Romance and a dinner for six

Pioneer Press
September 28, 2000
By Lauren Rawitz

Lately, a lot of people have been asking me if my life has changed now that I have four children. I usually respond by telling them that life is not that much different with four children as compared to life with three children, or two children. Each day is an adventure beyond my imagination.

All four of my children have their own agendas, problems and triumphs. And each child, in their own way, gives me the gift of laughter, happiness and love.

Speaking of love, my husband Brett, and I recently celebrated our 11-year anniversary. It seems so strange how fast 11 years have flown by. We always talk about our first blind date when I had just appeared on “Mr. Belvedere” as Audrey Munsen – the ugliest girl on campus,” and Brett came to pick me up just as someone was complimenting me on how well I fit the part.

After getting in the car, Brett proceeded to get lost a take me on a wild tour down the Pacific Coast Highway in Malibu. After arriving at the Chart House Restaurant, and waiting for a half-hour, we realized that the hostess had forgotten about us. Together we laughed, and that’s what I believe has kept us together all these years.

In the worst of times, we try to keep our sense of humor alive. And that seems to pull us through even the most difficult moments. In sticking with this theory, Brett and I celebrated our 11-year anniversary with a sense of humor. We decided to go out for dinner at the Wildfire Restaurant with all four children. (I can hear all of you laughing already.) Feeling ambitious, we loaded up the car with a diaper bag, change of clothes, crayons and high hopes.

Even so, we still had to return back to the house twice to retrieve a forgotten camera and our Lettuce-Entertain-You card. Arriving at the restaurant at 4:15 p.m., (the only time we could get a reservation for all six of us) we all piled out and entered the waiting area. We were seated pretty quickly by a host who offered to help us carry some of our luggage. He guided us to a table towards the back, and suddenly it dawned on me, that now that there were six of us, our comfy booth days were over.

Standing around the table, the kids got into a major “discussion” about who would sit where, with whom and next to whom. A small argument ensued over who would get to sit facing the fire and who would bet sunburn if their back faced the fire. Finally we all sat down, just as Jonah reached for his water glass and knocked it over.

After glancing at the children’s menu, our second dilemma came into view. Noah was having a decision-making crisis over whether to order the chicken fingers or the pizza. If he ordered pizza, he wouldn’t have fries; if he ordered chicken fingers, maybe “mildly spicy” would turn out to be really spicy. Of course, he loved pizza, but then he couldn’t have ketchup. Finally, the waitress helped him out by telling him that “the pizza here is great.”

Of course, Naomi complicated matters by ordering the chicken fingers. Jonah, the only one with a clear head, ordered a “cheesy burger with lots of ketchup.” Feeling optimistic, Brett and I decided that we’d have time to enjoy the chopped salad, macadamia nut halibut and Parmesan steak. After all, it was our anniversary.

When the chopped salad arrived, (sans blue cheese), I insisted that all the kids try it.

“Come on, you guys, you’ve got to learn to try new things. This is mommy’s favorite salad. You’ll love it, I told them.

All three kids grimaced and stared at the colorful, confetti contents of their plates. One by one they began dissecting their salads, removing the bacon, (it’s too salty), the chicken (it’s too mushy) and the avocado (it’s too gross). Pretty soon, all they had left on their plates were the tortilla chips.

“These crunchies are great, mom.” said Naomi. “Yeah,” agreed Noah, “I would eat this kind of salad at home if you made it.” “Great” I said, "I’ll be sure to make a note of that.”

As I dug into my second helping of salad, Jonah announced, “I have to go to the bathroom!” Brett offered to take him. Does anyone else have to go? I asked. “Not me! Not me!” As soon as Brett disappeared out of sight, Noah decided he had to go too. “Maybe I should try, too,” said Naomi.

When Brett returned to the table, off he trotted again with Noah and Naomi. When he returned, Jonah decided he had to go again. When he came back, Noah had to go again, and Naomi had to go because she forgot to wash her hands.

Let me tell you that the Wildfire has some very nice bathrooms. You really ought to check them out next time you’re there.

Just as everyone returned to the table, our entrees arrived. The fish looked scrumptious, and the steak was sizzling and juicy. As I lifted up my fork, Talia scrunched up her face and pooped in her diaper. “I’ll be back,” I said. When I came back and sat down, Talia let out a wail and pooped again. “I’ll be back,” I said.

Cold halibut, it turns out, can be delicious.

