are things complicated yet?

Adventures in Baby-Wrangling: Going Out for Dinner

Last night we decided to go to a Tex-Mex place that we hadn't been to in years.  It wasn't very good a few years ago, but we'd heard of people who liked it these days so we decided to give it another shot.  Supporting local business and all that.

The food had not improved.  It was actually pretty bad.  The margaritas were even bad.  (And people, if I'm telling you this, THAT'S SAYING SOMETHING.)

The staff, while friendly, came by our table about every two minutes to ask how everything was.  Our server, the manager, the hostess, another server, the hostess again, maybe a cook, someone else official looking, the manager again....It was like FREAKING STOP AND LET ME EAT DAMMIT.  Go away!

All the while, we are doing the baby-wrangling thing with Claire in a high-chair and keeping her occupied with a stream of Cheerios and black beans.  Then I bust out a container of cereal and fruit and spoon feed her THAT while I try to carry on a conversation with my husband, eat my own dinner and assure the very inquisitive staff that YES, things are FINE. 

(It's not as if Claire was being wild and crazy and that was what necessitated the frequent interruptions.  She was being a total doll.)

After we paid our $35 and got back in the hot car (It's 96 degrees at 8:30 tonight), Claire promptly fell asleep and ten minutes later we had to wake her up when we got home, bath time, pajamas, books, lights out.

A round of bottle washing, tiny-tupperware washing, packing lunches for everyone tomorrow and general clean-up followed.  We had a fun discovery when I realized an un-drunk bottle of milk had not made it into the fridge when I got home and had leaked all over the inside of her lunch cooler, creating a really stinky, awful mess. 

In a moment of "The Baby's Dishes are Killing Me Slowly," Chris said, "Can we just throw it away?"

And just like that, the evening had vanished before my eyes.  

***

Taking Claire out to eat used to be really easy.  She was compartmentalized in her carrier and she would often slumber peacefully while Chris and I ate nachos and smugly congratulated ourselves about being Awesome Parents who actually leave the house with an infant. 

We wondered, "What's the big deal?  All those other parents are just 'fraidy cats.  This is simple!  Our baby is awesome."

HA HA HA HA HA.

Now that Claire is smarter and knows that sitting in one place isn't very fun she is MUCH more difficult to keep entertained in one place for more than 3 minutes at a time.  Taking her to a restaurant, while not traumatic by any stretch, is kind of a lot of work.  Going out to eat isn't so much enjoyable as it is a way to fill empty bellies.

To be honest, I really hate the idea of PAYING for the privilege of creating all that work for myself.  It's far easier to stay at home than go through the process of getting ready to go out (packing snacks, her placemat, bibs, toys), being out (wrangling her in the chair, keeping her occupied, making sure she doesn't choke, keeping her happy and not screamy, feeding her HER meal) and then coming home past her bedtime when she's really good and tired (but still needs a bath, diaper change, pajamas and then winding down for bed). 

During all of that, I forget to have fun and enjoy being out with my husband.  It's so easy to get tunnel vision and focus way too much on Claire when we're out.  I regularly drop sentences mid-thought.  And it's not just me!  We have this habit of staring at her and thinking, "She is just fantastic."  We talk to each other, but we spend a lot of time gawking at our child too.

I can't help but think that if we had just kept our butts at home on Monday and had cereal for dinner I'd be

1) skinnier (!)

2) a little more relaxed because I have some extra time

3) happier because the time spent with the fam tonight was high quality

I suppose that part of the weirdness here is that since I go to the office for most of the day, when I am with Claire I want to actually be WITH her and not just in the same room.  I want to interact with her and savor all of her grins and giggles and see what she's discovered her hands can do today. 

When we're at a bad Tex-Mex place and I'm trying to keep my hot plate and pointy fork away from her grabby hands, while carrying on a conversation with the entire staff about the quality of my dining experience, plus catching up with Chris, I feel a little cheated on the Quality Time Index.  Yes, I'm still spending time with her and we DO have to eat dinner every night, but it's a 90 minute frazzled event if we go out and 20 enjoyable minutes if we stay in.

In my world of limited face time, that's a lot.  She goes to bed at 7.

My new thinking is that we're not going out to dinner any more during the week unless we really want whatever is on the menu.  The baby-wrangling and shortened evening is SO not worth it.  

7 quick takes

1.  Back when I was pregnant and had gobs of free time (FREE TIME, HOW I MISS THEE) I got super industrious with Claire's baby book.  I had every stinking part of pregnancy documented before she was born and now that the baby, the main topic, is here I haven't touched it again.  I haven't even been very good at keeping track of interesting dates and milestones.

Part of it is that I am just so darn grateful to get through every day. I don't have time to worry about the past or future.  I am very focused on the present right now.

