My mom, sister and I are avid patrons of the theatre. I’ve seen Phantom of the Opera, Lion King, Mama Mia, Hairspray, Les Miserables, Evita, Cats, Wicked, and Dirty Dancing. It’s probably our favourite thing to do together and we go whenever we get the chance.
We went to see Jersey Boys yesterday. A Sunday matinee. We’ve had the tickets since February, so we’ve been looking forward to it for a long time. It won the 2006 Tony award for best musical and we were excited to see what the hype was about.
For the past week or so I have been trying to get Avery to accept a bottle, anticipating that I would be away for two or three of her meals. It had gone over with mixed reviews. Some days she would take it willingly, others would take some convincing, and others still she flat out rejected. I had tried every combination of two different kinds of bottles, breastmilk and formula.
Saturday night was promising. The combination of Avent bottle + formula seemed to go over well, after some convincing. But she drank 3 oz, which is the most she’s drank from a bottle before. I was confident that I had done the prep work necessary and that my afternoon away would be guilt-free.
Not so much. Come Sunday, she wanted nothing to do with bottles or their contents. But I had to go. Not only because the tickets were pre-purchased and expensive, but because I needed an afternoon away. I hadn’t been baby-free for more than 2 hours in over 3 months. So I went, knowing full well that the afternoon was not going to be fun for Anonymous Husband or his mom, who was coming over to help.
The show was fabulous. It had everything I love about the theatre – great music, an interesting story, humour. The actors had some of the best voices I have ever heard on stage, and I’ve heard some amazing voices. The play was chalk full of swearing, which was…awesome. I’m not a big cusser myself, but I will admit, when the story is about a bunch of working class guys from Jersey with connections with the Mob, swearing is a necessity.
After the show, the three of us came to a consensus that Jersey Boys is our second favourite play, after Wicked. It was really, very good. Oh, and men would love it probably as much as women, which is a rarity with these shows.
Anyway, on the way home I called to see how things went. Not. Good. Avery hadn’t eaten a thing all afternoon. I knew she’d be fairly stubborn, but nothing? Not an ounce? Nothing. And, of course, she had also screamed that entire time because she was starving and where’s her mommy and why do they keep shoving that stupid bottle in her mouth.
When I got home, she hadn’t eaten in 6 hours. That’s three missed meals. She was asleep but woke up when she heard my voice. She was lethargic and hungry and exhausted. And AH and his mom were worn down. And poor little Eirinn was desperate for attention.
And I was laden with guilt.
But you know what? Avery ate three times in three hours and was fine. Eirinn got some attention after I “fixed” Avery and she was fine. And the adults had a nice big homecooked meal and they were fine. Everyone recovered and was fine.
I got a much-needed afternoon break, saw one of the best shows I’ve ever seen, and I am fine. I won’t be doing it again for a long, long time, but I’m fine.
Oh, and we’re now working on the whole bottle thing because if I do get the chance to go out again, I don’t want any of that to happen again.
Less than 12 hours after I wrote this post, I purchased tickets for AH and I to see Jersey Boys for my birthday in November. Then, this morning, my mom bought tickets for the three of us to see The Sound of Music in December. Apparently “a long, long time” means a month and a half.