Last night, Shane and I went out to dinner to attempt to celebrate the end of summer (read: make ourselves feel better about returning to work). We went to Lucrezia, which, aside from being our favorite restaurant, has fabulous outdoor dining. Although Luke is really good at restaurants because he likes people watching and food, we try to do outdoor dining because it's really compatible with a toddler. Or should I say, Luke was really good at restaurants.
Last night was the first (of many, I'm sure) night where I looked at Luke and thought, Who are you, and what have you done with my child? He was a monster from the moment we got there, first throwing his book at the hostess. I was mortified. Once he threw his book, he then threw EVERYTHING, whether it was food or silverware. He calmed down for a bit when the busboy brought him a special cup of water with a coffee stirrer straw (this after he threw his sippy cup), but then started screaming. Normally, when we eat early and outside at Lucrezia, there is at least one other family with a baby. Naturally this time, we were surrounded by well-dressed, childless couples. Some older, some younger. I'm fairly certain the younger ones did NOT go home and have sex last night, thanks to Luke being such fabulous birth control.
Shane and I had Luke out of his highchair, passing him back and forth, but he continued to scream at regular two-minute intervals. Finally, the food arrived. Luke calmed for another two minutes when the busboy put cheese on his ravioli, but the screaming started again. I was hurriedly trying to shove my stuffed eggplant in my mouth when he started madly grabbing everything within reach. As quick as he was grabbing, I was shoving across the table at Shane, until he grabbed a plate, and my fingers were a second behind his. This second was all it took for him to grab the plate, fling it at the ground, where it loudly SHATTERED. Everyone fell silent, except for one older woman who loudly went, OHHHHHHHHHHHH. At that moment, I honestly put my head in my hands and prayed to disappear. There are really no words for when your child acts like a complete disaster. And I know you always feel worse about it as the parent, but I am fairly certain that everyone in that restaurant was thinking, "Do they have ANY CONTROL over that kid AT ALL?" I slunk out of the restaurant, while Shane got our food wrapped up and paid the bill. He ended up tipping the waiter $20 and handed a $20 to the busboy, too. He said the busboy pulled him aside and said, "Hey, how old is he? He's being a kid. You did nothing wrong."
Thank you, busboy, I think I love you, but I still felt like the world's worst mom. Anyway, as soon as I got Luke out of the restaurant, he was SO happy. I put him in a stroller, and we walked up and down the sidewalk, waiting for Shane to come join us. While I was walking him, a carload of kids drove past and loudly called me a ho, but I was so happy to be outside that I didn't even stop to look and see if they were former students, or if they just seemed to think that a baby in a stroller was a proper ho-accessory (hocessory?). I just smiled and thought, "Ho, that's good. That's probably better than what the people in the restaurant were thinking. Yeah, I'll accept ho."
We got home, Luke played outside, and then I caught a whiff of a very foul diaper. Once accompanied by a very red bottom. So of course, now I feel like bad mommy x 2, because why didn't I stop to think that maybe his tummy was bothering him, and that's why he was acting out and didn't want to sit? I wanted to return to Lucrezia and say, "Hey, look, it's not ME, I can't control his intestines!" Instead, Shane and I just played and played with Luke, while quietly discussing how it would be a long, LONG time before we took him out to eat again. Unless, of course, you need someone to function as human birth control. Then by all means, give us a call!