I am grateful when Claire only wakes up once in the middle of the night.  I am grateful when she sleeps in past 5.  I am grateful when she plays happily on the floor while I get dressed.  I am grateful when I get tasks accomplished at work and can go home with a clear brain.  I am grateful for the 4 hours I get with Claire in the afternoons before she conks out at 7.  I am grateful that I get my family fed, cleaned up and to bed every night without major incident or trauma.

And after all of that?  I have no time for stupid baby books.  Maybe I'll finish it when she goes to college.  The baby book can bite me.

2.  I'm going to make cookies tonight.  M&M cookies.  All that recall talk has my brain thinking, "cooookayyyys."  And yes, I WILL be eating some of the batter.  I'm dangerous like that.

3.  My mother in law regularly sends me various flavors of LUSH bath bombs and I love her so very much for this.  Before I had a baby I was not a bath person.  Sure, I enjoyed a bath every once in a while but I was by no means A Bath Kind Of Girl.

I am now.  And I REALLY AM now that I know about LUSH bath bombs and they keep showing up for free.  There is something fantastic about sitting in a steamy, yummy smelling room with the door closed and having some personal quiet time that relaxes me completely.

(Also, doing squats with my new 20 pound free weight makes my knees and back hurt sometimes and hot water is nice for that.)

Last time she sent a Vanilla Fountain.  LOVE.

4. Claire is crawling.  Quickly.  She is so fast it makes my heart skip a beat.  She is pulling up on everything in sight and suddenly my home is a giant death trap full of poison. 

I look at her and she's not a baby any more.  They moved her to the Toddler room at day care.  Every day when I check her in it says, "Claire/Toddler."  Every day I look at it and think they have made a mistake.  My baby is not a toddler!

5.  Who does North Korea think they are anyway?  Do they really think they're going to come out on top if they start sending missiles to Hawaii?  How do they see that situation ending favorably??  I truly don't think they've thought this one through.  They have only a few maybe-functioning missiles and we have...A LOT MORE THAN THAT.

6.  The Jonas Brothers live like, 5 miles from me and I keep expecting to see them at the grocery store since they are playing a concert tonight in town.  I've been looking for them at Starbucks, at restaurants, at shops and at stoplights.  All week I've been ready with my iPhone to snap a picture.  And no Jonas Brothers.  It would appear that my potential brush with celebrity this week is a bust.

7.  I am so lame I am posting this on Saturday.  Again. 

7 quick takes - one day late, but I was hiding in a closet from a tornado so I think it's okay

1.  Claire found her "MMMMM" sound.  At first she was just saying "mmmmm" after every bite, which was pretty funny on its own.  Next day she began with the,

"Ma!  MAAAAA!  MMMMMMMMAAAAAA!  Mama!  Mama! MAMAMAMAMAMAMAMA!!!"

It's pretty much the best fake-word I've ever heard.

She definitely doesn't know what it means, but I really don't care.  My heart lights up with neon every time she says it.  Since she has just discovered this new sound, right now it's her favorite and we hear it a lot. 

2.  I bought a giant bag of baby clothes yesterday at the Gymboree and Carter's outlet for less than $50.  All 18 - 24 month stuff for next summer and not a single item cost more than $4.  Then I wanted to go to the Ann Taylor Loft outlet (which was curiously enough in-between Carter's and Gymboree) and just then, at that EXACT moment when I saw the $9.99 rack, she threw a huge fit about being in the stroller.  Instead of torturing everyone within earshot I elected to leave and call it a day.  I think I deserve a prize for that.  Or maybe some jewelry.

3.  We are in Austin with my parents this weekend and we're going to spend the day at the lake.  That means that I have to wear a bathing suit and for the first time in a LONG time I am not breaking out in hives when I think about that.  Instead I am freaking out that it will be almost 100 degrees. 

4.  I am typing this on a Dell and not my MacBook and every three seconds I try and do something with the mousepad that this computer doesn't do and I think, "Damn, this Dell sucks.  I wish I'd brought my MacBook."

Last week Chris bought me a 24" monitor that he found on super-amazing sale at one of his geeky/nerdy websites.  I didn't think I really needed it, but he assured me that once I had it on my desk I would definitely want it.

As always he was right.  I can't peel myself away.  It makes photo and video editing SO much easier when I have some actual real estate to work with.  It's also shiny and pretty, which appeals to my inner magpie.

5.  I gave away about 75% of my wardrobe two weeks ago.  Seriously, I only own about 30 articles of clothing now.  I discarded things that were tired, worn out, stained or broken.  Sometimes that was tough since the items that were the most worn-out were the ones I loved the most.  But even though I loved my red linen sun dress, the strap was broken and the red had faded to pink.  I hadn't worn it in 4 years and I bravely put it in the "toss" pile.

