If you remember from my previous post, I vowed that we would limit our restaurant excursions to once a week. This would not only help with our budget, but also our waistlines. In case the thought of a fat savings account and a thin bikini-body wasn't motivating enough, we had something else to encourage us to dine at home. It happens to be about two feet tall with a penchant for throwing any object in a three foot radius. Our adorable son, aka "Little Monster."
Up until about the age of one, Benjamin was a perfect little angel at restaurants. He would sit quietly, eat his food, and smile at the waiters and other patrons as we finished our meal. Now that he is walking (running actually) he is not so content to wait for us to eat, or wait for our meal to arrive, or even wait for us to order that meal. He just hates to wait in general, which is why we had started to stay home more often for meals even before we made the decision to cut back on dining out for other reasons. Eating out just wasn't enjoyable anymore.
I am proud to say that the first half of the first month of the first year of the new decade (how's that for a run-on sentence?) Benjamin and I ate every meal at home. Nathan did too, except when he was on duty. Last night though was my mom's birthday and we went out to dinner to celebrate with her. I couldn't believe how excited I was for that dinner. (C'mon...it had been almost two weeks!) So we left for the restaurant with a bag of tricks in hand (a diaper bag filled with multiple toys, books, cups, etc) in hopes that Benjamin would cooperate with us while we tried to enjoy our night out. Yeah right. Wishful thinking.
It started off on a bad note because we didn't get seated until 6:30, which is about a half hour after he is used to eating dinner. Since there were nine of us, it seemed to take forever to just get our drinks, much less our meal. So I was reduced to bribing Benjamin to behave with the rice cakes that I had brought (specifically for this type of emergency) which filled him up before his real dinner came along. So really, he was done eating before I even took my first bite. I vaguely remember tasting a couple bites of my meal while alternating pulling out toys from the bag to give him and picking up the ones that he had thrown under the table. I think my pasta tasted good. Maybe I will get to find out at lunch today, when I eat my leftovers (pretty much the whole meal). Note to self: eat after Benjamin goes down for a nap.
As far as being a part of the dinner conversation, forget it. Aside from "Stop throwing the silverware," "No, you may not have my soda," and at least a hundred "Use your words!", I don't think I interjected more than a couple verbal thoughts into the discussion that was occuring around the table. In fact, I don't really remember what the group even talked about over the course of the evening. I was too busy trying to cajole my one year old to eat one more bite of his corn.
After I threw in the towel (more like my napkin) on trying to enjoy my dinner, Benjamin and I went for a walk outside of the restaurant while everyone else finished their meal. After exploring the sidewalk, the steps, and the grass, I convinced Benjamin that a cookie was waiting for him back at the table. I was really just desperate to get back to the group so I could enjoy some adult conversation. Nathan graciously fed him dessert while I tried to soak up the last little bit of the evening. The check finally came, we paid the bill, and we gathered everything up (even getting on my hands and knees to retrieve the toys that were under the table) so we could leave and get our little monster to bed. It was almost 9:00 by the time we got him home and into his crib, which is a full hour past his normal time. Poor little guy. No wonder he was so ornery.
So eating out is no longer what it used to be. Oh well. On a brighter note, everyone at the restaurant thought he was the most adorable little boy ever, especially when they watched him toddle by in his squeaky shoes. More on that later. :)
Up until about the age of one, Benjamin was a perfect little angel at restaurants. He would sit quietly, eat his food, and smile at the waiters and other patrons as we finished our meal. Now that he is walking (running actually) he is not so content to wait for us to eat, or wait for our meal to arrive, or even wait for us to order that meal. He just hates to wait in general, which is why we had started to stay home more often for meals even before we made the decision to cut back on dining out for other reasons. Eating out just wasn't enjoyable anymore.
I am proud to say that the first half of the first month of the first year of the new decade (how's that for a run-on sentence?) Benjamin and I ate every meal at home. Nathan did too, except when he was on duty. Last night though was my mom's birthday and we went out to dinner to celebrate with her. I couldn't believe how excited I was for that dinner. (C'mon...it had been almost two weeks!) So we left for the restaurant with a bag of tricks in hand (a diaper bag filled with multiple toys, books, cups, etc) in hopes that Benjamin would cooperate with us while we tried to enjoy our night out. Yeah right. Wishful thinking.
It started off on a bad note because we didn't get seated until 6:30, which is about a half hour after he is used to eating dinner. Since there were nine of us, it seemed to take forever to just get our drinks, much less our meal. So I was reduced to bribing Benjamin to behave with the rice cakes that I had brought (specifically for this type of emergency) which filled him up before his real dinner came along. So really, he was done eating before I even took my first bite. I vaguely remember tasting a couple bites of my meal while alternating pulling out toys from the bag to give him and picking up the ones that he had thrown under the table. I think my pasta tasted good. Maybe I will get to find out at lunch today, when I eat my leftovers (pretty much the whole meal). Note to self: eat after Benjamin goes down for a nap.
As far as being a part of the dinner conversation, forget it. Aside from "Stop throwing the silverware," "No, you may not have my soda," and at least a hundred "Use your words!", I don't think I interjected more than a couple verbal thoughts into the discussion that was occuring around the table. In fact, I don't really remember what the group even talked about over the course of the evening. I was too busy trying to cajole my one year old to eat one more bite of his corn.
After I threw in the towel (more like my napkin) on trying to enjoy my dinner, Benjamin and I went for a walk outside of the restaurant while everyone else finished their meal. After exploring the sidewalk, the steps, and the grass, I convinced Benjamin that a cookie was waiting for him back at the table. I was really just desperate to get back to the group so I could enjoy some adult conversation. Nathan graciously fed him dessert while I tried to soak up the last little bit of the evening. The check finally came, we paid the bill, and we gathered everything up (even getting on my hands and knees to retrieve the toys that were under the table) so we could leave and get our little monster to bed. It was almost 9:00 by the time we got him home and into his crib, which is a full hour past his normal time. Poor little guy. No wonder he was so ornery.
So eating out is no longer what it used to be. Oh well. On a brighter note, everyone at the restaurant thought he was the most adorable little boy ever, especially when they watched him toddle by in his squeaky shoes. More on that later. :)
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