Monday, April 20, 2009

Been There Done That!

Today was gorgeous! It was close to 80 degrees and no wind. So, I called my friend and asked her if she wanted to meet us at the park. She has a son that is 13 months old. We had fun at the park, and then decided to go get a bite to eat. Of course we were all starving by the time we got to the restaurant, and our waitress took a long time to ask for our order. So the baby started fussing, and I had to nurse her. Then Byron started in on his "I can't sit still" routine. I wanted to scream at the waitress "BRING US FOOD OR SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES." She finally came and took our order, and brought out the kids soup. Once we started eating the kids calmed down, so we could chat and eat our salads.
When I say calm down it is a relative term according to age. My friend's son is as that age where he throws everything and likes to bang on the table. He got more food on the floor than in his mouth, and decided to take a loud poo while we were eating. You know the usual 13 month stuff! So throughout the meal I kept chuckling about the things he was doing, and assuring her it wasn't a big deal. As moms we have all been there! We get that anxious feeling that everyone in the restaurant is looking at our child and saying "she's a horrible mother!" We're afraid that at any moment the record will scratch to a stop and the whole restaurant will say, in unison, "get that kid out of here."
We've all been there, so I couldn't help but laugh a little. Not because I think it's funny that she is embarrassed, but because I've been embarrassed too. I've wanted to crawl under the table or just walk away and say "I don't know who's kid that is...jeez what a brat!" My husband and I took to leaving an extra big tip when our son created a huge mess of crumpled and spit out food on the floor or if he was just being exceptionally difficult.
It's just par for the course! My time is coming again in less than a year, but I think this time I'll be too tired to care. I'll probably be glad that we're out to eat so someone else can clean up the spit up food. Although, the dogs do a pretty darn good job. My little Hoovers as I call them.