We had to wake up the older two from their naps, which lead to Middle being very, very crabby. The other day I woke her up so that we could go to the library. I asked her to drink her milk before we went, which lead to an hour long TANTRUM FEST of screaming and crying in the kitchen. We did not go to the library. And she also did not drink her milk. Lose, lose. Any way, we had to wake them up. We told them we were GOING OUT TO EAT!!! Did they care? No. Candy wasn’t involved in the statement “going out to eat,” so why get excited? We tried to booster the excitement of the whole ordeal by mentioning that there is a GIANT HORSE!!! outside of the restaurant. We got nothing in return.
So we load everyone up. Small is excited, because we are leaving the house. Any time the front door opens, it’s a freakfest to get out that door! “HURRAY! We’re going OUT OF THE HOUSE! See you later, walls. I’m outta here.” I had to stop Large from grabbing handfuls of freshly fertilized grass clumps, and herded everyone into our family minivan, thinking fondly of the days that we owned a Tiberon. With everyone buckled in tight, we took off.
We park fairly close, and unload our brood. They spot the GIANT HORSE!!! and excitement ensures, but Daddy is hungry, so we forgo a picture opportunity with GIANT HORSE!!!. The host and hostess eye us up and down, and I know what they’re thinking. I was a server for five years. I know what a family with three very young children is capable of. They seat us all the way in the back of the restaurant, next to another family with young kids. With everyone in proper seating, Large opens up her coloring book to find KID FRIENDLY CHOP STICKS! She whips them out and waves them around, narrowly missing the array of sauces and the lit oil candle in the middle of the table. I blow out the candle, and eventually will ask her ten more times to stop waving those (GOD DAMNED) things around.
As any parent with a one year old knows, everything must be removed from within a five foot radius of Small. If it’s within that five foot radius, she WILL have it. It’s magic, and you can count on it. We ordered tofu lettuce wraps for an appetizer, one of my favorite things to eat ever. The food runner who brought the appetizer was a young gentleman, who clearly has never been around small children, as he set the plate right in front of Small, who with lightening reflexes tried to grab it. Luckily, Mommy is faster. I gave a bite to Large, who proclaimed to love it, but it was obvious that her love of the tofu was simply because she could pick it up with her chop sticks. The hubs gave a bite to Medium, who almost threw up in her mouth. Then we gave her a piece of lettuce, all of which she shoved in her mouth and down her throat, causing her to gag and almost throw up in her mouth. Small liked the tofu for about three bites before she proceeded to throw the rest on the floor.
The main entrées make it to the table without any causalities (yet) except for Small’s tofu on the floor. I dish out egg noodles, broccoli and rice as quickly as I can, as before me awaits a FEAST OF DELICIOUSNESS that I must attend to promptly. Large begins to eat her brown rice with her chop sticks, one grain at a time. Medium follows suit, but has difficulty with the chopsticks, causing most of her food to go in her lap. Small picks up her noodles and shoves them by the handful into her mouth. She tries the broccoli, which is covered in a brown sauce, and spits it out with a theatrical “BLAH” of the tongue, and then tries it again. And spits it out again. Within minutes, fistfuls of noodles are being flung onto the floor.
I don’t mind though, as I have tuned into my own feast. For a few seconds I have delicious curried veggies and tofu in my mouth, and the children don’t exist. So. Good. Then I swallow, open my eyes, and see egg noodles flying by my face. Meanwhile, there is a group of large, African American gentlemen sitting next to us, and Small is batting her eyes and flirting with them. I hope they find her cute, and that cuteness overshadows Medium crying because she couldn’t get her chop sticks to work.
At least once, at separate times, both Large and Medium decide that they need to GO POTTY!! And when the urge hits, and you’re two or four, IT HITS, and it’s URGENT. So first I take Large, and Medium protests, but I assure her she can wait the ten minutes it was going to take us to finish our dinners. Large does her business, and then all of a sudden, the public bathroom transforms into a festival of treasures that she must TOUCH. So I’m in there, and the dialogue (well, monologue really), goes something like this: “Go potty. Hop down. Wipe. The right way. No, the right way.Throw it in the DON’T TOUCH THAT! DON’T TOUCH THAT! NO!!! DON’T TOUCH ANYTHING!!!!” Large washes her hands, dries them, tries to touch the door handle NOOO! We make it back to the table, where Medium awaits, about to pee her pants. The whole scenario is repeated, only two year olds listen a lot less than four year olds, so plenty more “DON’T TOUCH ANYTHING’s!!!!” spew from my mouth.
By the time we make it back, Small is getting antsy. She starts doing a little dance in her highchair which says, “Get me the F out of here, I’M DONE!” Some whines escape, I give her crayons, chop sticks, lettuce, anything! that will keep her occupied while I finish my delicious food. I scarf the rest down. My husband looks happy and content and non-stressed (why couldn’t we have all boys so he could deal with the potty situation? Just kidding. I don’t like little boys. They have penises. And I don’t want to deal with THAT). Medium and Small have both had enough of this charade at this point. While we were in the bathroom, Small got to drink some of Medium’s lemonade, and now they are fighting over it. Large is still eating rice one grain at a time with her chopsticks, and Small starts screaming as the lemonade is taken from her tiny, clenched fists. Time to go!
The hubs take the smaller two out. Large eats some broccoli, inquiring about dessert. Thank god there are fortune cookies, and she’s happy. Our server was simply amazing- incredibly attentive and speedy. I pay the bill, leave a HUGE tip to cover the HUGE mess that Small left, and then it’s off the find that GIANT HORSE!!!
But the hubs is already in the car with the younger two, so no GIANT HORSE!!! fun. I feel a little bit sad to skip that opportunity yet again, but there is the whole broken up fortune cookie situation that I’m going to have to deal with once we get in the car.
Maybe next time, GIANT HORSE!!! For now, I’m going home. I’m exhausted.
Small, doing her "antsy dance" with a chop stick.
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