Mommy Mondays: Three's Company

So as I mentioned last week, Saturday night was supposed to be a romantic escape for John and me, while our friends Mark and Lauren watched Jack at our house. This was going to be our first night together without Jack in a year, and probably our last for the next two years, since we'll be in Russia soon. We had a lovely hotel room in Annapolis booked, dinner for two at a stylish restaurant reserved, and plans to sleep in, eat in peace, and generally enjoy one another's company without the constant disturbance of a wily two-year-old.

All week I felt like the fates were conspiring against us. First Jackie was acting miserable because of his teeth, and I love Mark and Lauren too much to leave them with an unhappy child. But then he seemed to feel better, and all was well until Tuesday morning when Jack woke up with a terrible rash on his face that turned out to be impetigo (basically a common skin infection) and required a prescription cream application three times a day. Still, by Friday it was nearly cleared up, so I had my fingers and toes crossed that nothing else would stand in our way.

But on Friday night around 10 pm, after Jack was asleep and John and I were just getting ready for bed, the storm from hell hit. The power was out within minutes (not really surprising where we live; the infrastructure here is just crap) and John and I watched from the window as various objects (trash cans, roof shingles, Jack's pool) went flying. I just knew we were in for it. Lo and behold, the power did not come back on that night. I slept sprawled on top of the covers like a starfish. John slept on the couch. By morning the house was like a sauna.

When nap time rolled around our power was still out, we had to accept that we'd be taking Jack to Annapolis with us. Romantic escape indeed. Jack, clearly oblivious to everything (except for the fact that his beloved ceiling fans refused to spin), trooped along amiably, enjoying an ice cream cone with daddy, a swim in the hotel pool, and several trolley rides.

Jack "driving" the trolley with his new penguin, Chickie Chickie.

We cancelled our original reservations and went to dinner across the street from our hotel, at a lovely Italian restaurant that was fortunately crowded and loud, since Jack was definitely not on his best behavior. By the time our entrees came Jack was "done," so I had the waitress cut a piece of chocolate cake in half and bring some to Jack while we ate our dinner and put the rest in a box for us to eat later. It bought us enough time to eat our entrees, but I can't help but wonder what our neighboring diners thought of us feeding chocolate cake to our two-year-old for dinner. Hey, at least he wasn't screaming.

John, Jack, and someone's very patriotic abode.

By some miracle we managed to score an accessible room, so we were able to fit Jack's pack n' play in the bathroom. This worked well enough until 5:30 a.m., when Jack woke up crying. I brought him into bed with us and attempted for an hour and a half to coax him to sleep, but as he rolled into me for the umpteenth time, his pacifier pressed to my nose and his chubby arms draped around my neck, I couldn't help but laugh at the situation. Sure, it wasn't the romantic getaway we'd been hoping for, but there are worse places to be than in a king-size Heavenly bed with your husband and son. And air conditioning. Eventually I put Jack back in the pack n' play with some blocks and John and I managed to get another hour of sleep. Then we did some shopping, packed our car full of fresh groceries, and arrived home to a house without power.

A few hours later, we checked into another hotel. On the bright side, this one has a second bedroom.