Dining out with kids

The other day, after we dropped Miss 7 off at school, we headed over to a local cafe that I’ve been wanting to try for some time now, Chatterbox espresso bar.

Breakfast and coffee at Chatterbox Espresso Bar

Breakfast and coffee at Chatterbox Espresso Bar

It’s an exceptional spot and if you ever visit Canberra you have to get a latte from here!

When we decide to go out, a little bit of fear starts to appear in my stomach. When we walk past a new Range Rover Sport, that little bit of fear increases to an overwhelming amount of fear.

I almost start crying.

My kids are generally good kids, generally. This morning was a good day but further into our dining experience, we encountered a problem. Miss 1 loves to squeal.

I apologise to the public of Canberra.

Miss 1 wasn’t the problem this morning although she did contribute to the noise of the cafe. Miss 2 (almost 3) needed “tuddle” (that’s a cuddle for those of you who don’t speak 2 year old english) when I was half way through my breakfast. All I wanted was to enjoy my beautiful breakfast but instead I had a two year old that insisted on having a cuddle with her head tucked right into my neck.

I love that my daughters love me. I’ve certainly not always been the favourite but for a while now “I need Daddy” has been the phrase of the day. I never want it to change except for when there is a delicious large breakfast in front of me.

But it’s not just when we are out and about with kids. Tonight whilst watching My Kitchen Rules, Miss 2 insisted on have a cuddle whilst I finished my dinner. What is it with these kids?

It’s almost like they sense that we are enjoying something and feel the need to ruin it.

I should probably add “Dining out with kids: A way to make everyone hate you” to my “10 reasons why I love parenting” post. But for now, I just want to eat a meal in peace without a 2 year old on my lap.

Do your kids annoy you at the wrong time? Let me know in the comments below.

To sleep or not to sleep, that is the question

Now we’ve welcomed number 4 into the world, number 3 is stepping up her game.

Not on call of duty or snakes and ladders, but in the “I don’t give a f*ck what mum and dad want” game.

Recently we’ve been struggling with bedtime. At 7 o’clock, we activate the bedtime routine. This means, TV off, bath, brush teeth and PJs. It’s a pretty flexible routine if I’m being honest and it usually wraps up at about 7:30/8:00 pm.

Call us lazy or neo-liberal parents, I don’t care, it works. Or at least, it did work.

Of late, Miss 3 has decided that she will now be dictating her bed time and if the last few nights are anything to go off, our little girl likes the late shift.

9 pm rolls around and we’re still fighting the good fight. Curse the person (me) who taught her how to open doors.

“Okay darling, time for bed” I say.

“No” replies Miss 3.

“You’re tired” I remind her.

“No” she asserts.

I try and steamroll her with the old ‘quickly tug and run’ job. No joy. She’s determined to send me to an early grave as I feel my blood pressure start to boil.

Last night was the end of the game. Christine decided it was time to implement drastic action and we put one of those plastic-handle-ball-thing on her side of the door.

VICTORY

Until at 11 pm I heard what sounded like a kick on the door. Yep, sure enough during her fight with the plastic-handle-ball-thing, she’d fallen asleep at the door.

You know that slow-motion door open that you do and hope they are far enough away from the door that you can squeeze in and pick up the child? Yeah, that.

DEFEAT

She’s awake again but dad saves the day with a quick manoeuvre into bed and cuddle to send her back to the land of sheep.

VICTORIOUS ONCE AGAIN

It’s a constant struggle. Miss 3 is by far the hardest of the kids so far with brute strength and a determination to make our life hell.

But hey, all part of the parenting journey right?

When have your kids tested your patience?

My top ten reasons why I love being a parent…

Babe, if you get up, I’ll let you sleep in”

1:30 am

I roll out of the bunk beds (1st floor of course) because apparantely a cat nap is all our youngest daughter needs tonight, plus who can resist a sleep in?

I get her up, 10 minutes and she’ll be ready to go back to sleep.

2:07 am

I put her down, tantrum. Bugger.

2:30 am

Why don’t I write a sarcastic blog post about the top 10 things I love about being a parent?

1. As a parent, I can play games with my kids at 2 am.

2. No matter how hungover I am, my kids love me enough to wake me up at 6 am.

3. If my kids shit their pants, I am privileged enough to clean it up.

4. Even if the best football game in the world is on TV, I don’t get to watch it. Instead, I watch Peppa Pig.

5. I no longer have to take a dump alone.

6. When I buy an ice cream, I no longer get to eat it all by myself, I get to share it. With three other people, who have already eaten their ice creams.

7. I can no longer spend any more time than it takes to eat a meal at any restaurant or pub. Upon completion of said meal, we get to leave, ASAP.

8. I know every word of the following movies:

– Despicable Me 2,

– Despicable Me,

– Finding Nemo,

– Frozen,

– Smurfs 2,

– Smurfs 1,

– The Lion King, and

– Tangled.

9. I get to buy a loaf of bread and 3 litres of milk at least 4 times a week, and last but certainly not least,

10. I no longer have any time or money to spend on a hobby such as golf. Instead, I blog about how much I love my kids at 2:30 am.

So there is 10 reasons why I love being a parent. What’s yours? Leave a comment below!