Since long before Arabella was born, we swore we weren’t going to let having a baby control us. By that I mean, we weren’t going to be the parents who turned down 8pm dinner plans because it was bedtime— and we weren’t going to rush home midday because it was nap time. There would NOT be a schedule in the Brooks house. St. Patrick’s day weekend, however, I learned that even the chillest parent on the planet is still very much a prisoner to sleep— and lack thereof.
Our good friend Jason was visiting from DC and we were excited to show him the city. He got in late Friday after Arabella was asleep, so we had some beers and pizzas at the house and functioned like the old Trina and Jarmon. The ones who existed pre baby. Then came Saturday morning. I’m pretty sure it took Jason about thirty seconds of witnessing the chaos around him to realize that times had changed. Arabella wanted food. Baxter wanted Arabella’s food. Arabella wanted to play. Baxter thought that meant playtime for everyone— and took to crying by his toy bin bright and early. The crying quickly turning to incessant barking once he got a toy. It was a circus— and a typical morning in the Brooks’ house.
Jason wanted to see the river— and even though we didn’t get out the door by 9 like he’d hoped— it was still pretty green when we got there around noon. Arabella got to ride for the first time in the big girl seat of her stroller.
We took some photos then hit Labriola for lunch and drinks. It had good good, good drinks and was mercifully child-friendly.
We headed back to the house after lunch because we knew Arabella, who had already missed her first nap of the day, desperately needed a nap before her St. Patrick’s day party. But when we got home, Arabella wasn’t interested in sleeping. Not even a little. When we finally got her to a point of maybe tolerating the crib she tossed, turned and cried for about an hour before finally falling asleep at 4:30p. The party started at 5p and was 20 minutes away. Needless to say, Arabella wasn’t celebrating St. Patrick’s day— and we weren’t getting a few hours to show Jason around sans baby.
Jarmon volunteered to stay at home with Arabella while Jason and I went out for a bit. We stopped at the Trump Hotel and McCormick and Schmick’s before stopping by Giordano’s to say hi to Jason’s friends. At night, I stayed home with Arabella while Jarmon and Jason continued the festivities at parlor. Parental teamwork at its finest.
It was a great day, but it definitely didn’t pan out like we’d planned. And that continued on Sunday. We had planned to go out to dinner when I got home from work, but Arabella was off schedule and wasn’t having it. So instead of fighting it, we gave in and called it a night with some Portillo’s takeout.
Moral of the story: We aren’t planners— and for good reason. Even the best laid plans don’t stand a chance against a sleepy baby.
Trina Orlando 