Me & Golden Corral

One of my fondest memories of our year with our foreign exchange daughter Mariya was the day we took her to Golden Corral for the first time. Mariya loved our very American concept of "free refills" and introducing an entire restaurant where you could get "free refills of everything?!?!" knocked her socks off. After the hour-long requisite gorging of all things gravy and carbohydrates, we introduced her to another very American concept: taking a nap in your car in the parking lot. (Or is this just something we do?) There we were: Josh, Mariya, and seven-month pregnant me taking a little siesta before going to play putt-putt golf.

I think of that meal a lot these days when I am feeding Tucker. I think of it because I have turned into the Golden Corral. Mister Man is gaining weight faster than the standard "ounce a day" and that must be because he finds himself at the Boob Buffet ridiculously often these days. The main difference between Golden Corral and me is that after our cat nap in the car we had to leave the premises and were not allowed to cry and get back to our dessert bar. Tucker's meals last for an HOUR. He eats, then naps, then I (stupidly) think he is done and attempt to move on with my day, so he immediately wakes up and cries for more. I genuinely have had some days recently where I am not sure why I bother to wear a shirt at all.

Well, I guess I know the answer to that: We have really big windows. That, and let me just insert this here for Hudson's reference:

Dear Hudson,

Son, I am sure this would best be addressed to your future wife or therapist, but I am not sure who will need to read it first, so I will just write it to you. I apologize for the amount of "working boobs" (as your father calls them) that you have seen recently. I am sorry that I cried when you stepped on my chest last Friday. It was pure instinct.

I appreciate that you don't mind reading books while your brother eats as you say, "all the time". And I know that you are very bright and into all things mechanical, but I am not going to change my mind-- No, you can not play with my breast pump. So quit asking.

Love,

Mama

I have a feeling someone is going to get to watch more TV this week than normal. At least if his little brother's growth spurt continues he will. Alrighty, well, it is 11:43 p.m. and I better go. I thought the buffet was closed, but someone is now rooting around again.

Ahhhh...putting my toddler to good use and giving myself a BREAK!