Sunday, Nov. 24, 2019 - 2:49 p.m.

Update 2.
Today was the day to go out for lunch after swim class. It was U’s pick: Sweet Tomatoes, his favorite.

We have to have one particular table there or he refuses to sit and eat and I have to spend most of the time trying to get him not to make a disturbance by loudly demanding that none of us sit down until the table he wants has been vacated, or that everyone move tables one or two times in the course of trying to satisfy him. Usually I have to haul him out of the building once or twice.

Anyway, J checked on the table first this time, and they reserved it for us while we made our way down the salad bar. U has a particular thing he does with his plate at the salad bar and it involves, among other things, peas and corn. Today we found that they had eliminated peas and corn to make room for black beans and edamame. Please note that a) we have peas and corn at home he can have any time, b) he doesn’t actually eat the corn, and c) he does like black beans.

Anyway, he had an unexpected-change-related crisis and immediately ran out of the building and refused to eat there until we compelled them to return corn and peas to the salad bar. Declared that it’s his pick and we have to eat at home. By now it’s after 2pm because we had waited until the worst of the lunch rush was over. Neither me nor J had eaten anything yet. Time to go home.

And as J said, it wasn’t even in the top 3 worst trips to Sweet Tomatoes. U ranted at the car a bit before we could leave. Q was mad because it was an example of her need for routine conflicting with U’s, but she held it together really well considering. Who wins when both need accommodations?

Anyway, this is all by way of example of what sorts of things go wrong when we go out to eat. Now imagine forcing us to try it 4 or more times a week. Now imagine 2-3 grandparents along, with mobility issues and blood sugar issues, who are simultaneously trying to guilt and cajole the children into compliance. God it’s so much fucking talking. So many more demands and a whole nother resulting layer of difficulty and chatter. To me it’s like thick weeds to make my way through. And then we have to all load back into the car and try to figure out where to go next because there still isn’t anything everyone can eat at home.

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