Now that our youngest has fully broken through into the “toddler” stage of life, I have come to realize there are so many things about parenting NO ONE ever tells you. I think for fear that people would simply stop reproducing altogether and the human race would die out. With all these realizations in the past two weeks, I asked my mother to book my reservation to the nut house for early summer next year after child #3 comes, because I am sure along with my cesarean recovery I am going to need a white padded room and some heavy medication.
Now don’t get me wrong. I love my children to death.
But these kids? These aren’t my kids… someone has taken the boys I have worked so hard raising and replaced them with… pods? Aliens? Test subjects? You get the picture… my children have mysteriously disappeared.
And just for the record, I would like MY kids back.
Last night I hit my breaking point… I became that Mom when my husband and I were attempting to enjoy dinner with the children. Out in a decently nice restaurant. Someplace we have gone with the children on several occasions before this night. Service was good, until my food came and that was the first thing that annoyed me. My meal sucked, and in the end, even after complaining about it, they did nothing for us. We will not be back.
But once the children ate, which was rather quickly because we requested their food come out before ours, they started acting like they had absolutely no kind of home training at all. My oldest decided he wanted to take up camp under the table. Seriously? What child?!? Well needless to say, he main motive with that move was to scope out all the nasty old GUM people had stuck under the table over the course of time. Totally gross and that is where my blood pressure started to rise. I got him back up onto the seat. Then he refused to eat. That’s fine… don’t ask me for a “snack” when we get home…
All while our youngest with one of the nick names Chunk continued to scarf down food. He is a great eater, and once he is in high school I have no question that he will eat us out of house and home. But the second he was finished he decided to throw food on the floor. Something else I am totally mortified of. I quickly picked it all up, and took the rest of the food he had in front of him away. Cue meltdown…
It was almost like he looked at me and said “You either let me wreak havoc, or I am not going to let you eat.”
Of course… it continued, even after my half assed meal got there. So I took him outside letting my husband enjoy his meal which they clearly did not screw up.
All the while I was getting glares from the table across from me. I knew exactly what those glares meant too. From a table of older women that probably never had a child. They were judging… I could tell… as they sucked down their cocktails and continued their girls night out.
Finally I got my youngest calm and rational enough where I thought he would let me at least eat the one thing on my plate I really shouldn’t have had. A baked potato. I needed to eat something, I was starving and Fetus #3 was pissed I wasn’t feeding him/her.
I had my food wrapped to go, like I am actually going to eat it. Reality? The dogs will probably have a gourmet meal today sometime, while I bitch about the price I paid for dog food.
I just can’t win sometimes, and this is where I say, I just want one night where I can go out to eat. When I can have a good meal that they don’t completely screw up… that is perfect from start to finish, without children acting like those hooligans from Talladega Nights.