Then I ditched anything more than 5 years old or stuff that no longer fits with my new Mommy-lifestyle.  (Such as a very, very short skirt that I wore with hesitation even when I was 23.  There is no reason for me to hang onto that one.)  I tossed socks, underwear, pajamas and about 8 bathing suits (two were from 1997). 

When I was finished three hours later, I had the neatest and tidiest closet I've ever owned.  Everything fits, looks good on me and I actually wear it.  I don't look at my closet any more and feel bad about myself for not being able to fit into jeans that I wore when I was 20. 

I have changed, my body has changed and now, freaking finally, my closet has changed.

(I also gave myself permission to buy whatever I want to help replenish stock.  Of course, I hate everything for sale this summer.  FIGURES.)

6. So, about those tornadoes.  Friday AND Saturday night (in Ft. Worth Friday and Austin on Saturday) I was hiding in the closet with the baby, a flashlight and blankets over us.  Both times we were right where "areas of rotation and tornadic activity" were being discussed on TV.  Both times we were within hundreds of yards of where spotters confirmed a tornado had been sighted.  

In twelve years of living in Texas I have never had to hide in the closet from a tornado and now, twice in a week?  My grandmother called and asked if we would be spending the night in Oklahoma on Friday so we could make it a hat trick.

7.  My hair stopped falling out.  YAY!

People who aren't interested in baby vomit should just skip this one

Yesterday I took Claire to the doctor because she had been sniffly all weekend and was beginning to act like Not Herself.  A little lethargic, less chatty, more tired, less appetite.  They always say to bring her in if she has drainage of any kind so they can check her ears.  The last two times she's had an ear infection and this seemed like another one.

Doc checked ears, throat, chest...and nothing could be found.  She guessed it was likely a cold, but to watch it carefully, and sent us on our way.  I am sure I will be billed more than $100 for a (literally) 3-minute event.  (Non-event?  Either way it's completely ridiculous.)

Claire had trouble sleeping last night and her breathing got a bit heavier as the snot thickened up.  She woke up early, but was still obviously tired, yet could not manage to get back to sleep for more than 20 minutes.  I suctioned her nose and she screamed horribly while I did it, but she was breathing more clearly and even playing some.  It was with a heavy heart that I took her to daycare and went to work.  I left her in pajamas since the torture of changing clothes was more than either of us could bear after the snot sucker.  I knew she wasn't feeling 100% but she wasn't running a fever or coughing and the Doctor DID SAY she was fine. 

Claire spit up a lot today.  It wasn't the number of times that was alarming, but rather the volume expelled the two times she did.  I'm starting to wonder where the line is between baby spit up and plain old sickie baby vomit. 

They called me in the middle of the day (which made my heart leap out of my chest when I saw the number on my caller ID - it's the first time they've EVER called).  They told me that she had barfed all over her clothes AND her back-up clothes so when I pick her up don't be alarmed that they had to put her in random back-up clothes for babies whose (bad) mothers do not pack enough clothes.  (I thought one back-up outfit was enough, but no.)

She spiked a fever of 101 by 3pm that afternoon when I picked her up and spent the entire afternoon at home sitting on my lap with her head on my chest while she watched her father perform various chores.  She hasn't sat that still and that quietly, for that long, since she was just weeks old.  She's teething, she's growing, she has a cold.  Poor sweetheart must just feel like crap.

She went to bed at 5 tonight - a full two hours early.  I have a feeling if we have a rough night and she's not feeling better by tomorrow we'll be back at the Doctor's office for an actual diagnosis this time around. 

It's 4 am. UGH

Just when I was starting to enjoy sleeping all night long, Claire has hit her week 37 developmental Wonder Week.  Her brain is busy making new connections and figuring out the Wonderful World of Categories so she can't be bothered to sleep in more than 5-hour increments.

This means a lot of 3 am wake up calls.  3 am is really the very WORST time for that sort of thing.  It's late enough to break me out of a deep, calming sleep but early enough so that after 30 or 40 minutes of soothing her it's just a wee bit too late to be worth going back to bed at 4-ish.

Reveille is normally 5 am around here.  (The trade for such an obnoxious start to the day is that Chris and I are usually both home by 3.)  Is it really worth going back to bed for only an hour?  Or should I do one of those things I'm always saying I don't have time for?  Like breakfast, exercising, folding laundry, cleaning the kitchen or maybe even something totally luxurious like shaving my legs.  Since it's JUNE and all.

I can sleep when I'm dead.  Right?

****

I just finished my first latte of the day.  I am definitely making another one.  My current favorite concoction is:  espresso, steamed fat free milk, one pump coconut syrup, one pump macadamia nut syrup, one teeny scoop of chocolate powder.

