We recently celebrated our twelfth anniversary. A couple of friends volunteered to watch our munchkins, but even with childcare arraignments, we weren’t sure if it would be much of an outing. We haven’t been able to get Lukas to drink from a bottle. When Kurt tries to offer the bottle Lukas does nothing. When I attempt to offer it to him he looks at me as if to say, “Don’t give me that silicone crap! I know you have the real deal under that sweater.” Actually, that was more of a Sophia attitude. Lukas is much more laidback. He’ll accept the silicone boob-replacement, but he requires that the formula be squirted into his mouth. He’ll suck on silicone pacifier all day long, but he won’t suck on a bottle nipple. That’s just asking too much.
Before leaving I tried to nurse the boy as much as he would take so that we could have at least two to three hours of adult conversation without Sophia, hands held up on either side of her chin with her palms up, yelling at the top of her three-year-old lungs, “I don’t say! I don’t say! I don’t say!” Anytime she speaks gibberish Kurt will just look at her and say, “Ya don’t say?” So she turned it around and that is what she yells until one of us inevitably gives her attention by bursting into laughter.
Dinner began with a crab cake appetizer. My main course was some awesomely buttery tasting scallops and Kurt ordered steak and prawns. For dessert, we split a blackberry cobbler with ice cream. It looked sloppy with the berry juice spilling over the ramekin, but tasted fantastic. And that was the point when I realized I needed to change my TV watching preferences. When part of a meal critique is how it is plated…I watch way too much of the food network. As I cook, I also find myself paying attention to my knife cuts. Another thing to occupy my mind…No good can come of this.
After dinner, we called our sitters to see how Lukas was doing and decide if we wish to risk subjecting our babysitting victims volunteers to a fussy hungry infant by going to a movie. They informed us that he actually drank about an ounce of formula. Great success! It wasn’t enough to constitute a full infant meal, but it was enough to bide more time. We continued our date to include viewing the movie, “True Grit”. Great movie. The only thing that bothered me about it was that twice characters in the movie alluded to the main character being ugly and she was not. Either throw those lines out, cast an ugly girl, or use a little make-up to make her ugly. I have no visual imagination. I need some props over here! *smacking the back of one hand into the palm of the other three times in rapid succession* I need the girl to look ugly! M’kay?
We arrived back home, yawning, at eleven. Yeah we really know how to paint the town red don’t we? It was perfect timing because Lukas was just beginning to get fussy. He smiled when he saw me. I realize that’s a great milestone, but the smiling boy sometimes weirds me out a little. His smiles are often huge when he knows it’s about time to eat that my mind sometimes run through Oedipus scenarios. You see, I have enough to occupy my mind. I don’t need to add knife cuts to that mix.
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I was just now reaching up in to my cupboard to retrieve the juice pitcher for orange juice, when I read the little yellow splash add on a bottle of rice vinegar. “No Preservatives”, it read. Suddenly up became down and cats and dogs began living happily together.
