The Chick-Fil-A Parenting Group

As a parent, your dining options can feel as limited as a toddler's attention span. Especially if you have small children. Enter the magical land of restaurants that cater to parents like us. In my town, it's Chick-Fil-A, where I always hope to snag a seat near the play area. It's like winning the parenting lottery.

You'll pass fellow parents, exchanging knowing smiles over hilarious kid antics. Last week, a little boy stood up and announced to the entire room as his mom and sister headed to the bathroom, "MAMA! I HAVE TO GO POTTY!"

His dad chuckled nervously, glancing around. I threw him a lifeline, saying, "We're all in the same boat." We shared a laugh, and I returned to my meal, silently giving the little guy a standing ovation for his potty-training skills.

And we should give ourselves a round of applause for braving the public spectacle that is dining with kids. I spotted another mom with her two boys and a baby. She looked like she'd rather be anywhere else, but hey, she's out of the house with her three kids. Surviving a meal without a meltdown—by you or your kids—is a victory.

If you've been to Chick-Fil-A, you'll notice the gathering of parents near the glassed-in playroom (or at least that's how it is at our Chick-Fil-A). The restaurant makes ordering a breeze. Just walk in, snag a table in the "parents with small kids" zone, and order without leaving your seat.

My 5-year-old can open the playroom door, so off she goes to run, climb, and slide. Meanwhile, the baby hangs with me, expressing his displeasure if the food takes too long. YouTube's Dancing Fruit is my secret weapon to calm him while we wait.

When the food arrives, my girl dashes out of the playroom to join us. Chick-Fil-A's hand sanitizing wipes are pure genius. I grab them before ordering so I'm ready for the kid-prep routine. Plastic table coverings go down, food is distributed. Fortunately, the baby starts with fruit, then chicken nuggets, and occasionally a fry with milk. The 5-year-old insists on the deluxe sandwich meal. We negotiate drinks: milk if she wants ice cream, lemonade if she doesn't. It's the art of compromise—just like dining at Chick-Fil-A. The kids are happy to eat and play, and parents are happy that the kids are fed and happy.

Come one, come all—we're all in this together!

--Amber