Embarrassing times in the ATL

I realize that my very limited experience as Luki's slave a mom does not qualify me to dispense any parenting advise, however, as a general rule of thumb, and based on the events of this week, I can wholeheartedly assert the following: It is NOT a good idea to wean a three and half month old off his pacifier only to take him on a four night business trip to Atlanta a week later. Completely unarmed against his extensive repertoire of cries, screams, and wails, I came this close to sticking a barbecue rib in his mouth during dinner last night. I refrained…but only because the waitress had already given us so many dirty looks, she would have most definitely called Child Protective Services if she saw our toothless son nibbling on the nightly special.

Even though Luki orders the supersized combo at McBoob’s six to eight times a day, he refuses to sit idly by when it’s  our dinnertime. At home, Ton Ton and I have gotten used to eating in shifts – one of us holds the screaming baby, while the other gobbles up whatever’s for dinner. Then we switch. Chewing is a luxury we cannot afford.

However, this procedure is much more unpleasant to execute in a restaurant full of patrons who are sneering and jeering at the world’s worst parents. And I know that’s what they were thinking because, had I seen such a spectacle a mere year ago, I would have whispered something like, “that baby belongs at home” or “they must have done something for him to be screaming that loudly” in Ton Ton’s ear. I’ve learned my lesson, and, if it were possible to go back in time, I would say to my self from twelve months ago: “Self, why don’t you get your nose out of that family’s business and focus on savoring your meal because, after next year, you won’t have time to detect that hint of ginger in your salad for a few decades.”

Alas, our misadventures in Atlanta’s restaurants are just a drop in the bucket of embarrassing moments sponsored by our dear son this past week. I’d have to say that our ultimate low point happened in the Sheraton at around 11:00 p.m. one night. We had tried everything, short of dipping my nipple in Johnny Walker Black, to get Luki to sleep, but he just wasn’t interested. Instead, he opted for screaming as if we were testing  a new line of torture devices on his body. When our next door neighbor expressed his exasperation by banging on our wall, I was utterly and completely mortified. 

And yet, call us crazy, but despite all the red in the face incidents, Ton Ton and I both agree that we would do it again in a heartbeat. You see, we decided to take this trip because it would allow us more time with our baby than if we spent the week at home going to our regular jobs. My conference was right in the hotel where we were staying, so I was able to breast feed and play with Luki during my breaks, and, when I was busy, Luki got to hang out and bond with his dad, instead of our nanny. In the end, that uninterrupted family time was worth all the sneers, jeers, and midnight wall bangs in the world.

I just hope he's old enough to enjoy the barbecue next time.