Last night we ate dinner at a nice restaurant. Nice meaning the boys had to wear shirts with collars and buttons and shoes that weren’t Crocs. Toward the end of the meal, our waiter pulled me aside to tell me how impressed he was with our boys. He said, “I just want you to know, your kids were great. They were so well-behaved.”
I thought this: I’m just as shocked as you are! Normally, they’re a complete disaster in a restaurant, especially in a nice one like this. I expected them to be a hot mess of whining and complaining. I anticipated endless unnecessary trips to the bathroom. Tonight, they did none of that. And they actually ate the food they were served! Dylan even ate a new shape of pasta. Pappardelle for fuck’s sake! Someone must’ve drugged them. Either that, or they’re imposter children. The real Dylan and Riley have been snatched!
I said this: “Thank you.”
Take note, fellow Mamas (and Daddies), I received and accepted a compliment about my children’s behavior, which means I received and accepted a compliment about my parenting. I’m trying hard to be present in this glorious moment and soak it all in, but in the back of my mind, I can’t help but wonder if maybe they are imposter children, because they slept until almost 8am this morning, which is lovely but odd for my little roosters.
p.s. I’ll be documenting peculiar, er, I mean, good behavior for the remainder of the day.
It was amazing. Beautiful condo. Beautiful pool. Gorgeous beach. Great food. Good company. Was it relaxing? There were definitely moments, but it was mostly like transporting our home routine to a really lovely beach backdrop. Still, the change of scenery was great, and I had some precious opportunities to lounge by the pool with my Kindle. (Still reading “The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo,” by the way. I’m not a slow reader as much as I’m a constantly interrupted mother.)
I mentioned on Facebook that there were highs and lows. I’ll start low. In the course of seven days, we dealt with pink eye (Dylan), a sinus infection (Dylan) and laryngitis (Mike). Besides the pool bar, our most visited location was CVS. On the upside, as I mentioned above, I had some much needed time for myself. Mike and I took turns having alone time at the beach or pool while the kids napped in the afternoons. We even went out for drinks alone one night after the kids went to sleep. (Thank you Grandpa Tom and Grandma Barbara!)
And it gets better. The smartest thing we did all week was take advantage the hotel’s babysitting services. I’m not one to leave my kids with a perfect stranger – which is why I have such a hard time finding a Saturday night babysitter, and hence, why I often want to run away – but I knew if we didn’t have a few dinners without the kids’ restaurant antics then we would, quite frankly, implode.
I was very anxious (surprise, surprise) on the first of what ended up being three nights of babysitting bliss. When our doorbell rang at 5:45pm on Tuesday, my heart leapt. I opened the door and there stood Nadia, a young woman in her mid twenties, nearly seven months pregnant and oozing mommy-ness, and surrounded by a glowing, angelic light. Okay, maybe the glowing light was just the sun setting behind her, but I felt instantly that she was going to save our vacation. She did. The kids loved her as much as we did, and by the time we took them out again on our last night, they wanted absolutely nothing to do with us…or their high chair and booster seat.
On Saturday morning, we packed up the car and made our way south. We came home to a clean house and a happy dog and began the process of unpacking from vacation and preparing for school. I can’t believe my sweet Dylan is in nursery school, and my little Rye-Rye is starting the toddler program three mornings a week. Today is their first day at school and my first morning alone in 17 months.
To be continued…