Lessons in Mommyhood: Two Outings is Too Many

Today I finally got to church for the first time since Davyd was born.  Our morning went very smoothly.  We even got out of the house with time to spare.  We arrived at church and were greeted by many friends who ogled over our little man. Davyd was wonderful at church.  He slept most of the time, got up once to eat, and then promptly fell asleep again. On the way home from church, Matt and I engaged in the typical "What on earth are we going to eat today?" conversation.  We finally decided to use one of the gift cards that we got when Davyd was born to go out for dinner.

This is the decision that caused the evening to spiral into a whirlwind of crying, eating, fighting sleep, more crying, and more eating.  It was very clear to us that Davyd was overly tired (Yes, my mother warned me to be careful not to let him get overly tired.  "It'll make for an unpleasant day", she said. Well Ma, you are right as usual). Finally after several conversations in which Matt and I attempted to figure out what to do (which sometimes consisted simply of confused, frustrated stares), our dear little screaming child fell asleep on his father's chest on his own.

*Cue Hallelujah Chorus*

Minutes later, Matt and I had this conversation:

Matt: (whispering) I think I'm going to put him in his swing.

Me: (also whispering) If you do, and he wakes up and starts crying, I'm going to go outside, get into the car, and drive.  I'm not sure when I'll stop.  I imagine that I will, but I don't know when.

Matt: I'll keep holding him.

He's still sleeping on Matt's chest.  Davyd has a wonderful father. I have a wonderful husband.

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