Observations From a Restaurant Table..

The last day of February…was a Sunday. I was in a less than peppy mood. I don’t know why, I was just a little deflated. I went about my morning droopy. I conveyed to Aaron that I would cheer up, and to not worry about me. He helped me by letting me chat with him a bit as I finished applying my makeup. I did indeed feel better by the time we left the house.

I had no idea that Aaron was going to surprise me later with a trip to Cracker Barrel. This was such a nice thing to do. I would enjoy the time relaxing in a restaurant, the hum of a crowd, and the smell of food I didn’t have to cook OR CLEAN UP! Eating out isn’t in our dialect. We just hardly do it…OH sure we eat McDonalds, or such, mostly it is picked up in drive through and distributed in the van…Which leaves a dandy mess for me to find….For one thing Aaron set a bit of a standard, not CONCRETE but just a little nudge that said….”We don’t shop on Sunday’s” or “I don’t want to go out, Hun, it’s Sunday.” At first I just wanted to scream…but I found that as time went on…it was kind of nice to not even have the option to run around…Aaron has in the past years found a settling place. A balance between the THOU SHALT NOT…and the THOUST CAN! His main thought is that someone, somewhere had to miss church in order to be your waitress….an interesting thought…never the less…We have made somewhat of an exception here and there…

We pulled into the Cracker Barrel parking lot and the kids were so excited. I looked over my shoulder to see Mary. Her face alive with excitement over this unexpected treat!
“Mommy!!! We gonna eat at Cracker-head??” I chuckled at her…so precious.

“Mom?? Are we gonna eat here?” Moe timidly asked from the back…I guess he still thinks his parents are such nerds that we never can have fun. OR he was suppressing the let-down it would bring if or when we said “no’’.

We pulled in. Amy had already dosed off. Her little tow hair wisped around her little hair bows. She was adorable in her red and black plaid dress. Her tiny white high-tops, her little pom-pom hair bows. She looked like a perfect cherub. I tucked her little sweater around her. We started to pour out of our little Kia Sedona….our 15 passenger was out of operation.

Aaron carried Amy, and had one girl by the hand. I had a girl by the hand, and Nathan. Moses had the bag. We walked along. I am sure we looked like a picture postcard. The kids looked wonderful, I admit I was proud. Aaron was wearing his suit, with a new black dress shirt, and of all things…a stark white tie. I told him he looked like a gangster…he thought it was funny…okay…he could be one of the good guys…..Dick Tracy. Moses was sweet in a soft blue shirt. Amy was of course in a black and red dress, decked all out, in frills. Mary wore a black corduroy jumper with pink accents and matching leggings and socks…Susie wore her (I call it her Catholic school girl dress) Big blue, red, and white plaids and a smart little red sweater to go with…both the big girls had braids going down each side of their face…Nathan, Tan Corduroy pants, plaid dress shirt, and a sweater vest…his hair all but completely shaved off (makes for easier clean up). I also wore plaid, a coordination of maroon, black, and grey. On we marched, towards the front porch of the restaurant.

It already was beginning, the looks, and the smiles, and the downright gawk-i-dry of being in public with all the kiddies. This doesn’t bother me. I know many mothers that it really makes mad. I don’t mind. I enjoy showing off the kids.

We amazingly got a table right off. The poor reception lady was a frazzle when I told her we needed 3 boosters and one high chair and we were seating 7….Of course I didn’t throw it at her like I was her evil-math-teacher. I said it very sweetly. J.

Moses and Aaron were in the bathroom. So I took Amy, Nathan, Mary, and Susie to the table. I used my many finger method…This is where I say “Come Kids.” And I put my hand out making my fingers as far apart as I can…Then Each child will reach up and grab a finger. They all make room for one another while walking, but it helps. I moved really smoothly through the crowd. Which was a miracle. It is very probable that I could have dropped something, Or the kids would trip and then there would be the tears, because a dozen on lookers would all go “Awwwwwww”. (One of the worst things that can be done for a child in public…honestly one of the best things is when people let me handle it and look away, acting like they never saw it….I know it sounds cruel but kids will play that sympathy up and it makes my job soooooo much harder…..) We arrive at our table. I am immediately followed by Aaron…we start the process of getting seats in place…This is probably the most stressful time..because you don’t want to smack some bystander with your purse. Or point a child that spits up over someone’s shoulder. You really really aim to cause the least amount of havoc. All the while keep smiling.

