It’s Friday Night, Do You Know Where My Sanity Is?

My hubby decided to do Valentine’s dinner on Friday since it will be snowing on Valentine’s (which is supposed to last all weekend, which means school will be on a two-hour delay or closed–DARN YOU JACK FROST)!

So, I figure, hey, we are going to my favorite restaurant so it doesn’t matter. We will do some light shopping (putting away clothes for my daughter while they are on sale) and then go to dinner. We’ll be back early enough to put the kids in bed (at least the older one because my toddler is still on “sleep strike”). What could go wrong?


We didn’t get out of the door as soon as we intended, which almost always happens anyway–I should have seen that coming.

The store was overly crowded, which makes it that much more difficult to navigate a cart AND kids. I had to salvage through the clothing because, as always, when there are items on sale, they hardly EVER have your child’s size.

I get the clothes, other items, and get ready to go. Hubby comes up with daughter. He is in an unpleasant mood because she has been a little monster the entire time she has been in the store. She is almost twelve so I blame it on hormones. God help us all when Auntie Flow pays her a lovely visit. *Cries softly*

I pay for my purchases and head for the door when I realize…

My son’s coat is GONE! He must have flung it out of the cart while I was shopping. So, I go into PANIC MODE thinking someone walked off with it because it is a nice, brown leather jacket. I ask a few people for help. A young male cashier acted as though I was speaking another language so I sought out a woman. Her and another lady aided in my coat retreval. Thank God for honest people. A woman overheard and found the coat. Phew.

(Meanwhile my daughter finds it a “good idea” to walk behind me so I cannot see where she is and I go into yet ANOTHER panic mode because now I think I’ve lost a kid). She’s too old for one of those leash things, right?

So, we make our way back out. It is now seven pm. Did I mention we left at 4:45 in the afternoon?

We are at the restaurant, which looks crowded. My thoughts: Crud. We won’t get a table and will have to wait a half an hour or more with screaming, hungry children. Sigh.

God took pity on me, I guess, because we got a table.

Menus in hand, my daughter proceeds to beg for a massive order, one which we know she won’t eat. So, we get her the smaller version. She INSISTED she would eat what she asked for.

LIES. I know her all too well, but Daddy is a softy.

We wait for our food. My son is still in the “I throw it, you pick it up stage.” So he continuously tosses his sippy cup on the ground along with the silverware the waiter had just placed on the table…within toddler reach–he must not have children.

She gets her food.

“Ew! Yuck. I don’t like this!” Yes, loudly. Why? Because she only has two volumes: Loud and Extremely loud.

At this point I am ready to scream. She begins making faces and picking at her food. Oh, I did give the, “Be on your best behavior and use your manners” speech prior to leaving the house (and reminded before we entered the restaurant). To which she completely ignored.


On the bright side, we had delicious food and made it home at 8:30.


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