Tonight was our first swim class for both kids in our new locale. Shnook was continuing his journey as an “eel” at the YMCA, and I started Fuzz in a mom and toddler class at the same time.
Getting them dressed, undressed, showered off and redressed before and after the class was probably not one of my favorite memories of today, but somehow we made it through. I was watching all the moms with their little pre-crawling babies and thinking they must be afraid for their future, and if not, they should be.
Once we were finally out of the woods, we saddled up and headed off to eat dinner at a Thai place.
This particular Thai place was great because they had a kids’ menu and people were pretty casual there. I was looking forward to having a beer and some red coconut curry after a long day.
When we got to the place, there was a 45-minute wait for a four-top.
That was the first thing that went wrong.
We retreated and decided to try someplace else on the same street that had several other restaurant options. We settled on a Vietnamese place just up from the Thai restaurant. It wasn’t crowded which was a good start.
However, as soon as we sat down, trouble started bubbling like Pho.
First Fuzz was crying for water. When a 22 month-old wants something. He doesn’t stop saying it until he gets it. I’m guessing if you’re reading The Toddler Times blog, you are fully aware of this phenomenon.
“Wadah, Wadah, Wadah, WADAH, WADAH! WADAAAAHHH!!! WADAHHHHHH!!!”
Of course, we forgot his sippy cup in the car so we had to wait for the server to bring us their to-go cups with straws. That settled Fuzz down for a few minutes.
Then Shnook complained he wanted lemonade, but we weren’t keen to give it to him so late in the day on an empty stomach. So we “made” lemonade using the lemons they gave us in the water and a tiny bit of sugar that was on the table.
That satisfied him…until he spilled it two seconds later.
Then, two seconds after that, Fuzz spilled his water, too.
That’s right around the time Fuzz started bolting for the open door. I asked the server to close it but he said it gets too hot in there so that was out of the question.
When we tried to contain him, he started screaming. So it was time to take turns taking him for walks out on the street until the food came.
Finally, the food came but Fuzz refused to sit in his high chair.
Around this time, Shnook somehow ate something extremely spicy, despite our best efforts to ask and make sure that nothing we were ordering had anything spicy in it.
I have no idea what he ate but whatever it was, he was miserable. He screamed. Fuzz screamed. I took Shnook outside. My husband took Fuzz outside. Our food sat on the table uneaten.
Eventually I was able to get Shnook inside and gave him some cool rice noodles and cucumbers, but it took a good 20 minutes before he would calm down.
Eventually we gave up and got our check. I took Fuzz with me to get the car while the other half stayed and paid. I wrestled Fuzz into his seat, which is when he finally became subdued.
Until he asked for pizza on the way home.
So, I’m guessing we still have another year or so before eating in a regular restaurant is a possibility? What do you think?
Photo via Flickr