Save the family ritual, each family needs one

A couple of weeks ago, I did something I hadn’t done for nearly thirty years: I got out Cluedo, a detective board game. And began teaching my very reluctant children how to play it.  By the end of the evening, my seven-year-old son, twelve-year-old daughter, middle-aged husband and elderly mother had been totally sucked in. There was good natured yelling, accusations of cheating, plenty of trash talking and a victory dance. Since then, we have played Cluedo tournaments almost every day. Thus was born a new family ritual, one I hope I will be able to keep up for some time to come.

Family rituals are an endangered species these days. For many of us, especially those in nuclear families with working mothers, there is rarely a time we are all together, except in front of the TV. Often, every member of the family is glued to a screen: computer, TV, Blackberry or Nintendo. Once upon a time kids enjoyed the daily ritual of playing gully cricket or football outside, now they are herded to endless classes in piano, tennis and dance. Most of us still maintain religious rituals, but lately I have been craving a ritual that’s more fun, communicative and memorable. Hence, the Cluedo, or it could be any board game, really.

It was easier when the kids were younger and relatively easy to please. When my son was tiny, his favourite book was Dr Seuss’s nonsensical Green Eggs and Ham. What I remember most clearly about his toddlerhood is reading the lines “Do you like green eggs and ham? I do not like them, Sam-I-am” about ten times a day, making him giggle uncontrollably every single time. I remember pleading with him to eat his khichdi, only to be rebuffed with the immortal line “I do not like it here or there, I do not like it anywhere” and more giggles. And what makes it so special is that I have a woozy but distinct memory of my father reading those very lines to me, in a special “funny” voice, years and years ago. Dr Seuss is our particular family ritual, and now that my kids no longer let me read to them, I am preserving them for my grandchildren.

Of course, establishing family rituals and maintaining them is hard work. I remember many a time when I would almost rather have jumped off a cliff than read yet another fairy tale at bedtime. But things that seem difficult at the time often pay huge rewards later. Kids love routine. It makes them feel safe and secure, but it also makes grownups feel safe and secure. It’s the stuff of childhood memories, the lubricant that will get you through the tough times. In times of uncertainty, such as the current recession, rituals anchor and ground us.

As children get older and prefer to do their own thing, it’s often difficult to find an activity that the whole family enjoys. But families I know come up with their own strategies to include everyone.  One friend makes pancakes for her kids every Saturday. Others have a movie and pizza night every Friday, each family member taking it in turns to choose a movie.

Don’t underestimate the power of one-on one rituals though. For those of us with more than one child, a tailor-made ritual is a way to make that child feel special, and ease that ever present sibling rivalry. A friend regularly takes his rather sulky and uncommunicative teenage son on rafting trips down the Ganga. Just being away from home makes it easier for his son to open up, and has done wonders for their relationship. Another has a weekly beauty session with her daughter, which she says is a rare quiet moment in their otherwise sometimes tense relations.  “I can’t nag her to study when I have a face pack on,” she laughs.

It’s crucial that the family ritual be easy and relaxing, not in any way exhausting or that dreaded word, educational.  Modern life is tough enough without our rituals having to be tough too. Many rituals I have planned fell by the wayside because they were just too difficult, overambitious or unpopular. So, the plan I had to get my kids stamp collecting was defeated even before it started. (“Boring!” they cried when I got out my albums).  At one point, when all the parenting books I read recommended that families have dinner together, I tried to force joint dinners on my family. That didn’t work either, mainly because the kids were starving by 7.30 pm, but the grownups weren’t. These days I have decided not to force it, and just let it happen naturally.  My new downtime ritual, perfect after a stressful week, is watching Master Chef Australia with the whole family. Not educational or improving perhaps, but guaranteed to soothe the grumpiest mood.

Everything changes, and like the Dr Seuss stories that they now scorn, I know my children may not be happy to play Cluedo this time next year. I hope though, that they remember playing it, and that the memories, the jokes and the silliness keep them going when life gets tough, as it inevitably will.

Kavitha Rao is a freelance journalist and parent who detests parenting manuals. Her main parenting mantra: “This too shall pass.”