Monday, September 3, 2012

Romance With Children

Today is the anniversary of our first date. 7 years ago, my husband invited me to join him and his group of friends to Bumpershoot, Seattle's outdoor music festival. In an awkward turn of events, only one of his friends came. So there we were, my future husband and I and our first date...with his friend. Once we got to the festival, that friend had the kindness to ditch us for the beer garden where he presumably had a few and then walked 3 miles back to the ferry, alone.

My husband and I chatted that whole day. We shared a spoon over a bowl of ice cream. I later discovered that he had kept that spoon for months after our date. As evening fell upon us, he FINALLY held my hand (I'd only been waiting all day!) during the last songs of the last show. We parted ways at Coleman Dock, where he boarded the ferry to Bremerton and I, the one to Bainbridge Island. Separated by the glass windows of our respective boats and a few feet of chilly Puget Sound water, we waved our final goodnights, each of us grinning from ear to ear.

Our second date involved putt-putt golf and me betting him lapdances that he couldn't finish all the leftovers from our pizza dinner (he never did cash in on those lapdances). That date ended at 11 p.m. in the mall parking lot with our first kiss. A kiss which was broken up by a very intimidating mall cop.

I absolutely love our very first memories together. I can't believe how young and energetic and spontaneous and carefree we were. Fast forward to today, the anniversary of our first date. This is how we spent the evening:

I left the house to finish some last minute grocery shopping with Ryan while my husband was doing chores at home with Jacob. I was about to check out at the store when I got a frantic text from my husband asking if we had chicken noodle soup. I responded that we did not and then I headed straight for the soup aisle to pick some up.

When I got home and walked in the door, I was greeted by Jacob sitting on the couch screaming his face off. What's wrong? If nothing is wrong then why are you screaming? Tell me what's wrong or you can cry in your room. I plopped Jacob in his room where he proceeded to scream even louder, if that's even possible.

I looked to my husband who explained that Jacob was crying because he wanted chicken noodle soup. Good thing I had just bought some. I got out a bowl, poured the soup in, and nuked it. At this point, Ryan had had enough of being ignored. He was getting fussy. I rationally explained to him that I could pick him up as soon as Jacob's soup was done. He was less rational and joined in the screaming.

Ryan began to wail as loudly as an atom bomb siren as he pumped his arms dramatically into the air.  His face turned red. His eyes all but disappeared behind his red, tear-streaked, puffy cheeks. I guiltily ignored his cries as I pulled the soup out of the microwave, set it on the table and rushed to Jacob's room to console him. This required as much delicacy as talking a grizzly bear out of ripping out your eyeballs.

"Jacob, hey sweet guy. Please stop crying. Guess what? I made you some soup! It's your favorite! If you stop crying you can come out of your room and eat dinner."

WAAAAAAAAH! Ryan was still competing for my attention in the other room.

"Ok," Jacob said, sounding less than enthused.

I led Jacob out to the table and plopped him in the chair in front of his bowl of warm soup. He took a precarious peek into the bowl. Then he threw his spoon across the room and cried, "I DON'T WANT IT!"

"But Jacob, it's chicken noodle soup. Daddy said that's what you wanted."

"No! I wanted soup with TINY noodles. These noodles are too big!" With that the screaming hysterics began again and I made him have a time out on the couch. I picked Ryan up and fed him a bottle on the couch next to Jacob. Jacob stuck his foot across the cushion and slapped it on Ryan's stomach. Did you know it's possible to get time-out when you're already serving a time-out sentence? I'm doomed. He's a repeat offender. 

This time, Jacob served the remainder of his time-out in his room. The sound of Jacob throwing his arms and legs against his bed began to accompany his screaming. A couple minutes later, we let Jacob out of his room on a conditioned parole. Thus began the Battle of Dinner.

Usually for dinner, Jacob has no choice but to eat the same thing that we eat. After multiple time-out threats, this usually works out just fine. But tonight I hadn't made dinner. Dinner was pretty much a free-for-all. But, since his noodles weren't TINY noodles, Jacob wouldn't touch his soup with a ten foot pole. After much negotiation, we settled on a compromise. Thus was born the Treaty of Grilled Chicken And Peanut Butter Pancakes.

FINALLY, both Jacob and Ryan were fed. I anticipated at least a couple minutes of peace before bedtime. Unfortunately, as usual, they had other plans:

Jacob looked up from his Legos and asked, "Mommy, can I have more juice?"

"No, you can have milk or water."

This wasn't going to fly with Jacob. He scrunched up his face and screamed, "NOOOO!!! I WANT JUICE. WAAAAAH"


And me? I curled up in a ball on the couch, "WAAAH. HOW YOUNG DO THEY START BOARDING SCHOOL?!! CAN I HAVE WINE FOR DINNER!!"

At that moment, my husband walked into the house and saved me. Then we finished up our night all gathered in the living room watching Jeopardy.

And THAT sums up our very romantic first date anniversary evening.

P.S. Do verbal lap dance vouchers ever expire?

No comments:

Post a Comment