The folks at Cracker Barrel kept trying to put the kids between Aaron and I….I directed them to put all the kiddies at one end…while Aaron and I got to sit opposite one another with Amy to one side. You could see the skepticism. We sat down. The children were all given their coloring menus and crayons. No whining, no fussing, just calm little heads bent over their pages…and then dinner arrived. Again no fuss, not a whine for who got what…..peace….(which I must tell you, was as nice a surprise to me, but still, they do behave at home, so why shouldn’t they behave in public)

The dinner progressed. This brought many people bored with their meal to stare at our table. They would chat, and they just couldn’t help themselves…They would invariably end up head on hand, eyes resting on my little ones. This posture exposed many thoughts and many feelings you feel you can read in their faces. I get this from time to time…sometimes when I am shopping with all the kids. But most people are too rushed to notice…but in a restaurant people have more time to think, and to stare, and…………….what are they doing….I can’t help but feel from my spot at my table with my 5 little ones…I am on some kind of display. Sitting there, the matriarch of the family, feeling at times glad and sad for those who are thinking on my family.

As I take a sip of my Mr.Pibb I can see an elderly couple. They must be in their late 70’s….maybe even 80’s. Her withered hand trembles as she raises her coffee cup. Her downy hair in little lumps that must have been meant to resemble curls. Her gangly husband is in his thin plaid shirt. His very shiny metal glasses are perched just so on his nose…She nudges him, as she places her cup on the saucer. I can see she is talking about my family….because she is old enough to point at my table. She giggles and looks back at her husband….

What are they talking about over there? Those two blessed old folk….Is she thinking of when she was me…Am I by my very presence taking her back to when she was buttoning little cardigans on her little angels…or polishing the little white shoes. Her face is in love with anything my babies do. To her, I can tell, they are precious. I want to go and plop Amy in her lap. And listen to the time “That back in the day…..”

Then there are the middle aged Ladies that just smile. They let their apple cheeks raise up in a big smile. They aren’t as brave as Granny. They watch only until they know I see them. But I know they are watching….because I at times catch them staring. To these ladies my children are a symbol of some kind of hope….My children are like watching a live Norman Rockwell portrait come to life. The serene family moment, Mom and Dad having a lovely chat…while the children happily and calmly nibble their steak fries and chicken fingers.

This is the most likely group to come to me and TELL me they think I have a lovely family, and what a good job I am doing…It is so nice to hear. They are encouraging. I know it wasn’t very long ago that these ladies were in my shoes…They are most likely to tell me of their grandchildren that are “That one’s age” or “About his size”. I exchange pleasantries.

As I sit and continue to enjoy my baked potato I see other faces, the faces that never make contact with me, faces that are sad, or confused.

The couple sitting there, she, in her late 30’s with a gentleman that is looking at something far away. She is lost in the site of 5 children….”What is she thinking” I wonder as I see her eyes….not completely hollow, but just a lost look. This is the look that makes me want to dig into that ladies mind, the ladies my heart breaks for….Did she want a big family? Was she unable to? Is her heart aching at the very sight of my kids? Then I look at him, did he not want anymore? Then I think of the thought….”Did they lose one?” how sad….That would make it hard. I watch her look at my babies and see shadows of thought flicker across her face. Visions of something, that no one will know…but all of their movements are focusing in her mind as she watches my table.

I especially enjoy the reaction from the newly-wed crowd. This crowd is a mix bag of all kinds of emotions “WHOA” or “AWWW” are both in this group. But every now and again you’ll see a young lady with her young man….and they both look at my darlings and they will grin, and she will say something to him…He smiles…looks and then turns back to her…he says something…they giggle, they both look at my kids…then they kiss… I just grin….I remember dreaming with my Honey back, 10 yrs ago. BEFORE children.

