Last night my sister and I took the babies out to dinner at Chili's. I should have known that things were not going to go well, when H was in his car seat crying up a storm because his shoe fell off. I yelled at him - I later explained to my sister that I had become temporarily possessed and while my head did not spin and I did not vomit green porridge, I said something not so nice.
So we get settled down, babies in booster chairs, snacks passed around and crayon pages unfolded, when the waitress comes by and immediatly hands us this huge stack of napkins. They ended up coming in real handy. She must have kids.
For some reason our dinners took longer than expected so the babies became antsy. H would not stay put in his booster seat, so he stood on me and played peek-a-boo with a patron behind us. That man was so nice, I could have kissed him. Then H wanted to stand on the table, no way Jose!
Then the babies started a squealing match and little A can squeal like a little pig!
H would not eat the food I had ordered for him, so I feed him yogurt and he ate some of my fries. Real healthy. Little A rubbed her dirty hands all over her dad's shirt and I somehow sat on the lid to H's yogurt.
I guess when I read back over this, it sounds like a pretty typical dinner time with the toddlers. Maybe it is the fact that I am a first time mom, but man was I tense that whole time. You just have a dread of making a scene, or impending melt-downs. Maybe if I could just relax a little, it wouldn't have been so bad. It was so easier when H wasn't mobile or when all he needed for dinner was my boob.
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