I had a rough day with Paul Saturday. It was fine the first half but then that afternoon we were at Target, after a half-dozen mini-tantrums, when he had one more tantrum than I was willing to try to diffuse. I did that thing--I picked him up, not gently, not really by his arms, sort of by and arm and a leg, and we marched out. He screamed and people looked at me but I didn't care. Steve followed behind with the baby but I didn't look behind me to check.

Anyway, I was super over-it. Just all of it. We went home and Steve said "You should go out for a drink and read a book," which is a thing he's said a few times but I have never taken him up on it because a.) come on--by the time I figure out where to go and what to wear and where to park, it's too late, the moment's over and b.) I would feel guilty about him doing all that work. But I figured maybe this was one of those times where I should really do it. So I left and went to Pete Miller's, an old-timey-ish steak house where I knew I'd feel like an adult. I saw a couple send another couple a round of drinks which is one of my favorite things.

I got home and Paul was good but then I took the baby and he started hollering but wouldn't eat and wouldn't relax in the swing for more than a few minutes. We went outside while I tried to feed him a bit more with the bottle and I heard New Orleans brass band music from my back yard. I love New Orleans--who doesn't? It reminds me of one of my best oldest friends and good times and being yourself and indulging in great food and drink.

Anyway I don't have a cute magical way of describing why I did it but I decided to go check out where the music was coming from. The band, or anybody who hired a NOLA brass brand in my neighborhood, needed in-person thanks. So I went into the alley and followed the sound of people cheering until I spied a twinkly-lighted party through some back yard slats. I still had James with me. He is 8 weeks old as I write.

I knocked on the back door and a partygoer let me in. I saw a neighbor I met recently. He told me whose party it was and I found the host and then his wife took James and asked if it was weird that a total stranger wanted to cuddle the baby. They invited me to have a drink. I said I had to go only because my husband had no idea where me or my baby were.

I felt giddy and happy on the way back. I had a tiny adventure and I had cool neighbors. It was a nice summer night. I'm lucky. It's going to be hard but we'll make it. Tom Petty's "Into the Great Wide Open" was playing on the radio when I got back to the kitchen and I put James in the vibrating chair and now Steve and I are going to eat big fat juicy steaks from the grill. The band has just started playing again.