Today was my day off work and, per usual, I had a ton of errands to run. DB and I absolutely loathe running errands on the weekend – with the exception of grocery shopping – so I try to cram as many as I can into my day off. This usually means I leave the house around 8:30 and get home around 3:00 on my “days off.”
For some reason unbeknownst to me, I decided to schlep the Littlest Brewster along with me today, rather than dropping her off at daycare. That wasn’t the “not fun” part, however. We actually had a pretty good time going places.
The “not fun” part was when we decided to go and have lunch with Daddy.
Eating out with LB used to be awesome. She’d hang out in the high chair, nibble the bits you gave her, flirt with all the strangers, and leave you (relatively) in peace to eat your meal at a pace that could be called human, if not leisurely.
Not so anymore, my friends. ((With the notable exception of Saturday breakfast. She’s still really good at Saturday breakfast, knock on wood.))
Now it’s a race to order her food and get it before she starts freaking out because she’s hungry. Then you have to hope that a) she likes what she gets and doesn’t decide to throw it on the floor and b) that it takes her long enough to eat it that you can eat your meal before she’s done with being confined to the high chair. So basically, you inhale your meal while feeding her with one hand and keeping her from throwing food or picking up inappropriate things with the other. This leaves no hands free for cutting your own food, so let’s hope you ordered something that doesn’t require utensils or concentration to eat. Even better if you don’t even need to chew it. The best would be if you could unhinge your jaw like a python and thus get an entire meal in in one fell swoop, leaving you free to corral your strong-willed toddler.
Don’t get me wrong – we’re not letting her throw tantrums in the middle of a restaurant. I also don’t think it’s lack of table manners or proper training or whatever you would call it if this were a much older child behaving like this. ((That is a huge pet peeve of mine. When you see an 8 or 10 or 12 year old acting like an asshole in a restaurant and their parents just let them.))
I think that the Littlest Brewster is 13 months old and full of energy and curiosity. And when we’re out in public, she would much rather be walking around and investigating things than sitting in a high chair and staring at Mom and Dad.
But, after today, I think the DreadBrewer and I might be done with trying to have lunch or dinner out with the Littlest Brewster, if only for a bit.
Sigh. At least we still have our Saturday tradition…