On Thanksgiving, my father-in-law came to town and took our family out for dinner. We went to a fancy place – one of the Wolfgang Puck restaurants in Las Vegas. It is a pretty nice place – and a place to which I wouldn’t have normally brought an infant. But it was Thanksgiving, after all.
So, we made reservations for the earliest possible seating of the evening, hoping that our five-month-old would not get too tired and fussy while we were out. The first course was a breeze. Then the soup came, and our little man started to fuss a bit. About halfway into the main course, my husband took him for a little walk outside of the restaurant. Then he came back and I walked him for a while. While we tensely waited for dessert, our baby began his pre-bedtime meltdown . . . in a dimly lit, otherwise quiet restaurant. I swiftly removed him from the main dining room in search of a quiet place to nurse. It was early, and the bar was empty. It was dark in there and calm. I asked the barkeep if he would mind if I nursed in the corner booth. He said he didn’t mind at all, but that he could show me a place that was much more private. Then he walked us to a beautiful private dining area that was covered with lovely artwork and enclosed by curtains. “It’s all yours” he said, “can I get anything else for you?” I was absolutely impressed. I had all that I needed and more. My boy nursed like he hadn’t eaten in days and I could relax, and feed him, enjoying such lovely surroundings and avoiding any sideways glances from the other patrons.
It was a really memorable evening, and we all enjoyed a lovely meal – even our son. I didn’t expect such warm accommodations for a nursing mother in a place that would probably rather not have to deal with babies. I’m going to write a letter to the restaurant manager and cc: Wolfgang Puck as well.
By Amanda W.