First of all, I’m sure you figured out that the last post was Andrew’s doing, as I am not quite the stats nerd that he is. However, I did have fun at those sites.
Now I will explain the title of this blog.
In short, our lives are officially over.
Last night, Andrew and I met up with his boss Drew in Georgetown. He chose a nice chic Italian restaurant off Wisconsin Avenue with a trendy bar, open kitchen, etc. that was very nice but also somewhat noisy in the hopes that a 5-month-old baby would not be noticed. Unfortunately, our 5-month-old baby was definitely noticed, and not in the “oh, your baby is so precious!” way. More like the “I can’t believe you are ruining my dinner with that noisy brat” way. I knew as soon as we walked into the restaurant that we were going to have a problem, even more so when I took Milo into the ladies room to change him before we sat down to dinner only to find that not only was a changing table missing, but there wasn’t even a sink to change him on (the sinks were fancy bowls with no counter top). Good old floor had to do. But I digress…
You might be asking, why wouldn’t we plan for this type of situation? Such a plan involving a precocious baby takes strategy and serious thought… which I thought we had covered. For instance, dinner was planned for 7pm, when Milo usually falls asleep. So I made sure to tire the little guy out, make him as comfortable as possible, change him, feed him, and play with him before the restaurant in the hopes that he would sleep blissfully through dinner (as he has many times before) and awaken for another feeding before we set out on the 1 1/2 hour drive home. The plan seemed like it might work, as Milo slept for the first 20 minutes of the meal (just long enough for me to enjoy my salad). Then, all hell broke loose. Mommy’s little monster woke up with a fury and would not have any of it. His face turned red, he squealed with anger. He cried, fussed, and whined so much that I had to retire to the 5×5 square foot ladies room with him for the majority of the meal to avoid the dirty looks from the couple seated behind Andrew, and the party of 3 seated beside us on the other side who kept turning around to glare at all of us. I tried feeding him (in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet… gross, but there was no way I was going to attempt to breastfeed him out in the open- who knows what kind of looks I would have gotten then), rocking him, everything! to no avail. I mean, this was a DISASTROUS night. It was so bad that Andrew and I discussed what he would do if he got fired the next morning. So bad that I fear that was the first and last time we will ever be invited to a social function by Drew. It was so bad that we sat in silence (from exhaustion and utter disbelief) for the entire car ride home. It was so bad that I was in awe of our little man. He was so bad, it was impressive.
Some of you may be wondering why, oh why, hadn’t we just left him with a sitter? Why had we not dropped him off for a couple of hours at Ryan & Kristin’s house and enjoyed a night out on the town with just the grown-ups? We would love to, but he is not making it easy on us. Milo refuses a bottle. We have tried different bottles, different nipples, different techniques, times of day…. he just gags and screams. So, we can’t leave him for more than a few hours. It would be torture to whoever we left him with. Hmmmm… anyone have any enemies out there?
So we have come to the conclusion that our lives are officially over. Only Chi-Chi’s and Don Pablo’s for us from now on. No more swank little restaurants and bars. Gone are the days when we can cart around a sound asleep newborn like he is an extra bag. I plan to write an extensive apology to Drew (who has probably decided to become sterilized after last night). But other than that? I’m not even that upset. I loved coming home and snuggling up to our little guy, feeding him and loving him, putting him to bed. I missed our routine nighttime bath last night, and our story time. Yes, going out to dinner is great, but for a little while, I will enjoy our little monster at home, thank you very much.
Lauren, I believe I have been to that Italian place in Georgetown before. We took Elizabeth there when she was between 7-9 months old to dine with my aunt and uncle. Fortunately, we had a much different experience. We hung out w/ a baby at the bar until our table was ready. We got some weird looks, and some half smiles, but Elizabeth munched on little bread sticks while we waited. I was hoping she would rack out, since we had planned an 8pm dinner… of course she didn’t, but at least she stayed pleasant/delirious while eating more breadsticks and sucking on a bottle. Plus, my aunt was more than happy to hold her and fuss over her. Overall, we still try to avoid the swanky places w/ the kids and stick to local hangouts or chain restaurants. Ryan and I actually went out to on a date last night, but we would love to babysit Milo sometime, our girls will whip him into shape. He will be drinking out of a bottle and changing his own diaper by the end of the evening.
P.S. I can relate to diaper changes on public restroom floors, and breastfeeding on a toilet.
I agree with Kristin, you’re not really tested in motherhood until you’ve changed a diaper on the floor of a swanky restaurant (after they’ve sneered at you for even suggesting you need a highchair, which they don’t have). Or, after you’ve pumped standing up in the handicap stall of an airport bathroom while wearing your child in a baby-bijorn. Get take out.
I’ll bet he would have LOVED a Cosmopolitan…
Mom