Breakfast at the Lunchbox

Before I had children, eating in restaurants was at the tip top of my fun things to do list. I can't quite seem to update my list to reflect the reality that now, dining out involves an entire FAMILY. For a change, I am not the one glowering at the parents with the bratty children at the next table. No, now I can glower directly at the children sitting at MY table. And they are not bratty ... they are toddlers, struggling to learn their way in a complicated and boring world. When I was in college, I worked for restaurants and I remember being so angry at people who left with their children to their nice clean home while I tried to repair the damage left under, on and around their table. Now, I am that person, clutching two hollering toddlers, ducking sheepishly out to the car, speeding away from the mess. It is exhilarating and shameful at the same time ... maybe like driving the getaway car for a bank robbery?

But I am actually writing to capture a moment of glowing praise for my two children. As John left us this morning, Saturday, for work, I silently swore at his retreating backside and thought "great. What now?? How am I going to fritter another day away with these two bored children?!" I know the guy is just doing what needs to be done, but if I'm not angry with him, I've got nothing. Out of spite, I decided to carry on with my plans to have a nice Saturday morning breakfast at the Weston Lunchbox without him. I hesitated about whether or not I should drag Nelka away from her day off to help with the girls. I decided against it and moved with purpose, changing diapers, dressing and applying shoes and sweatshirts with speed and agility. I loaded both little girls into their (lethally outdated) car seats and headed off to the Lunchbox. I cheerfully lectured C&A in the car about being good girls for mommy and how funny was it that we could eat breakfast at the LUNCHbox ha ha ha.

Given history, I didn't expect much from them. But they were so good! We found a place directly in front of the entrance and I herded them through the door and our waitress directed us to a table in the back that was covered in a plastic tablecloth (no offense taken!). She had a cup of coffee in my hand in less than a minute and took my order asap. Maybe I should dedicate this post to her! She was brilliant (and hopefully not still scraping up after us). Claire, chose to sit in a restrictive highchair (I let her sit in regular chairs when she prefers). Ava didn't complain about her seat either and they were both reasonably QUIET while eating with FORKS. Claire asked me politely if she could play with a cream pitcher, and nodded understandingly when I said no. Ava obediently said "peese" after demanding things. Half way through our breakfast, Claire exclaimed "Mommy, I such a good girl!" I beamed. Beamed and beamed, hoping other diners noticed the frazzled, pregnant lady in the corner with the two beautifully behaved children. Yes, toward the end, I was cramming last bites into my mouth, taking big gulps of coffee as C&A melted down, but they are toddlers.

We are all going out to dinner tonight with John's cousin, Barkley. I will let you know how it goes ...