Keeping the family dinner table conversational has always been a priority for me. In a world where screens dominate our attention and busy schedules keep us rushing from one task to the next, the simple act of sitting down for a meal together and actually talking feels more important than ever. I’ve realized that the family dinner table isn’t just about eating—it’s about connecting, sharing, and creating memories.
I didn’t always think this way. Growing up, family dinners were often rushed or filled with distractions. My parents both worked long hours, and by the time we sat down to eat, everyone was exhausted. Conversations were limited, and more often than not, the TV in the background stole the spotlight. While those dinners were still nice in their own way, I started to notice something different as I grew older. The families I admired—families that seemed really close-knit—often had one thing in common: they talked at the table.
When I started my own family, I knew I wanted to do things differently. I didn’t want our dinner table to feel like a chore or a pit stop before everyone scattered to their own corners of the house. I wanted it to be a place where we could reconnect and really listen to each other. But let me tell you, it wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be.
The first challenge was, of course, the screens. Kids naturally gravitate toward their devices, and honestly, so do adults. After a long day, zoning out on a phone feels easier than coming up with something meaningful to say. So, we set a rule: no phones at the table. At first, it was met with resistance. My kids grumbled, and even I felt a pang of separation anxiety from my phone. But after a few days, something amazing happened—the silence at the table started to fill with conversation.
Once we cleared away the distractions, the next challenge was figuring out what to talk about. Let’s be real: starting conversations can feel awkward, especially if you’re not used to it. So, I got creative. I introduced a little game called "Highs and Lows." Each person takes a turn sharing the best part of their day (their high) and the most challenging part (their low). It’s simple, but it works. My kids love it, and it opens the door to deeper conversations without feeling forced.
Another thing that helped was making the table a judgment-free zone. Kids—and adults—are more likely to open up when they feel safe from criticism. I try to approach their stories with curiosity instead of judgment, even if I disagree with what they’re saying. For example, when my teenager shared some questionable opinions about school rules, I resisted the urge to lecture and instead asked, “Why do you feel that way?” The result? A genuine conversation, not an argument.
Over time, these small efforts began to shift the atmosphere at our dinner table. It went from a place where we simply ate to a space where we laughed, shared, and sometimes even debated. I learned things about my kids that I might not have known otherwise—like my youngest’s newfound love for drawing or my oldest’s struggles with a difficult friendship. These moments of connection are priceless, and they remind me why this effort is so worth it.
Of course, not every dinner is magical. There are still days when someone’s in a bad mood or when conversation feels forced. But I’ve learned to embrace those moments, too. The point isn’t perfection—it’s showing up. Just by making the effort to keep the table conversational, I’m sending a message to my family: “I care about you, and I want to hear what you have to say.”
So, if you’re looking to make your family dinners more conversational, my advice is simple: start small. Set a no-phone rule, introduce a game like "Highs and Lows," and create an atmosphere of openness. It might feel awkward at first, but stick with it. Over time, you’ll find that the dinner table becomes more than a place to eat—it becomes a place to connect.
In a world that pulls us in so many directions, these moments of connection matter more than ever. Keeping the family dinner table conversational isn’t just about talking—it’s about listening, understanding, and strengthening the bonds that matter most. And trust me, it’s worth every effort.