It's a replication of the latte I was drinking in Maui last April that they called a "Nutty Hawaiian."

So.  Freaking.  Good.

This is just one of my many bad fashion decisions from the 80's

I've been wearing glasses since the second grade.  When my mother first noticed that perhaps her darling daughter couldn't see, she took me to the optometrist in the mall (Pearl Vision yo!) to get checked out. 

I did not want glasses.  At all.  It probably didn't help that my mom started the conversation with, "Hmm, I think you might need glasses."  I swore up and down that I could see just FINE and I didn't need any geeky, nerdy stupid glasses.

I was also about 8 years old and didn't know any better.

We went and confirmed that I was not anywhere close to 20/20 vision.  I was really upset.   Looking back, I'm not really sure why I was so upset but I think it had something to do with the fact that anyone on TV who wore glasses was a stereotypical nerdy character like that Velma girl on Scooby-Doo.

Anyway, to soften the blow my mother told me that I could have any frames I wanted.  Any!  In the whole store!  And you know what I said?

"I can?!  You mean....they don't have to be on sale?"

We were a family that preferred to buy things on sale.  Even at the age of 8 I knew that a sure way to get my mom to buy me something was if I said, "But Mom.  It's ON SALE."  When she told me I could have full price glasses I knew this was a special day.

And what did I choose with all of that buying power?  Something snazzy?  Stylish?  Flattering?  Maybe even bedazzled?

NO.  I DID NOT CHOOSE ANY OF THOSE.

I chose a licensed pair of glasses by Pink Panther (????) that were pink and white and very big and round.  Granted, I loved pink.  (To my credit, big and round glasses were sort of in in the 80's.) But someone should have told me that Pepto-pink is not for glasses and definitely not for glasses on me.  Have you ever seen a more awkward second grader with reading skills far above her grade level?

I mean, REALLY. 

When we went to get the glasses I was startled at how much I could actually see.  You have to remember, up until then I didn't know that the way I saw the world wasn't normal.  My mother walked me out of that place and I just kept exclaiming over and over again,

"Mom!  I can SEE!!!  I can SEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!" 

The way I was prancing out of that mall with my Pink Panther glasses you would have thought I was a miracle Helen Keller or something.

My parents thankfully let me wear contacts in the 7th grade (which also mysteriously coincided with my rise in popularity at school) and I've been wearing them ever since.  I don't wear glasses often and don't have too many problems with contacts. 

(I've never really believed the hype about laser surgery.  I know far too many people who had to wear contacts at a lower prescription afterwards or even had the surgery slowly wear off over the years.  Also, the idea of lasers on my eyes give me nervous tummy - thanksbutno.)

I had several different frames through grade school and most were big and round with brown/pink colors.

Allow me to present the third grade and my awesome ponytails:

 

And, the sixth grade: 

(Shut up, you know you had awesome bangs like this too.) 

(And NO, I will not post a picture from the seventh grade when I got a perm the summer before.  Just....no.)

Finally, in about 1995 I got some very simple wire frames and I never strayed back to thick plastic frames.  HOORAY FOR ME.  Ever since, the biggish plasticky frames have always carried a nuance of,

"Don't go back there.  It's like the bangs and the purple legwarmers and jelly shoes.  Don't even think about doing that again.  The 80's are O-V-E-R."

Flash forward to today - more than 20 years later.  Last week when I was choosing frames for the 8th or 9th time, I paused.  My first instinct was to go for another version of simple wire frames. 

But since all the cool kids are finally wearing them, I felt like it was time to take another look at plastic and try some of those edgy, chunky styles that everyone seems to loving.  I couldn't go all the way with some really squared off, thick frames but I like these well enough. (And thank you to everyone who said I should go for it.  You totally pushed me over the edge.)

For a person who comes from a scary history with big, thick, plastic pink glasses I think these are a HUGE improvement from the Pink Panther frames.  It only took me 22 years to get here.  Phew. 

Am I the only one seriously considering just not dressing my child when we're at home?

Hey Claire!  What are you up to today in the kitchen?

Um, I'm not sure you're supposed to go over there.

Really, I'm pretty sure Claire.  Maybe you should come back this way.

Yeah!  Seriously!  This way!

Hey!  Get out of the dog's water bowl!  How did you get all the way over there?  I turned my head for like, A SECOND!  Only a fraction of a second! 

Hey!  Not both hands!  Get both hands OUT OF THERE!

You've only be wearing this bunny outfit for four minutes.  And it's already time for a new outfit.  I swear, why do I even BOTHER dressing you?   I hope that was worth the fit you're about to throw when I put a new onesie on you.