Domani, domani, domani...

Well, as my time as single parent comes to an end, I find I can reflect a little on my job performance. Jamie seems to have been doing that too. Despite the fact that this weekend we went to: a birthday party Friday night, another one Saturday morning, went swimming at the Brady's Saturday afternoon, had dinner at his babysitter's house that night, went to the water fountains in the new park in Houston Sunday morning and over to a friend's house that afternoon, I am clearly wimping out. In response to repeated requests that we go to Galveston and the Children's Museum--for different reasons neither should be attempted solo--I have promised we'll do each when Mommy comes back. So when he asked me to do something else and I said the same thing, he sighed and said accusingly, "You always say 'when Mommy comes back.'"

One of the things that is difficult about this single parent stuff is that you never can quite predict where the challenges will arise. I suppose in part to counter such accusations, when Jamie said he wanted to eat at a restaurant today when I picked them up from school, I said, sure, why not. So we went to this Mexican restaurant that has toys outside that the boys can play with. I figure this will be a hit, I can sit in the shade and drink a beer, all will be great. Well, we get there, we order and head outside and Jamie starts playing, so all is well. The food comes and I am just about to start doling it out when Jamie announces he needs the potty. OK, so I pull Connor out of the high seat and off we go. Only in the bathroom do I remember that this restaurant has very aggressive birds that come and eat any food that is left unattended for even a moment. So we go back out and when we get to the door leading outside Jamie exclaims, "DAD!! There are birds all over our table!!!!" Joy. Fortunately, the boys' food was still in foil in the bag, but my burrito, which had been sitting there oh-so-tantalizingly waiting for me, was sullied. Happily, they took sympathy and made me another.

So we settled in for a bit, Jamie played some, ate some, Connor ate and drank lemonade, when Jamie has to go potty again. So this time I wrap all the food up, bring it inside, leave it there and go to the bathroom. Back out we come and are just getting settled again. Connor is waiting on the floor to be lifted in his seat when I knock my beer over and it spills on his arm. Lovely. Now we have what every mother probably fears will happen if she leaves the kid with Dad--her beautiful little boy stinks of beer.

We left pretty soon thereafter because I began to feel a little like the three other people in the restaurant were looking at me like I was nuts and high-tailed it home. Connor, I am glad to report, was bathed and does not smell like beer anymore.