I think the most arrogant feeling I get is when I get the looks from other parents who are there with their own children. She is trying to get the baby to take a bite….the baby screams! She is slumped over her plate. The husband is giving a “look” and not at the angry baby…but the mother who didn’t present the spoon full of grits in the “right” manner. She throws a look his way that says “THEN YOU FEED IT!” the toddler on the other side of the table is saying “I want YOUR biscuit!!!”Then starts to flail about “NO…!!!! Mommy….NO NO NO NO!!!!” The father finally leans over and the kid arches his back against the chair and slunks down…in a gross pout…gut stuck out, and chin on chest….The parents look at each other….both of their kids yelping….They look over at my table…

I try to act like I don’t see their pain….remember the advice on the child that falls in public…it goes for embarrassed parents as well…it doesn’t help to look at them with a “knowing” look and say…”Awwwww is she okay??? Or did he want another biscuit??? Pooooooooooor ggguuuuyyyyyyy” It doesn’t help….That mother knows…that her kids are being brats. No soft shoeing around it will change that…Do my kids always act like angels…NO WAY….do they do bratty things YES!!!! But if I sense that they are in crabby disagreeable moods, I DON”T DO RESTAURANTS!!! I know it is coming…it is crazy to expect a child who is prone to anger and madness to all the sudden be everyone’s angel because everyone is watching…Everyone watching only intensifies the confrontation…..Think JR. can’t pick up on your anxious being…..think again…They know when the pressure is on, and when the vote will be in their favor…..That child will GET another biscuit….just wait until that waiter comes…He wants to help keep the kid quiet too!!

The look they send our way would almost make you laugh, if you already hadn’t squelched that, and were in the process of driving down the urge to go and say some very pointed things on the issue of that child’s behavior. They look so tired. They look so bedraggled. They look at you like you are mocking them on purpose…that somehow since your children aren’t massaging potatoes into the table, you make them look all the worse!!!

Things went seamlessly. A gentleman we knew by a mutual friend came and shook Aaron’s hand and told him that he was always impressed with our family. We thanked him. We sat back…and made the motion to leave.

The same faces that were so happy to see us arrive now smile openly at my children in a “farewell” gesture. The old-old couples are waving with abandon, even poking their table mates to do the same to the “sweet babies” as they like to call my little ones.

The Middle aged ladies almost knock their table down to get a chance to tell me…”You have a beautiful family, it was such a Ppllleaaaaasure to see such a nice, nice family sitting all together…what a pleasure. I teach so I know what kids are like and your family is like….WOW…..I know that doesn’t come from nowhere, I tell ya mom, keep up the good work” I just nodded like an idiot…I loved what I was hearing from her, that the kids were a blessing, but never the less it was unexpected…no sooner had she stopped talking than another lady came up to me….her bright blue shirt making her very dark hair only seem that much darker…Her expression was just a burst of excitement as she told me “
I just couldn’t help but notice…your chiilllllldrrrennn (why did both these ladies draw out sounds…so neat…like I was a 5’7” infant that needed to be crooned over), your chiilllddrreen were an ab-so-lute joy. I just loved this little ones hair! (she motioned towards Susanna). They are just all soooo adorable.”

So here we were standing a family of 7…and 2 other ladies swarming around us…and the faces of the dining area all focused our way, or at least that was the way it felt.

I scooted my kiddies through the restaurant…people waved, and ladies leaned out of their tables and said things to the kids…..it was like a mini parade……

Aaron and I all but did a victory dance before we loaded…..”Yes!!! They behaved…the WHOLE time!!!” We of course didn’t say it but we both had this Pleased-as-punch expression.

It wasn’t until we were on our way home, and we were putting tired little bodies down for an afternoon nap that it hit me….The smiles, and the faces, the joy….. I must be careful, and not go into a rant….but as Believers in Christ, I wish more people were having families…..Not just a propagation of the human race, but FAMILIES….there is a difference…A family, brings joy, brings peace, and happiness to their fellow man.

As my children age, they are bringing me so much joy. The love they show. Their little faces beaming with love or their little arms wrapping around my neck, and a little voice saying “Mommy, I love you, you’re my favorite.” I realize I am blessed, I was blessed just from sitting…in a restaurant, on the last day of February.