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| Ready for our lunch date! |
Had a nice walk through the park today, and meeting another mom for lunch. It's a mom "blind date" - another mom in the neighborhood I've met through social networking. I'm proud of myself for getting Maddy fed and dressed (and myself showered and dressed, which is more of a feat) on time. Maddy was in her perfect 2 hour window between feedings where I could comfortably go out and eat and focus on the introductions. Unfortunately, my lunch date is 30 minutes late. I know I should be more understanding, as I'm now more than ever fully aware that kids run on their own schedule, and your life and time is no longer your own. But I can't help it, I'm annoyed. Lateness is a pet peeve if mine, and something I intensely try to avoid. I wouldn't have minded if she had texted, emailed or something to let me know she was going to be late, but after 30 minutes I had heard nothing.
I'm feeling silly sitting in a nice restaurant with a baby that I'm worried will wake up and start howling any minute. When my lunch date does arrive with her 15 month old girl, she is a whirlwind of info on her baby, playtime distractions and half complete sentences. At one point she nurses her child with no nursing cover, which was a bit awkward. One thing she kept repeating was "this will be you in 15 months". While I know she is right in many ways, I'm hoping I'll be able to hide the frazzled and all over the place core with a more composed exterior. After about an hour, Maddy woke up ready to eat (aka howling like a banshee), and rather than feed her at the restaurant (I don't particularly enjoy nursing in public, and as an added bonus, the restaurant was about 100 feet from my apartment), I decided it was time for our mommy date to end, and brought her home. Thank God, as we experienced our first "blow out"- after nursing her I found poop on her little skirt, and soon discovered it was everywhere - on her carseat, her legs, somehow inexplicably on her face. Needless to say, the rest of the day is spent cleaning her up and doing laundry!
That evening I attempted to make a new recipe for Phil and I and somehow managed to royally botch that as well - I consider myself to be a fairly good cook, but I like to experiment, and some of the recipes I've tried have not won the praise of my husband. This recipe I chose however for its simplicity - a Mexican chicken recipe with four ingredients. FOUR. How do you mess that up? Somehow, I did. Our dinner consisted of a somewhat random THREE ingredient Mexican chicken recipe (Black chicken - not BLACKENED, but black - stained from the failed fourth ingredient), and my husband and I laughing at my sour day, and current poor cooking skills.
Just when I thought I was getting a handle on all things domestic, I get a day that slaps me in the face and reminds me I have a lot to learn. Time to go to bed and try again tomorrow!
