Just a quick little rant today.
Hubby and I went to see Man of Steel tonight. As we were walking in, I asked, “How long is this movie?” It’s 2 1/2 freaking hours, y’all. So when I saw families with young children seating themselves in an otherwise sparsely populated theater, I thought, “Hmmm. This movie was a brave choice.” And then, when a couple and their child sat down right in front of us, I thought, “You have got to me kidding me.”
This couple brought a four month old to a 143-minute-long movie. Brilliant.
I immediately leaned over to Hubby and whispered, “Who brings a baby to this kind of movie?” To which he responded, “Who brings a baby to any kind of movie?” Which is one of many reasons why I love him.
Clearly these people do not ascribe to the notion that having a baby changes your whole life. I don’t know. Maybe after this experience, they do.
Because, obviously, their little one was not having the whole sitting-through-an-entire-movie-without-giving-mom-or-dad-a-reason-to-pay-attention-to-me thing. I saw them giving the kid a bottle during the previews and assumed they thought he’d just slip into a milk coma and sleep through the duration of the film. Nice try.
Mom was up and down with him during the first half-hour or so. Then she gave up on her comfy, reclining movie theater seat and stood by the wall near the entrance. Dad, meanwhile, stayed put, eyes fixed on the big screen. Which infuriated me more than anything. The mom was clearly not having a good time, and all the while, I was tortured by the little dude’s gurgling and spitting. He wasn’t even crying. That wasn’t the problem. He was just being his adorable little self, and it was killing me.
And I had done so well earlier in the day. I had braved the farmers’ market this morning for the first time in a year. Babies everywhere.
Even walking into the theater, there was a little girl peeking over her dad’s shoulder at me and Hubby. He didn’t seem to notice, but I sure as heck couldn’t ignore her big, blue eyes, staring right at the man I want more than anything to be the father of our hypothetical future children.
I could blame my over-sensitivity on the hormones. Today was the first day of stims. But I don’t think that’s it. In fact, if anything, beginning another round of hormones in pursuit of IVF and a baby of our own should make all of this easier. Right? Well, according to my husband, anyway.
Ugh. I don’t even know where I’m going with this. Except to say, to those of you lucky enough to be holding your baby in your arms right now, get a sitter. How hard is that?