…and I never was.
Well, okay, when Daniel was 2 or 3 and his sensory dysfunction was at its worst because he couldn’t articulate, I was that mom ignoring her kid screaming his bloody head off in a restaurant but who could hear him? His left vocal cord is paralyzed so at that age no one could hear him. Still I enjoyed the hate-filled, dirty, your-child-is-ruining-my-fine-dining-experience-here-at-Applebees looks from folks because obviously something was wrong with my child. I got it after a couple of times. Actually I got it not for the sake of those dining around me or the wait staff but for the sake of my son.
Although I have never shied away from taking the whole circus act out to dinner at all ages and stages when we could afford it, I realized that there is truth to the wisdom of Solomon that for everything there is a season and a time. When Daniel was a toddler who just could not deal with being confined in a high chair assaulted by the cacophony of loud voices, clanging cutlery, music that was not his choice or volume and this weird textured, smelly stuff they call food that people put in their mouths, I accepted the fact that this was not the time for him to enjoy the experience of eating out at a casual dining establishment. I was a little disappointed because it meant that I couldn’t then get out of the kitchen to sit down with my family at a restaurant but how enjoyable was it really when my son was stressed out to the point of mental and emotional anguish? Really? I am not that mom that can dig into my chicken fajitas platter, suck down my iced tea, engage in conversation with the hubs and ignore my screaming child. It clearly isn’t enjoyable for him so how the heck can it be a pleasant experience for me, nevermind anyone else around our table?
But like all seasons in our children’s lives, that time was very brief. I soon figured out how to keep Daniel happily distracted from the sensory assaults that is a casual dining establishment…thank you Hot Wheels, iTouch apps and Nintendo!…and he was mature enough to understand the expectations of how one should behave when dining with the family circus in a restaurant and eventually he gave up tube feedings to discover that the kids’ menus rock. When we can afford it, we do take the entire circus act out to a casual; dining place near you. Consider yourself warned.
So what has brought this on? Of course a recent dining experience but also a recent post by Lindsay over at Suburban Turmoil. Lindsay shared recently that she is that mom and her defense for it. I have to admit that I wanted to join the flurry of comments and wisdom being shared as a result of that post. Obviously I had my 2¢ to share but then I stopped myself. I like Lindsay and I enjoy her writing. We may differ on some things when it comes to parenting but the girl is my kind of mama. But I stopped myself also after my own dining experience last Tuesday with Daniel, Jodie, Holly and her daughter, Hazel. Hazey-Face is a very active, rambunctious and, sometimes, loud toddler. While we were enjoying our “family dining experience” at the local Chili’s, I couldn’t help notice the evil, angry looks from a diner two tables away from us. The 50-something lady seemed displeased that Hazel was there in her high chair banging her spoon on the table and loudly demanding her share of her mommy’s dinner. It was obvious that my darling, but loud, grand daughter was ruining her dining experience. She wasn’t crying, screaming or shrieking but she was loud…in a loud restaurant. Holly, who arrived at the restaurant before her brother, sister and myself, told me that the matron had been shooting dirty looks her way since she and Hazel were seated in our booth. Why? Who knows? Who really cares either? I mean it was a family style, loud, restaurant. It wasn’t the quaint, hole in the wall, dark bistro where soft, cool jazz is playing. Hazel’s antics actually were drowned out by the cacophony of activity around us. I think the lady was just pissed because she was obviously a baby and she was in the restaurant. Clearly children like her should not be seen nor heard in that lady’s opinion. I came to this conclusion as she and her dining companion got up to leave at the close of their meal. The gentleman smiled at us as he walked by. The lady, she glared as I looked up and made direct eye contact with her as I smiled in her direction.
Whatever! I mean at least I dressed up a little but then again, anything is dressing up compared to pajama pants isn’t it?
I may not be that mom but I guess I am that grandmom and for that I am glad that I stayed out of the discussion over at Lindsay’s blog.
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