"I'm makin' waffles."
We took the kids out for brunch yesterday. I’m not a big brunch kind of guy; more of a three square meals punctuated by frequent snacks kind of guy. For this reason, we don’t do brunch very often, so I need a good reason to go out, like a fully stocked waffle bar on the brunch line.
Our good reason for going out was to meet with family members. With our family living three hours away from most of the rest of our families, we plotted to meet grandparents, great-grandparents, and a few other people that Ellie says we’re related to at a restaurant half way between us in rural Iowa. That way, relatives can see the kids without taxing anyone’s nap schedule too much.
I’m finally learning that leaving the house always takes longer than I think it will. I started prepping the kids an hour before our scheduled departure time of 10am, packing feeding paraphernalia, picking out suitable car entertainment, and frequently checking all three children for their inevitable morning poop. 15 minutes before departure, everything non-human going on the journey was in the car, every child had pooped, and I started loading children. Through my efforts, I put the car in reverse at precisely 10am. Not that we arrived on time since the drive took 15 minutes longer than we thought, but our lateness was small enough to blame on the kids, so everything worked out.
I thought the drive down would be a problem even though it fell during the boys’ naptime, but it went smoothly. The boys napped almost the entire drive, or at least sat quietly, while Abbie watched her DVDs. She complained periodically, but once we found her Sesame Street DVD, we had clear and quiet driving the rest of the way.
I’ve been to our targeted restaurant for brunch before. It’s a magical eatery that only appears in rural America. The seating is folding chairs around circular card tables covered with white linen. The wait staff is almost entirely kids from the local high school. The brunch buffet is magnificent with fresh carved ham and roast beef, salmon, eggs prepared in multiple styles, a dessert table filled with confections that could have come straight from the town church’s bake sale, and of course a waffle bar.
At least that’s the way it used to be. Now they have permanent seating, a full-time wait staff, and doughnuts that look like they came from the next town’s gas station. They also eliminated the “unch” part of the buffet, focusing on breakfast, so no more beef or desserts, and the ham is in hunks in a steam table. Sadly the waffle bar must have been too “unch” because it’s gone as well.
I didn’t have to worry about feeding the boys because we had relatives to care for them. I’m assuming they fed them because the boys disappeared soon after arrival in a flurry of aunt and grandmother hugs and kisses, and they seemed content when they reappeared shortly before departure. We scrounged up a meal for Abbie from the “br” line. I thought she’d pig out since they had some of her favorites like yogurt, papaya, and ham. Instead she treated the yogurt like finger paint, spit out the papaya, and threw the ham. I forgot that she turns into a picky eater* outside the home. She wasn’t even very interested in the fries, although in her defense they were waffle-cut. I think we snuck enough yogurt supplemented with the occasional chocolate milk into her to call it a meal.
We continued our family visit at a nearby park afterwards, allowing me to run off some ham, and Abbie to plain run. This being rural Iowa, everything on the playground was old and crafted with a metal motif. With the 10-foot tall slides and swings so high up that I had to jump to sit on them, it was decidedly non-toddler safe. They did have a well-oiled metal merry-go-round and large open spaces, so we found things to do while relatives fawned over how well behaved the children are after a meal, and how furious they can be as naptime approaches.
We left shortly after the boys hit meltdown in anticipation of their nap. I thought they might have trouble sleeping in the car, but again they slept or at least stayed quiet for the entire drive. Even Abbie napped.
We returned home in time for supper. I fed the children their normal meal. My meal was a few light foods scrounged from the fridge. I was still too full to eat a real meal, though if I were hungry, I probably would have made waffles.
* More so than normal.
Our good reason for going out was to meet with family members. With our family living three hours away from most of the rest of our families, we plotted to meet grandparents, great-grandparents, and a few other people that Ellie says we’re related to at a restaurant half way between us in rural Iowa. That way, relatives can see the kids without taxing anyone’s nap schedule too much.
I’m finally learning that leaving the house always takes longer than I think it will. I started prepping the kids an hour before our scheduled departure time of 10am, packing feeding paraphernalia, picking out suitable car entertainment, and frequently checking all three children for their inevitable morning poop. 15 minutes before departure, everything non-human going on the journey was in the car, every child had pooped, and I started loading children. Through my efforts, I put the car in reverse at precisely 10am. Not that we arrived on time since the drive took 15 minutes longer than we thought, but our lateness was small enough to blame on the kids, so everything worked out.
I thought the drive down would be a problem even though it fell during the boys’ naptime, but it went smoothly. The boys napped almost the entire drive, or at least sat quietly, while Abbie watched her DVDs. She complained periodically, but once we found her Sesame Street DVD, we had clear and quiet driving the rest of the way.
I’ve been to our targeted restaurant for brunch before. It’s a magical eatery that only appears in rural America. The seating is folding chairs around circular card tables covered with white linen. The wait staff is almost entirely kids from the local high school. The brunch buffet is magnificent with fresh carved ham and roast beef, salmon, eggs prepared in multiple styles, a dessert table filled with confections that could have come straight from the town church’s bake sale, and of course a waffle bar.
At least that’s the way it used to be. Now they have permanent seating, a full-time wait staff, and doughnuts that look like they came from the next town’s gas station. They also eliminated the “unch” part of the buffet, focusing on breakfast, so no more beef or desserts, and the ham is in hunks in a steam table. Sadly the waffle bar must have been too “unch” because it’s gone as well.
I didn’t have to worry about feeding the boys because we had relatives to care for them. I’m assuming they fed them because the boys disappeared soon after arrival in a flurry of aunt and grandmother hugs and kisses, and they seemed content when they reappeared shortly before departure. We scrounged up a meal for Abbie from the “br” line. I thought she’d pig out since they had some of her favorites like yogurt, papaya, and ham. Instead she treated the yogurt like finger paint, spit out the papaya, and threw the ham. I forgot that she turns into a picky eater* outside the home. She wasn’t even very interested in the fries, although in her defense they were waffle-cut. I think we snuck enough yogurt supplemented with the occasional chocolate milk into her to call it a meal.
We continued our family visit at a nearby park afterwards, allowing me to run off some ham, and Abbie to plain run. This being rural Iowa, everything on the playground was old and crafted with a metal motif. With the 10-foot tall slides and swings so high up that I had to jump to sit on them, it was decidedly non-toddler safe. They did have a well-oiled metal merry-go-round and large open spaces, so we found things to do while relatives fawned over how well behaved the children are after a meal, and how furious they can be as naptime approaches.
We left shortly after the boys hit meltdown in anticipation of their nap. I thought they might have trouble sleeping in the car, but again they slept or at least stayed quiet for the entire drive. Even Abbie napped.
We returned home in time for supper. I fed the children their normal meal. My meal was a few light foods scrounged from the fridge. I was still too full to eat a real meal, though if I were hungry, I probably would have made waffles.
* More so than normal.
posted by Matt at
11:41 PM
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