Restaurants and Kids

There is no such thing as a "nice dinner out" when you have young kids. NO SUCH THING. Ever. Ever. Ever. Either you or your husband will have to sacrifice eating for the sake of the kids. Even if your kid has had an angel halo on all day, do not do it. It isn't worth the risk of every table within 100ft, aka the entire restaurant, judging you. Pretty much dinner out with young kids goes like this:

"May we have a booth please" This is so we can shove the toddler against a wall so he cannot escape.

"Why sure, it's an hour wait!"

What in the actual fuck do i do to keep my toddler and my baby entertained for an entire hour on some uncomfortable booth chair thing with no toys?!?! And so it begins.

The baby begins to whine. The car seat isn't moving back and forth like she so pleases.

The 2 year old thinks the wait booths are trampolines. Attempt to calmly sit him down without generating stares from strangers, obviously doesn't work.

Baby gets hungry. Feed her, burp her, and spit up projectiles onto jeans of the random man sitting next to you also waiting for a table... pretend you didn't notice, turn away quickly.

2 year old tries running full sprint out the door when people are coming inside, pretty sure I just pulled his arm out of his socket trying to stop him. Throw phone at kid with sesame street app playing in an attempt to curb all emotions about stopping him running out the door. Phones now on floor with cracked screen.

Baby gets overly stimulated by all the noises and crazy shit happening in the restaurant and begins to scream. Back arched, arms flailing, full blown screaming. Guy with spit up covered jeans and rest of people waiting look at your family out of the corner of their eyes.

All 2 year olds energy has been expelled by jumping, running, and throwing. He gets hangry. No not hungry. God damn HANGRY. This is when the blood sugar drops so low that all reasonable thoughts and emotions go out the door and the devil shows his face. The only thing that can stop that terror is food. Meltdown begins, he throws himself down on the floor while the baby melts down on your lap. Although nobody looks directly at you, you know everyone is judging you by this point. And so the hostess throws you to the front of the list to get rid of you, hurries you to the deepest darkest corner of the restaurant, and runs away quickly.

By this point my husband and I look like Frankenstein with blank stares and emotionless motions. The little sugar packets instantly attract tiny fingers like magnets. Why the hell do they put these things on the tables?! Stop it restaurants.

And... sugar packets are all over the floor. Lets pretend we didn't see that.

The chirpiest man in the world comes over, "HELLO!!! HI KIDS! What cute kids you have!"

"meh"

"What would you like to drink!? Can I offer you some fresh squeezed raspberry lemonade, which is really minute maid from the tap with some raspberries floating in it?!"

"Just get me a margarita, now." He doesn't ID me. I must be getting old.

"Any delicious appetizers that take an hour to come to your table?"

"Margarita"

As he walks off we turn to see our toddler has used those damn crayons to color the wall, the booth, the table, and seemingly none of the paper kids menu. Lets pretend we also didn't see that mess and move on.

Baby is pissed she is yet again in her car seat. As you try to calm her screams, "other kid, what do you want for dinner? Chicken nuggets, grilled cheese, mini burgers?"

"ummm... hot dog"

"Thats not on the menu, what do you want out of the choices?"

"hot dog"

"Chicken nuggets it is then!" This is going to come back and haunt me later.

Baby falls asleep. Thank god.

Chirpy waiter guy sets margarita on table. He now has an angelic glow about him. I like you mister waiter sir. I really, really like you. "What would you like off of our delicious menu!?"

"Food that I probably wont even get to taste"

"Oh that sounds fantastic! Coming right up! It seems you've already finished your margarita, would you like another?!"

Why is this guy even asking?

2 year old stands up and shoves fork into the head of the person in the booth behind us. Turns out to be spit up covered jeans guy. This guys going to snap soon, I just know it.

Food comes out looking absolutely delicious. "Wheres the hot dog?" proclaims the toddler. Spend 5 minutes convincing him that hot dogs have changed shape to look like chicken nuggets. It works. Spend 5 minutes cutting up kids food. He decides it isn't acceptable and wants it cut in a different shape. Spend 5 more minutes cutting up food into the shape of Mona Lisa. The food is still too hot. I've decided by this point that all restaurants make kids meals 5000 degrees Fahrenheit just in spite of you bringing kids there. Spend 5 more minutes losing all stores of oxygen from blowing on volcanic lava hot food. Hes happy.

Pick up fork.

"Mommy, I gotta go potty"

Put down fork.

Spend 10 minutes standing in a stall while toddler on toilet reminisces on the entire days events. Kid finally goes after much persuasion. Keep head down while walking back to table. No eye contact with the public. They all hate you already.

Pick up fork.

Baby wakes up hungry.

Put down fork.

Feed baby

Pick up fork.

Baby poops.

Put down fork.

Take baby to restroom to change on the never cleaned changing table. She smiles at you. She knows what she is doing, shes smarter than she seems. Second walk of shame with eyes on floor.

Pick up fork

Take a bite of cold food. Decide margaritas are going to be your only source of nutrients for dinner. Ask for one more and the bill.

Chirpy McChirperson thinks something is wrong with your food since you didn't eat it, "what is wrong with your food?! I can do anything to make it better!" But you can't exactly judge cold spaghetti. Put it in a to go box for breakfast tomorrow. Suck down last few drops of margarita.

Stand up from booth and realize that the entire floor is a massacre of chicken nuggets, smushed french fries, spit up and sugar packets. Tip Chirpy McChirperson $20 out of guilt. Pretend you didn't notice, grab kids and all the luggage, and do walk of shame out of the restaurant. Spit up covered jeans guy mean mugs you on the way out. Sorry mister.

And then as you get to the car you realize you just paid shit tons of money to go through the depths of hell and back. You thus vow to never, ever go eat at a restaurant again. Until in about 1 month you will forget how terrible this experience was and repeat it all over again. Oh well, at least I have breakfast for tomorrow and I didn't have to make my own margaritas. I guess it wasn't all too bad.