That dreaded call

You know that call … the one that comes at 10:15pm while you are out with your friends for the evening, thrilled that you’re able to take some time for yourself because Daddy and Baby are looking after each other … the call that starts with a harmless little ditty on the cell phone … a glance at the call display to see that someone (probably Daddy) is calling from home … and then all hell breaks loose!

Before the phone has even made it to your ear, you can hear the screaming … unsure which of the two is making the sound, you tentatively stammer, “hello … is everything OK?” when it so clearly is NOT!! Then you hear the desperation in his voice, “Are you on your way home yet? (part irritation, part anxiety, part wishful thinking) … he’s been crying screaming for an hour and a half – the kid has stamina!”

No, I’m not on my way home. Should I be? Again a stupid question … clearly they both need me. The problem is … I’m an hour away. “OK, “ I say grudgingly, “I’m on my way,” I’m annoyed that my evening is cut short, but mostly feeling guilty that I left frozen milk for them when we already know that my milk does not freeze well (it takes on a metallic taste). “Try taking him for a walk in the stroller.”

One hour later I arrive home. Sliding my key into the lock, I hear complete silence from inside. Perhaps they’re still out walking? No … there he is … in the stroller … fast asleep just inside the door … and there’s Daddy on the couch, with a huge “rescue me” look on his face.

My first Mum’s Night Out was only a partial success, but it did improve with time and experience. First rule? No frozen milk. Second rule? Make sure Daddy is armed with confidence and a plethora of tools to help settle Baby when he’s upset. Third rule? Turn off the cell phone … just kidding (or am I?)

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