A lot of the parenting choices I make are driven by what I experienced as a classroom teacher for ten years. Why is it that some of my students could literally funnel hours of concentration into creative snapchat stories, but when it came to simple, genuine conversations, I felt like I was sitting opposite Ozzy Osbourne after a week long bender. Now…I am no child development expert. Nor do I claim that my own children are the epitome of behavioral perfection. In fact, more often than not, I am that quintessential mom in Target offering her child just about everything shy of Disney on Ice in our living room just to make it through the diaper aisle. I’m more of a “choose your battles kind of mom”. I don’t have a theory on parenting. I feel like whatever style parents choose could be backed by a google search for something like, “Why it’s ok to let your kids eat 10 popsicles every day”. Trust me. Somewhere on the world wide web there’s a researcher who proved that to be true. All I really do is think about my children in the future, as grown teenagers, and then adults, and I think about the social and moral skills I hope they learn and use in everyday life. Then I attempt to make decisions based on that.

So when it comes to deciding between heading through a drive through for the third time in a week, or teaching them basic social manners and communication skills, I choose the latter. I’m not asking for divine rhetorical abilities, or for them to win any public speaking awards.  It’s really pretty simple. I want them to be able to communicate, with clarity, a simple conversation and/or request with other humans. For more than 60 seconds. Without the aid of a cell phone as a distraction. While also looking them in the eye. I like to call it the,Would you like fries with that? training.

Two or three times a month, Grant and I have lunch together at the golden arches, and each week the task is simple. He practices opening the door for me (and any other lunch goers), he greets the employees and chats with them about his day, orders his own food, and carries his tray to his favorite seat which is ALWAYS the high top table and stools. Because why would a 3 ½ year old boy want to be at a normal seating level while consuming food? He says grace and we engage in mommy son conversation usually consisting of the makes and models of all the cars in the lot and which ones are our favorites. Then we go back and forth telling made up stories and he reminds me that I have to tell two before he tells one. He then wanders around chatting with other patrons, cleans up our trash, says goodbye to his now adoring McDonald’s employees, resumes his door opening duties, and off we go.

If you’re currently unimpressed with this method, then I did what I set out to do. Because It’s about the little things. It’s about spending time with this precious little boy while also teaching him that men can still hold doors open for ladies, it’s ok to pray in public, conversations can happen without the need to text, and the most important forms of “please and thank you’s” should go to the people whose occupations are deemed the most unworthy by society. Because let’s face it, it’s those trade skills that are gonna be the most valuable when the world goes down the drain. It’s about manners, plain and simple, because they don’t come naturally to everyone. I cannot tell you how many times Grant is ignored or met with irritation when he walks by a table and says hello, and not just at McDonald’s. I have a chatty kid and whether it’s Target or Toys R Us, there are always a few people (and I’m talking about adults here) who act like having a 7 second conversation with a little boy is eating away at their precious time. He’s three people. This is the exact kind of behavior I am hoping to avoid in the future with my kids.

Some days go smoother and others which is why I choose McDonald’s. We aren’t going for a healthy carb to fat ratio here, I’m picking an environment that won’t kick me out if something gets broken, spilled, or knocked over. Baby steps. And trust me, my kids aren’t perfect. Look for the future blog post about the time we put Grant in a soccer league when he was two. And because I know some people are reading this with judgy eyes and wondering about the little fingers grasping the very large soda in the feature image. Yes, I do share a large diet coke with my kid on occasion at these outings. I have also been known to put some in a sippy cup for Mack when she’s angry in the car and I am concerned about my eardrums. Again. I choose my battles.

Oh, and if you’re wondering why Mack does not participate in this complex parenting approach. Well. Homegirl hasn’t quite made it past making it through five minutes at our own dinner table. But she will get there. And I can’t wait for those moments when they come. Right now we are working on why it’s not safe to scale the fridge or eat rocks from the neighbors yard. Baby steps.