Daddy's Day Out

bath time

So I'm starting to understand why some parents with very young babies hole up in their houses and don't ever go anywhere.  I had Safia to myself for a few hours in the early afternoon and was brazen enough to agree to meet a friend for lunch downtown.  The stage was perfect: she had recently eaten, was happy and awake for about 30 minutes, and was wholly content.  When it was go time, I gingerly slipped her into the car seat and whisked her into the car.  Not a peep, not a rustle, she went straight to sleep.  All the stars must have been aligned, because I even found a nearby parking spot without any trouble (also because most of the college kids have left town) and was strollering toward the restaurant in stride.  We walked in, found my friend, parked the stroller next to the table, and was feeling like Father Extraordinaire!  You feel the ominous set-up here, right?  Food ordered, talking, talking, food arrived, baby sound asleep.  Talking, eating, talking...baby screaming.  Now I know I'm Mr. Sensitive when it comes to causing a commotion in public places (call it my Taiwanese heritage), but she was wailing something fierce.  

Don't mess.

The patrons in the restaurant (nearly all women, come to think of it) all gave the initial, "aww!" when I went ahead and grabbed her from the car seat, but that really didn't make me feel much better.  I reached deep into my bag of baby calming tricks and came up zero - baby still screaming.  So I'm up and bouncing her and walking around the restaurant, going outside, coming back in, thinking, I look pretty looney here.  She would calm for a second or two, but then resume her desperate cries.  I had a bottle with me, but considering our tribulations from yesterday, I surmised a struggle on that front.  I tried it anyway: popped the bottle in and she acted like it was poison.  Now I know that I'm overly sensitive because I was the one holding the baby, but being in public with a scream machine really does put a giant spotlight on your parenting skills.  Defeated, I got my food boxed up (I had eaten maybe 6 french fries and 2 bites of my sandwich), paid the bill, and scooted out of the place.  Now this experience, as scarring as it was, doesn't deter me from wanting to bring Safia out on the town (and she has done very well in the past), as I want, not only to have a life myself, but also to bring her up in a social environment.  To see how people interact, and to embrace the diversity in our culture is very important to us.  So fair warning: if you see us walk into the place you are, I hope you brought earplugs.  

after-bath comforts