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I don’t know how much more I can take.

I just came from dinner at Cracker Barrel with my lovely little family. What a God-awful nightmare.

Let’s start with the pre-celebration.

Jack, in a strange attempt to be funny, called his dad an idiot. That, of course, required a taste of soap, which resulted in a complete meltdown. Now, I’m not fond of the taste of soap, either, but this was overboard. (In his defense, I think a lot of the problem was low sugar and he needed to eat.)

We all took a collective deep breath and, despite the drama, headed out to Cracker Barrel – a family-friendly place. The waitress was great – very speedy and attentive. This, however, didn’t do much to ease the pain.

Before we even sat down, Luke threw a fit because Jack and Maria grabbed the only two peg games on the table. The waitress rewarded his unpleasant behavior by pulling one from another table. The beast was tamed for the moment.

Jack and Maria combined their pegs in a made-up game, all of which somehow made their way to the floor. After being forced to pick them up, they gave up on the pegs and chose, instead, to break their crayons into pieces.

Sam spent the evening screeching – LOUDLY – and Dan shoved crackers in his mouth hoping to quiet him.

Luke, as is typical for him at dinner time, announced his need to poop. I’m pretty sure only half of the restaurant heard him. Dan took him to the bathroom. (Next time, I’m volunteering!)

While he was gone, a broken piece of blue crayon landed in my salad, launched by Maria. That put her first on the list for bed time. (We put her to bed first, but she’s still up. But, then, so is everyone else. Dammit.)

Sam continued his screeching and then closed his eyes at me every time he was reprimanded (as if I’d disappear – don’t I wish).

Jack played crash and bang with his broken crayon pieces, while Maria grabbed a peg and stuck it in her straw (ewww).

The food arrived (thank goodness) and I ran from child to child cutting up food while Dan and Luke made their way back to the table, having accomplished their mission.

Things were quiet for the first few bites.

Then Sam screeched some more.

And Lukie went BALLISTIC when his biscuit fell apart. (I wasn’t anywhere near him, but it was my fault and he was mad a me). His anger dance was slightly amusing and he calmed down immediately when his dad helped him, but still.

Jack was silent as he gobbled every morsel on his plate (I knew the meltdown earlier had been hunger related).

Maria started crying because she wasn’t allowed to have a biscuit after only having taken three bites of her blueberry pancakes.

Sam screeched again and then crushed his cup, spilling milk all over his lap.

That was it for me. I took Maria and Sam out to the car while the other three finished up.

Now we’re all back in our cozy f*cking hotel room.  No one is sleeping.  My blood pressure has never been higher.  And, at this moment, there is no end in site. We STILL don’t know where in Chicago we’ll be assigned, and we can’t look for a house until that happens. Until we can look, find, buy and move into a house, I’m afraid nights like tonight will be the norm for a long time to come. Or maybe my kids will starve.

Nah. Just no more dinners out at dry establishments.