Last night Mark and I decided to go see a movie. An actual new-ish release on the big screen. Exciting times for parents of a breastfeeding baby who thinks pumped milk in a bottle is only to be used for blowing raspberries! At the suggestion of a friend, we went to the drive in so we could take Baby C with us.
Brilliant right? We raved about the sheer genius of it! What could be easier then leaving our big girls with their awesome aunt, bringing along Baby C and everything she needed in a diaper bag and my boobs?! Mark even remembered a flashlight and a lighter for the bug repelling diffuser (diluted tea tree oil nothing toxic).
As we drove, we were in that happy parent place of astonishment we'd never thought of going to the drive in before and euphoria of two Friday night dates in a row. Baby C wasn't even yelling during the drive. This was so going to be a good night!
We parked; nixed the idea of sitting in the back with the hatch open as we didn't have pillows or blankets; re-parked; grabbed popcorn and drinks; almost dropped said confections; and set ourselves up for almost three hours of Dark Knight Rises. We were even so bold as to make plans for future return trips.
I loved the nostalgic feel from the neon signed snack bar serving the standards but also deep fried pickles and onion rings to the national anthem starting the show and the Looney Tunes cartoon lead-in with no trailers. I loved seeing people in pajamas and questionably shaped bottles hidden in paper bags tucked under camping chairs. Baby C was happy to hang out with us as we waited.
And then it got dark.
And then it got loud.
And then Baby C decided to kick the dials on the console repeatedly switching the station so we'd lose the sound among other things. Make note of this last bit, it is key.
In our delerium, we'd forgotten that Baby C isn't a newborn nor is she a toddler. Newborns are easy. All they need is a boob. Seven month olds? Not so much Toddlers are chatty and get tired but can be distracted with food, games, and snuggles. Seven month olds? Not so much.
Let me cut to the chase in case you haven't already guessed: Baby C hated -with all of her 28" and 24lbs-the drive in! Try fighting that in a small space. She wanted to be in her bed, on her sheepskin, with a soft light glowing and relative quiet. She did not want to be cradled, carried, or rocked. She did not want to lie down in the bucket seat beside me and nurse. What was I, new? Why did I think my child who despises the car would want to spend three hours in it just because she was in my arms? The punching, biting, scratching, kicking, and screaming was giving the surround sound a run for its money. And every time she settled for 30 seconds the action in the movie would rise and the soundtrack would boom! Or, Mark would just have to have a man-ful of popcorn or fumble for a drink. Finally about two hours into the movie-no I'm not exaggerating but yes she only started to act up 45minutes in-she fell asleep. And the truck warning lights all flared, beeped, and died.
Yep. That's right. I was now sitting in a full theatre parking lot/field with a cranky baby finally sleep on top of my exposed chest, my cell phone battery at 20% and my engine light is on. It seems, our beloved baby in her wild thrashing as we passed her back and forth, hit the a/c dial. And we didn't notice because it was on low, already cool from the sunroof being open and loud from her and the movie.
Now, I don't know much about cars but I'm not a mechanic's daughter for nothing. I am also the "wife" of a worst-scenario get silently infuriated guy. So I kept my mouth shut for twenty minutes. Then I called my Dad. Then I called a tow truck. And with two safety nets in place, ample time having passed, I suggested to Mark that this being a drive-in theatre, dead car batteries and/or over heated cars are probably an extremely common occurrence and they probably have a battery and jumper cables. Mark didn't believe me: not about it just being the battery, not about the boost being easy.
It was. And it was.
Obviously, we didn't stay for the second movie.
But the funny thing is, as we were driving home chatting quietly as Baby C had fallen back asleep in her car seat, Mark and I agreed that it had still been a good night. It may not have been very "date-like" between the angry baby and car trouble but at least someone got to second base...it just happened to be the baby. There's breast milk all over the windshield to prove it.
When was the last time you went to the drive-in? And who were you with?