“Would you kids like to try my steak?” asked Brett. “Eeew, Dad,” said Naomi. “It has stuff on it.” “I’ll try a bite,” said Noah. “Next time.” Just as Brett and I were ready to enjoy our romantic feast, Jonah blurted out, “I’m done! Now, what are we gonna do?” After trying to placate him with a build a castle with the sugar game” and “How many fried can you count,” we gave up.

As our waitress passed by, I motioned her over.

“Could we please have five doggy bags?” I asked.

As I shoveled our gourmet dinner into tinfoil containers, I glanced over the table nearby. Two couples were sharing intimate dinner as they grazed on fancy appetizers and shared light conversation. I continued to gaze longingly at their take as a waiter carried out four silver wine carriers, each with four glasses of wine that appeared to be floating magically. He gracefully set down four glasses of wine before each person.

“Excuse me,” I said to our waitress, “What, may I ask, are they having?” “It’s called a wine flight,” she answered. “You get to sample four different wines, two white and two reds.” “How fun,” I sighed.

As I stared at the couples making a toast, I accidentally spilled Jonah’s applesauce all over my lap, which happened to be filled with a sleeping Talia. Suddenly, Talia woke up screaming, and the waitress brought over a fancy berry dessert decorated with a burning candle.

“Happy Anniversary!” she said. The kids broke out into a chorus of “Happy Anniversary Cha-Cha-Cha!” as Brett and I smiled across the table at each other. After all, these were our children, and we were proud. After ordering the Snickers Bar cake, (berries were just too healthy) we all fought over the hot fudge and Snickers crust.

We left the restaurant maneuvering our entourage through a dining room filled with glamorous couples out for a Saturday night. A moment later, standing in the parking lot, covered in chocolate and applesauce, the manager ran out after us and blurted out, “Excuse me, but is this your diaper bag and camera?”

When we arrived home, Brett and I were on a mission to get the kids in bed and spend some quality time together. Noah had a better idea.

“Hey, dad,” he said. “Remember that tent we bought for our Indian Guides campouts?” “What about it?” hesitated Brett. “We’ve never used it,” said Noah. “Can we set it up tonight and sleep outside? Please?”

He had a point. They really hadn’t ever used it. Instead, their Indian Guides troop decided to rent hotel rooms. (We happen to belong to a very rugged Indian Guides troop.) “Come on, mom, it’ll be fun!” said Naomi. Well, who am I to stand in the way of fun? “All right,” I said. “If Daddy can put it together.”

“What, are you kidding?” asked Brett. “It’s a piece of cake. I could assemble it in my sleep.”

So Brett schlepped up the box and got to work in the backyard. “See,” he said, pointing to the box, “It says right here, ‘Tent sets up in less than 90 seconds.”

One hour later, the kids were gathered around Brett, who was holding three different poles with a tarp wrapped around his legs.

“These directions don’t make any sense,” said Brett. “We must be missing a piece.” (I guess Brett’s been hanging around Ben Hurwitz too much.) A half-hour later, the ten finally rose up in our backyard. Noah, Naomi and Jonah climbed into the tent dressed in sweats and equipped with sleeping bags, pillows and flashlights.

“This is awesome,” said Noah. “It’s the coolest,” said Naomi.

I wandered outside, climbed in with them and began telling them silly ghost stories and making up crazy songs. After sharing a snack of Teddy Grahams and grapes, I climbed out and traded places with Brett.

“Good night,” I called to them outside. “Happy Anniversary, Brett.” “Happy Anniversary, Honey,” he called back.

After feeding Talia, I settled into the couch to watch Oprah. Suddenly, Jonah yelled, “I’m scared! I don’t want to sleep outside! I want to sleep with mommy!” “He’s all yours,” called out Brett.

To make along story short, I spent the night inside with Jonah and Talia, who each woke up twice in the middle of the night, while Brett spent the night in the tent with Noah and Naomi. In the morning, Brett woke up with a backache and dot-to-dot mosquito bites, while I woke up to a toddler sleeping across my face and a dirty diaper on my pillow.

I can only imagine our 21st anniversary. Brett and I will probably go out to dinner at a very romantic restaurant. We’ll share a bottle of wine and linger over a scrumptious meal and a tantalizing dessert. They’ll be plenty of time for intimate conversation, and we may even sit next to each other.

Yet, you want to know the truth. I’ll bet you anything that we’ll both be sitting at that fancy dinner wishing a small voice would suddenly blurt out, “I have to go to the bathroom!” Or a little hand would knock over the water, or innocent eyes would look at the parsley garnish in our plates, and say, “Eeew, who would want to eat a little tree?”

Back to Press Release Page