What Hospitality Looks Like as a Mom

table picture

Hospitality.

This is such a great word. For one, the word just sounds pretty (it’s especially fun to say in a British accent – go ahead and give it a try!), and it also carries some lovely connotations: freshly made beds, sparkly silverware, and chatting with friends over dinner and dessert. Hospitality means inviting people into your home, caring for them, feeding them, entertaining them and connecting with them. It’s a beautiful thing.

But for moms, hospitality can be difficult to put in practice. I mean, I genuinely want to invite people into my house and make them feel welcome, but how does that look when my carpet is full of crushed Cheerios, or I’m perpetually feeling the need to apologize for the layers of dust on my furniture?

Just before Christmas this year, a neighbor stopped by to drop off some goodies, and in that very moment — no joke — my son had just thrown up all of his lunch, I was still in my (now vomit-soaked) pajamas, our home was strewn about with tape and paper from gift wrapping, and my husband was working on some messy project right in the front room. We were all, “Oh hey… um, do you want to come in? Just step right over the puke.” Needless to say, those thoughtful neighbors were not greeted with the most hospitable of circumstances at our home that day.

But such moments are just part of the mom life sometimes, right?

So, what might it look like to practice hospitality — both for our families and for others — in the thick of mom life? How do we invite people in and make them feel welcome when everything can’t be perfect or controlled?

I don’t have great answers to these questions myself, but I do have several friends who think well about what it means to invite others into their homes while doing the work of mothering. They do it well, and they do it beautifully. I want to invite you to hear their stories and their perspectives on the topic for just a moment. Pretend we’re all sitting around with a cup of coffee — and a few crazy kids running around — and glean some of their wisdom.

***

From Jenn R., mom of 2:

“Hospitality is hard. So often, I want people to see the polished side of me: a clean house, delicious food and well-behaved kids. But when I take a step back and think about why I want people to see those things, I realize how selfish it is. It’s selfish because it’s not about the people entering my home, but about me and how well I can put on a show for others. I’ve learned that hospitality is about serving others, not impressing them. It’s about making people feel welcome. It’s about creating a context in which people can rest and connect.

“When the laundry’s only half folded, there are dishes in the sink, and my oldest is running around in his skivvies, it makes people breathe a little easier. “Oh, I’m not the only one!

“Now, that’s easier said than done. I always initially feel on guard and defensive. I want to make excuses for why my home is in such a messy state. But then I see the way people respond to me when my ‘real’ self is before them. There’s an invitation to leave the mask at the door and actually connect instead of compete.

“Of course, there’s nothing wrong with having a picked-up house, fresh muffins on the counter, and coffee brewing while your kid watches a little Daniel Tiger. It is probably loving to a friend when you have couch space for them to sit on and something yummy to eat. For me, it’s all about balance and knowing that I have to constantly check my motives when I’m hosting people. I’m here to serve people, connect with them, and invite them in. Sometimes that means inviting people into a mess and being okay with that.”

***

From Lindsay S., mom of 4:

“The family table has always been sacred to me. There is something special that takes place when you share a meal with people. My mom is also a mother of four, but when I was growing up, time stood still at 6:30: the family dinner hour. It was a priority. It was protected. It was consistent. This is one of the biggest values my own mother has passed down to me, so my husband and I have tried to model this form of hospitality to our children. The family dinner hour is also a protected one in our home. It’s not always pretty, it’s usually loud, and there is always a mess. I can often be heard saying as the kids ask to be excused if the 20 minutes of family dinner is even worth the chaos? Yes, it is. Because it communicates love in a really unique way: we all paused and made time for each other. We talked about things together that would have flown under the radar otherwise. We broke bread together.

“I use the term ‘family table’ generously, too. I love to invite people into my home and share a meal around our table. Sharing a meal with someone is a wonderful opportunity to see glimpses of others you wouldn’t otherwise. I used to be way more uptight about ‘entertaining,’ but my four kids have worn me down and given me a bit of perspective.

“First of all, my home is never clean because as I clean up one mess, the 1 1/2 year old has made another. So, I just go with it. There are always toys strewn about in our front foyer… as in where people ENTER our home. But when other people arrive, I’m not embarrassed that the toys are there; rather, I look at it as an invitation for them to put their kids down and let them play instead of being afraid that their kids will break or ruin something. I also used to always try and have the table set and the food complete. Not anymore, because that’s almost impossible for me to pull off these days! I oftentimes put a knife in my guests’ hands and ask them to cut fruit or toss the salad as I put the finishing touches on other foods. And you know what I’ve found: there is always good conversation to be had when prepping food together. It also puts people right at home as they are invited into the chaos.

“As my older kids have matured, I’ve tried to invite my kids into the chaos as well. I used to put on a TV show or something so I could get a bunch of things done for the dinner guests while they were distracted. I’ve had to retrain my thinking on this as my kids get older. I want my almost 9- and 7-year-old to be part of creating a home that is warm with hospitality. So, they don’t get off the hook as easily anymore. I say, ‘Hey David, could you set out the placemats?’ or ‘Annie, can you fold the napkins under the forks?’ There are certainly grunts and groans sometimes, but what I have found is they are excited to be a part of the party. They love to feel needed in the process.”

***

Aren’t these thoughts beautiful? I love that we can not only welcome people with delicious food or a space at the table, but also by offering our real lives and real selves.

Here’s to more often seeing messes as an invitation, rather than a barrier, and opening up our lives and homes to our neighbors.

Jenna
Jenna lives in Midtown with her husband and two kids (ages 6 and 4). She has an M.A. in English and too many overdue books at the library. She has been working with writers for over a decade, as a high school teacher, college instructor, and writing coach. She loves good coffee, serious conversation, and not-too-serious fiction.