-thru, remember: you’re still feeding your family.

You’re still showing up.

This week, pick one meal to protect with family time. It doesn’t have to be fancy - just shared. Turn off the TV, light a candle if you want to make it special (and automatically quieter), and eat together. That’s the real nourishment.