Jeremy and I love our restaurants. We’re famous for eating out up to 3 times in one day. We love breakfast out on Sundays….lunch on our days off…dinners at new and exciting hot spots. In fact, it’s typical for me to open a fully stocked fridge and then look at the hubs and sigh “Where do you want to go?”
Saturday might have broken us for good.
We loaded up the two kiddos–even that is more difficult than whipping something together on the stove! We headed to a neighborhood place that we love, only to be reminded at the locked front door that they close early on weekend afternoons….just after brunch ends at 2pm to be exact. Wish that I had seen that one coming before unloading 2 car seats and almost being squashed by a lady in a minivan that didn’t see us parked next to her. Joy.
So, we debated our options on a Saturday. Our town is quick to satisfy those in the mood for “all things fried and con queso” but finding a sandwich or salad or just the right glass of Sauvignon Blanc is another story. We almost got into another car wreck before hitting the interstate (Thank J for neglecting to check the lane next to us before merging) and were totally shaken by the time that we pulled into the mall parking lot to visit a little gourmet deli.
The mall parking lot reflected a typical summer Saturday (meaning that half of Juarez had decided to engage in back to school shopping) and we soon found ourselves AND TWO TODDLERS in line at chick fil e. No flirty Sauvignon blanc to be had, but they make a mean coke zero and you cannot beat the waffle fries.
Morgan whined non stop during the meal. He ate less than half of one nugget and wanted to ride the merry go round. Leighton fussed between wakefullness and sleep and we dreaded the moment that she entered full on shriek mode because it would mean whipping out a boob in the middle of the GEE DEE food court.
How did it come to this?? Morgan was so portable as a baby. Now, at three, we have good days and epic bad days. Leighton is a wild card…snoozing one second and wailing like a little banshee the next.
J and I are just tired. Too tired for clean clothes and brushed hair tired. This means no swank places. Heck…yesterday J had mushed bananas on his shoulder for pete’s sake! Morgan decided to place his bowl of bananas and whipped cream on dad’s shoulder while J nodded off on the couch and when he sat up they poured out on his shirt. I tried to look stern (hard to do while operating a breast pump) but I just kept laughing in the attempt to spit out “Morgan! We do not leave dirty dishes on top of daddy!” OH YEAH. The urge to leave the house was strong.
So for now, looks like I need to bring the magic home. It’s too much stress to bring this circus on the road.