Last night my husband and I kept our nearly decade-long tradition of going to a great restaurant on our corner for an early dinner before settling in to count down the end of 2012 with my man Anderson Cooper (and Kathy Griffin) on CNN. This time, of course, Baba G was with us, and he impressed the other patrons with his snazzy outfit.
The other diners were less impressed with his table-banging whenever he got bored, but a steady supply of Puffs, an applesauce squeezy-packet thingy and some quiet toys kept him happy the majority of the time, and we were able to wolf down three courses and return home in an hour flat.
When we got back, BG made it clear he was not going to last until midnight.
But he did have one last second wind before bedtime.
What's crazy to me is that on New Year's Eve last year, I was (obviously) pregnant, and even though my due date wasn't until January 14, I was CONVINCED that I was going to go into labor while at the restaurant, and that then we were going to have the "B-team" of doctors and nurses who drew the short stick for the holiday shift at the hospital. (Though I'm sure whomever gets stuck working those nights is just as qualified and professional — but it really was a huge fear of mine.)
Little did I know that I still had over three weeks of waiting for Baba G to make his move, as he didn't arrive (and when he did, it was not even by his choice) until 10 days after my due date. I should've had an extra dessert that night, dammit.
I hope you all had a wonderful time over the holidays. Baba G got (too many) cool toys that I'm excited to tell you all about soon. But for now, I'm going to enjoy this one last day of avoiding the real world, work, and the cold weather outside.
Here's to a great 2013...