It was October when I last posted here. I’d like to say my New Year’s Resolution was to write more, but I’ve long sense given up on New Year’s Resolutions. Actually, Lent has been a surprisingly more effective holiday (holiday?) to make grand life changes. That’s funny because I’m a fake Catholic, and only give into it because Diabla forces me.

This is the long away around saying that the other night Diabla says to me, “You haven’t written about my baby in a long time.” “Oh, yeah, I know… When do I have the time, you know?” To which she replied, “Make the time.” So, just like giving up smoking, giving up sodas and giving up making horrible financial decisions that will ultimately affect my future, I am back. We all have Dibs to thank!

3ish months in real life goes by without much thought. Chances are you or I haven’t changed much in 3ish months, maybe we gained a pound or two, but not too much is different. In baby time 3ish months goes by and you’re dealing with a completely different human. 3ish months goes by, and you’ve got a kid who is now running, throwing and kicking balls, developing language, playing with iPad apps and knowing exactly how to push your buttons.

I still think I’m were blessed with the golden child, and that sentiment is what leads me to tonight’s story.

A couple of week’s ago, Grayson and I experienced our latest edition of Grayson and Daddy’s Super Duper Awesome Friggin’ Weekend. Dibs was in Vegas being on her best behavior (right?!), and the boys were left at home to fend for themselves. Both Gray and I love these male bonding weekends. We walk around in white tees, socks and undies, sneak ice cream, spend most of our time at the park (we wear clothes there) and watch a ton of sports. We also eat out a lot, because, well, restaurants can cook better than me. Don’t worry, we’re super picky about where he eats out, and what he eats when we’re out. It’s not like we give him McDonald’s (Strange I just got completely sidetracked and tried to go to the McDonald’s website, and it didn’t work. If you saw my tweet, just know I’m not sitting at home going to McDonald’s site totally randomly… only sort of randomly.) We’ll get him grilled chicken and corn, carrots or something of that variety. Of course, anyone who has met Gray knows he’s a TexMex junky (what 17 month old isn’t?), so we’ll also get him bean and cheese burritos.

This particular weekend, Gray and I are having lunch at Chuy’s, a TexMex joint, in Uptown. Tons of families around us, and loads of kids. When we go to restaurants together, especially without Dibs, I have a checklist of things to bring. Here it is:

  • Brown Bear, Brown Bear What Do You See
  • The Hungry Little Caterpillar
  • Clementine Cuties
  • Grapes
  • Peek A Boo iPhone App (for emergencies)
  • And, any small toy

We always have the best time, and he’s always real chill. These things are a precaution, and besides the perishable items, are rarely used. We’re sitting at Chuy’s, and we’re surrounded by the absolute worst kids in the history of kids. In front of us there’s a little girl absolutely screaming and throwing her food. To our left there’s this terrible child refusing to sit in his high chair as his mom attempted to give him pureed grossness. Don’t get me wrong, I respect the hell of that woman for taking the time to make pureed grossness (or having their nanny do it), but you’re going to take a kid around all that deliciousness and serve up some green goop? Uh, ok. To our right, there’s a table full of girls that Grayson spends most of lunch flirting with. And, lastly, walking passed us was a parade of just horrible children.

Meanwhile, there’s Grayson, judging, flirting and eating the shit out his delicious burrito, while we laugh at that caterpillar for not having the sense to eat a burrito on Saturday instead of all that nonsense he ate instead. Really, hungry caterpillar? Salami and a lollipop?

Everyone has those days, you know? Those days when their kids are real assholes. I’m just lucky those days are few and far between for us.

Maybe it’s his awesomeness, maybe it’s us being prepared just in case. Either way, something is working, and I’m sure I’ll regret posting this next time we’re at a restaurant and he’s acting like an asshole.