The Hub is out of town, and last night was just one of those nights where I was VERY thankful Nana and Pop are close by. They did daycare pickup, and took us to din, and Jr was in a mood, and I was feeling icky and, Nana ended up doing bedtime while I was busy feeling crappy …. I was very thankful to have the help.
That being said, I was feeling like maybe I had lost my mommy mojo a little bit. Jr and I used to do dinner out alone together a lot when we were living downtown and I was starting to think I just didn’t have it in me anymore.
So we pulled out of daycare today, ignored the Adobo Grapefruit chicken in the crockpot, turned down the invite for Spaghetti at Nana and Pop’s, and headed out to find a place for Cooper/Mommy date night. (Incidentally, remind me sometime that I have a “Red Robin is so popular out here WHY!?” rant to vent out some other time. But I digress. ) We settled on Rock Bottom and packed ourselves in to see what happened.
When he squealed loudly as I settled him into his highchair, I felt a bit of panic rising up from deep inside. We got a few side eyes and I started whipping everything I had out of my purse.
But we both settled down, him with his sippy of moo juice, me with a vat o something grape. And it was wonderful. We giggled and high fived and ate and talked about the Muffin Man (Do you know the muffin man? He lives in Drury lane.) An hour or so later we departed, leaving a clean table and a good tip and taking with us the memory of a new chapter in a tradition I treasure very much. There were a couple of extra big bites of grilled cheese that left me coaching him to “just keep chewing, buddy,” but he got them down just fine. Turns out neither one of us bit off more than we could chew at that restaurant tonight.