Girl’s Night


Greg went to the Carrier Dome last night to see a childhood friend of his coach the Providence team in lacrosse against Syracuse (they lost to Syracuse), which mean that Miss Zoey and I had a girl’s night when I got home from work.

I tried to tell her on the way home that Daddy wasn’t there, that he had gone to visit one of his friends, but she didn’t understand. Like she does every day, she squealed and pointed when she saw our house (it’s our little game. I usually keep asking her if she sees our house as soon as we turn on our road. She always points with a big smile on her face). And then she yelled out, “Daddy!” Oh boy. I tried explaining to her again that Daddy wasn’t home, but she wasn’t having any of it. She stared at the back of the house while I gathered our twenty million bags; clearly, she was waiting for Daddy to come out of the house and carry her inside like he does every night. And clearly, she was not happy when he didn’t show up because she just looked confused and said, “Da Da?” Once again, I tried to explain.

We started our par-TAY with some dried Fruit Loops as a snack while I made boiled potatoes, fish sticks and mixed veggies for dinner (Zoey loses her mind over fish sticks right now). And after dinner we settled into watching a couple of episodes of M.A.S.H., which we watch pretty much every night because it’s one of Greg’s favorite shows and Zoey gets excited when she hears the theme song.

We cuddled. We tickled. We giggled.

And when it was time for Miss Zoey to go upstairs to bed, she started waving her goodbyes with me following behind her, saying goodbye out loud to the items she was waving to.

“Goodbye refrigerator.”

“Goodbye vacuum cleaner.”

“Goodbye box of Raisin Bran on the counter.”

“Goodbye container of leftover spaghetti Zoey just found in her diaper bag that Mommy forgot to put in the refrigerator when we got home.”

We went upstairs and I put the lacrosse game that Greg was watching at the Dome on TV. I tried to explain to Zoey that Daddy was at that game, but she was more interested in shouting, “Ball!” every time the referee blew his whistle (We’ve been watching a lot of Syracuse basketball at our house lately and turns out, Zoey loves it. Apparently, she thinks every time she hears a whistle, it MUST be basketball). I tried to explain to her it was another game and not basketball, but she didn’t care. It became a game to her–sitting straight up in bed and yelling “Ball!” when she heard the whistle and me telling her to lay back down and how it was a different kind of game. She always giggled and then waited for the next whistle to do it all over again. I ended up having to change the channel on the TV just so she’d go to sleep.

After she went to sleep and I moved her to her crib, I went back downstairs, ate supper and then worked a bit on the next issue of Team Parenthood (due out April 1st). I would probably have written a blog post for this blog, but our laptop is still acting like it’s taking random vacation days (it suddenly started charging at some point last night before Greg got home from the game–even though it had been plugged in and doing nothing all day). I ended up curling up on the couch and dozing until Greg got home.

A pretty quiet night. Nothing crazy and the only out of the ordinary thing was that Greg wasn’t there. Maybe to some people it would have been TOO quiet, but I think it was an ideal night spent with my favorite girl.


About cdhoose

I'm a mom to an amazing little girl and have another little one on the way. I live in Upstate New York with my fiance and daughter, 2 big, crazy dogs and a 3-legged cat (who has an attitude). I hate know-it-alls, Lindsay Lohan and socks with holes in them. I always seem to get myself into trouble (which entertains my fiance to no end), but I try hard to be a good parent. Also, I occasionally work on scrapbooking the fifty billion pictures I've taken of my kid. And I like ice cream. The end.

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