Note to self: baby-sitters can be a good thing.

We planned to meet up with my family tonight at Abuelo's to celebrate my brother's birthday. (My baby brother is 19. How is that possible?) I had it all worked out in my head: our reservations were for 5:15 and Beckett had woken up from his nap at 2:45, we needed a half hour to drive up there so he could take a quick nap in the car at 4:45 and be a happy little Chunk through dinner. Sawyer would be hungry and would sit nicely and chow on cheese quesadillas and chips. And I would get to enjoy my bacon-wrapped steak and shrimp.

Well, having lived with my children since the beginning of their existence, I should know to never form expectations for outings. Because the way they behaved in the restaurant was definitely some damn good birth control for all the other patrons.

Sawyer's dining experience went something like this: Kick and scream when Daddy tries to put me in the high chair. Throw crayons. Crumble chips. Run to another empty table to sit. Kick and scream. Grab glass box of artificial sweetener packets. Walk around taunting mom that I might drop and break said box. Kick and scream at another high chair attempt. Be taken outside. Come back inside. Throw artificial sweetener packets in the fountain. Hurl more chips and crayons across the table. Complain loudly from the high chair. Notice everyone is ignoring me, so scream even louder. Be taken back outside, where I yell for Grandma over and over. Wait until Mommy and Daddy box up their food and are leaving to stop yelling and ask to go back inside. Cry for Grandma and Anna the whole way home.

Beckett just plain didn't want to sit still and protested very loudly about it. Rather than falling asleep on the way home like I expected, he cried and was so hysterical when we got home that he wouldn't nurse.

So, we spent about twenty minutes total in the restaurant (which happens to be my favorite) and I got to box up most of my 18-dollar entree without touching it. The steak and pappas just weren't the same out of the microwave five hours later.

You can read my husband's rendition of our evening here. He went into much greater detail (and I think he pays more attention than I do).

I think that as consolation, I should totally win the pink Dyson that 5 Minutes For Mom is giving away. Dyson is even donating the full value in cash to the Breast Cancer Research Foundation, so everyone wins! Check them out, leave a plug in your blog and you have a chance at winning too. But hurry, tonight's your last chance! (And besides, it's mine anyway!)