Tonight is a do-over for my birthday. My real birthday falls in December, and this year it happened to be 3 days after the birth of my youngest, and my wee one and I had just stumbled out of the NICU in a jumbled, sleep-deprived, haze. My sister offered to take the big boys overnight for my birthday months before, and she was still excited to do so. We figured we’d drop them off at her house and have dinner at my favorite steakhouse with the newest addition to our family.
We dropped the boys off over an hour late (because someone forgot how long it takes to get out of the house with a brand new baby), and were on our way. The restaurant was a debacle as they were out of rolls (which was a complete tragedy considering that they have the best rolls EVER, and also that I had just been let off of the severe carb restriction that I had due to gestational diabetes), and they served us some seriously undercooked shrimp, which had some serious ramifications later (I’ll let you fill in the blanks there).
On the way home we had to pull over in a parking lot to feed the baby. Since it was late and nothing was open, I ended up feeding the baby in the front seat of our (parked) car, while trying to keep him warm enough, in the dark. Yeah, that was a party.
We embarked on the drive home (as the steakhouse is 45 minutes from where we live), and my husband made a comment that at least this drive gave us some nice time to chat since we’d been so busy that week and had no time to talk. At least that’s what I assume he said. I can’t be sure, as I dozed off about 25 seconds after we started driving. Conversationalist, fail. Although, I apparently I muttered random intelligible comments throughout the drive home, so I get points for trying.
So, anyway, my sweet husband has decided that we are going to have a do-over tonight on my half birthday. Oh, and for the 1st time ever, we’re leaving all 3 kids with a babysitter! I’m really excited. We’re going to the steakhouse (and a movie!) and I have high hopes. I’m cautiously optimistic that they’ll have rolls and I will stay far away from the shrimp!
Maybe this time I’ll get a less painful present.