I’d been out of town for four days away from the munchkin and had a super productive Wednesday so I left about an hour early so we could get some extra playtime in during the beautiful afternoon.
We went to Kid’s Kingdom on the riverfront and played for about an hour and then took a good little walk on the riverfront. I call it a little walk not because it was especially short but because we took tiny little steps. This wasn’t a walk in a stroller, this was a walk with a two year old setting the pace standing between his momma and daddy.
It had been such a good afternoon and early evening; Miles after struggling with some teething tantrums earlier in the week was in great spirits. I thought we’d tempt fates and grab a quick bite for dinner instead of cooking.
This is where the highs stop, for at least a couple hours.
We barely make it into the restaurant before the craziness begins. He has refused high chairs at restaurants for months now but even loudly declined a booster seat and instead decided he’d stand in the booth.
Miles had both a sippie cup and a restaurant cup with a lid and straw filled with water and he insisted on grabbing my glass. You can imagine where this is going. After a few swipes the glass goes flying across the table and onto Michael’s lap.
The tears and fits continued. It has been at least 10 minutes and I’ve been unable to even crack open the menu let alone order. Looking back, I realize the right decision would have been to leave. And if the restaurant hadn’t been completely empty but the two waiters (who both assured use they had kids themselves and didn’t mind the craziness) we would have left.
There were two trips outside with Miles. And when I say that, I don’t mean the old school “Let’s go outside so I can beat you” kind of thing. It’s kind of magical for Miles. He walks outside and he almost immediately calms down. Apparently he’s one with nature.
Most of the hour stay at the restaurant wasn’t filled with crying and fussing more just insane chaos. The kid is trying to tear down the blinds (so we put them up), tip over the drinks again (so we put them on the floor out of view), run all over crazy (so we barricade him in the booth with my body) and only eat my food (so I let him and took a couple bites of his eggs and pancakes.)
I missed him so much while I was gone, but that hour or so was torturous. I think it may have scared us into never entering a restaurant again until Miles is, let’s say, 13.
We eventually finish up and as we are getting ready to get up I knock the same glass (now nearly filled to the brim again) across the table onto Michael’s lap once again.
He laughed (perhaps to keep from crying). It was a fitting way to end the meal.
We left a very, very generous tip and thanks with our superbly patient waiter.
Once home we were back to the highs. We snuggled up in our chair to read a stack of books and then moved into his room and the rocking chair. I marveled at how sweet and serene he was; downright goofy too. Miles will be rubbing his face with the silky part of his blanket nearing sleep one moment and then all of a sudden pop his head up, wrap his blanket around my shoulders and rub my head proclaiming, “Night, night mommy!” the next.
The highs and lows of living with a toddler continue!
What’s been your most chaotic dining experience? Any tips you can pass my way?