Ode to the Kitchen Table

Today my daughter napped, and I meal planned for the week. I put together my Walmart pickup order and made dinner while my son did crafts at the kitchen table.

He talked to me about his animal stickers. Then he wandered off to play with his trains independently. A few minutes later, he came back to tell me about the trains. Then back to play. Then back to talk about stickers again.

Nothing extraordinary happened.

But it felt important.

As I looked around our tiny apartment, my eyes landed on our kitchen table. I started thinking about how much life happens there. It’s the center of our home.

In college, I majored in psychology and took a few Marriage and Family Studies classes. I remember learning about how gathering around the dinner table was strongly connected to healthy, functional family systems. I understood it in theory. I knew not every family can gather every night because of work, schedules, and different stages of life.

But now I see it.

This afternoon, that table was a crafting station that let my son stay close to me while still playing independently. At dinner, it becomes the place where we talk about our days and make sure little bodies are getting the nutrients they need. (We’re currently in an “only sandwich” phase over here for my son.) It’s where we notice if someone isn’t eating enough. It’s where we practice communicating as a family.

It’s where we play games.
It’s where my husband and I have important conversations about our future.
It’s where plans are made and memories are built.

Really, what the kitchen table provides is a gathering place.

A place where we can simply be in the same room at the same time.

And today I had the thought:
If my kitchen table could talk, what would it say?

I think it would say, “You’re building something here.”