I think family dinners are important. I like sitting down with the kids and hubby at the end of day away from them to actually enjoy each other’s company. Except that we don’t really get to enjoy each other’s company. Or sit down for that matter. 
Typical weeknight:
I am running around like crazy person trying to whip up some wonderfully delicious (and nutritious) meal without resorting to microwaved chicken nuggets.
Toddler enters kitchen and promptly declares “I don’t want that”. Me: “too bad”. Toddler: “wahh, wahh, wahh” Baby has now found my legs again and is hanging on for dear life lest she get thrown off in my crazed attempt to actually finish dinner.
Husband comes in to rescue me from baby. Baby cries. Toddler is still crying.
I announce dinner is ready and realize that I don’t have a bib out. Crap, no drinks either. Crap, what’s the baby going to eat?!
I frantically cut something up into tiny pieces so baby can feed herself (which she now insists on doing).
I put food on baby’s tray and she immediately puts so much into her mouth that she can hardly swallow. I move the rest of the food to the edge of her tray so she can’t reach it. Toddler still crying. Push toddler’s chair into the table and attach bib. Take two bites of food. Get toddler some dip (I can’t think of a dinner where there was not some kind of dip involved).
Give baby some more bites. Take two bites of food. Crap, no napkins.
Realize that baby needs small bottle. Crap, no bottle. Make bottle without letting baby see or she’ll start screaming bloody murder at the mere sight of the bottle. Take two bites. Toddler needs to use the potty. Take toddler to potty. Come back to table and husband has cleared my plate. Crap, still hungry.
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