Wednesday, 3 June 2015

Coffee With Kids (or how to ruin a perfectly civilised activity)

Before our kids came along my dear husband and I used to love our weekend coffee date. It would be a long affair, which would include a couple of cups of coffee each, a croissant or a cookie and a lot of talking. It used to be such a special place and such a special time, that we often saved a lot of our 'scheming' for the weekend coffee date.

I used to love the whole ritual - ordering the coffee, then sinking into the sofa, talking and sharing all our plans, my husband taking notes in his old notebook. It was where the idea of adoption was conceived, it was where we went after our first scan with O. It was what we did the day after my dad passed away, bringing a touch of old normalcy into the new reality. The coffee house was where we went after a long run, or before a trip to the cinema.

And so, with that idealised notion in mind, we decided to venture out for coffee as a family. The four of us! We have been before, as a pit stop during a shop, and I have been with one of the boys, then with the other at different times, but we had never in the past set out to just go for coffee.

What were we thinking? What were we thinking?

For one there was a queue. But it was OK as both boys were fairly quiet and happy to look around. For five seconds! I volunteered to go get the coffee, leaving poor D to entertain the two boys. Suffice to say that half the shop was already looking at us, so, of course, instead of helping I shuffled away heartlessly leaving D on his own...

I watched from afar, as my unflappable husband managed to get J into a child seat and get him interested in a put-the-wooden-stirrer-in-the-straw game. He then took the baby off his seat, where he had been whining and sat him up on his knee. Things were looking up.

After a longer delay than expected I got our drinks (ahhh, the same old drinks we used to have when we had all the time in the world) and a few things to eat. I had, luckily, remembered to pack a juice and a snack for J too. The minute I sat down, of course, O started crying for food.

Before even a sip from my coffee I took him and wondered whether I could breastfeed in the busy coffee shop. I had done it before, but never at such close proximity to a complete stranger... I decided that I would go outside to feed O, instead. As I lifted my shirt I noticed J turning his juice upside down...

To cut a long story short, or in fact a short story even shorter, we didn't last more than twenty minutes. I did not finish my coffee and neither of us had a chance to have a bit of the croissant. We walked to our car, both fairly agitated, and we drove home in relative silence. The kids of course fell asleep. Which meant that they then missed their nap when we got home. Which meant that by 4 o'clock that afternoon we were both looking at our watches and counting down until bedtime...

What were we thinking?

The next day we stayed at home, and had a cup of tea and a chat while the kids had their late morning nap. Bliss!
Here's what my teabag said... 

1 comment:

  1. You do entertain me with your tales! You write it soooooooo well xxxxx



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