It all started with a hangover….
Jeremy and I had our first solo date night on Saturday. We got dressed up and had cocktails and dinner at a local place with a great city lights view. It felt so sophisticated to be kid free and wearing something sans spit up! We sipped fancy drinks and giggled over menus and good times gone by. We decided that ordering a bottle of pinot noir was a better deal than ordering two glasses for dinner…in short, we forgot that we no longer drink and accidentally got a bit plastered on our first night away from the children.
We made our way home and paid the baby sitter who had performed a miracle. Leighton was snugly asleep in her crib for the first time in her life and Morgan was out as well. Hurray! We might have over tipped her in our gratitude…but we wanted to make sure that she came back.
Flash forward to midnight when Leighton awakes in an unfamiliar place and lets out a piercing screech. I had just dozed off myself when I found myself leaping out of bed in mommy mode and comforting the peanut. She began babbling and cooing–telling me all about her evening and was eager to hang out. And so it went…every hour until 3 pm when I woke Jeremy by flicking on the bedside lamp. He had managed to snore through three separate Leighton wakings as well as Morgan’s entry to our bed at midnight. He slept through me slapping him and pinching the skin on his back while repeatedly shouting his name in his ear. Poor thing was a bit puzzled by my snippiness when I handed him a bottle and a baby and announced that it was my turn to sleep.
I overheard Leighton “talking” to Daddy in the living room for another half hour or so until I managed to doze off again with Morgan’s feet in my face. At 5:30am, I awoke to Jeremy standing on my side of the bed easing a hungry little girl onto the pillow beside me for breakfast. My head felt like a giant wad of cotton at that point and I dimly remember feeding her before falling asleep again…only to wake at 7am with both kiddos up for the morning. I passed both of them off to Jeremy and firmly went back to dreamland until 9:30. Decadent!
The morning progressed slowly. We had motrin, coffee, and I was grappling with an overwhelming craving for burritos. It was my first hangover in about ten years and I contemplated the difference that parenthood brings to that equation and I can safely say that I don’t plan to overindulge again until Leighton is safely away at college. These children had no mercy on us!
We had planned to hit the pumpkin patch over the weekend and we were still struggling through the mental fog to figure out how to make it happen when both of us felt so rotten. Morgan was chattering excitedly about riding a tractor and racing the little water ducks. I was imagining the southwestern sun BEATING down on us and shuffling a baby through it all.
So around 3pm we hit a Mexican restaurant and scarf down the beans and cheese and tortillas that I had been craving all day. Fortified, we loaded the kids back into the car and make it to the pumpkin patch at 4:30pm. We began to unload the car…Morgan was hopping up and down like a demented little frog and I casually asked Jeremy “Where’s the diaper bag?”
He looked at me and replied uncertainly “back at the restaurant?”
We stood in the field that was functioning as a parking lot with our three-year old continuing to hop beside us. My cell phone is also in the diaper bag and we try to decide if I will take one or two kids into the pumpkin patch without a life line (or cash…because we also forgot to hit the ATM) while Jeremy returns to the restaurant in hopes that my bag, my phone, and the camera (AGH!) will still be there. Finally, he left with the baby and Morgan and I headed into the pumpkin patch.
It’s about 5pm at this point and we have 2 hours until they close. The sun is still managing to beat down, but I feel surprisingly light without a baby and a sling.
Our first tantrum began after Leighton and Jeremy returned triumphantly with the diaper bag. I put the baby in the new Beco Gemini carrier and we watched the boys sling pumpkins into a large field (see above. Men love this) Leighton decided it was high time to nurse in public and commenced to screech in a voice that carried across three fields. I sat on the ground wrestling with the sling until I had her free enough to eat…hoping that the breeze wouldn’t kick up my nursing cover and praying that the three little boys tossing a mini pumpkin around with zero parental supervision would not hit us. It’s rather hard to bob and weave while maintaining your modesty. Leighton was doing nothing to help in this capacity, grabbing my nursing cover and waving it in a cheerful game of peek-a-boo while happily chowing down. Did I mention that my girl is a VERY noisy eater? No going stealth on this one.
The second tantrum happened when we gently informed Morgan that he would not be spending the entire afternoon “Mining for Gems”. There was a little set up where you could purchase a sack of dirt and pan for treasure. Our boy had collected quite a selection of colored stones and didn’t want to do anything else at the pumpkin patch. He ended up throwing his treasure on the ground and wailing. Refusing tractor rides and trips on the slide. He stomped and said he was “going home.”
In fact, there were no tantrums until the end of the evening when the pumpkin patch closed and it was time to go home. Then we were the people dragging a raging toddler back out to the car with a pumpkin and tons of gear and a sleepy peanut.
Can you believe this is our third year at the pumpkin patch (click for the memories!) with Morgan?? Where does the time go?