Me: Yay, it’s August, my birthday month! What are we doing for the first week?
My Guy: What?? What’re you smokin’? You don’t get a month.
Me (pouty): Fine. What are we doing the week of my birthday then?
My Guy: I have to work late pretty much every night this week.
Me: Every night? But it’s my birthday week!
My Guy: You don’t get a week. You get a weekEND. That’s it.
Me: What?!! I gave birth to your daughter and I only get a weekend??!
Yes, this is what he has to live with. And that argument from me hasn't worked since Little Miss was a month old but hey, I had to give it a shot.
* * *
He beds, she beds
As much as I love spending time with my daughter, I still dread putting her to bed on the nights My Guy is late from work (which averages about once a week). He’s usually on bedtime duty and here’s why:
When mommy does it:
Me: Goodnight Little Miss, I love you.
Little Miss: Nooo… Mama, no…… Waaaaaa
Me: Sorry baby, you have to sleep. I love you, sleep well (and I walk out of her room)
Little Miss: Nooo…!!!! Mamamamamamama…. WAIL SHRIEK STOMP WAIL SHRIEK… Noo….. Mamamamama (for about 15-30 minutes before falling asleep from exhaustion)
When daddy does it:
My Guy: Good night Little Miss
Little Miss: Goodnight daddy. Wuv you. Bye… MWAH!! (big fat kiss)
And he shuts the door behind him and all’s quiet.
Me: It’s not fair! Waaaaaa.....!!!
* * *
We are starving after a visit to the zoo but instead of sitting in horrendous traffic back to the city, we google a nearby sushi place and hit a homerun with some of the best sushi we’ve ever had there. The attentive and patient staff makes it an even more incredible experience. We decide that every trip to the zoo should end with sushi at this place - hence, Zooshi. My daughter, who does not like ice cream, who even refused my rootbeer float at the zoo, devours the edamame, udon noodles and salmon roe sashimi – her favorites. Yes, you read that right. No ice cream for this girl. Just salmon roe, thank you (further proof that she is indeed mine).
* * *
Zooshi ends late - we are already over an hour late for my daughter’s bedtime when we miss an exit on to the highway, and I react as I normally do - “Fuck!” – except this time, I hear an echo in the form of a tiny voice from the backseat, “fuck!”
My hands fly to my mouth and I gasp. My Guy almost veers off the road – we both try hard not to react. I knew this day would come but I didn’t think it would be this soon – she’s only 20 months old! And I didn’t think it would be me that she would mimic as I’ve made an effort to improve myself and have self-righteously chided My Guy for swearing in her presence. This is of course not lost on him as he rubs it in my face with, “Hah! It’s YOUR fault!”
Yes. Yes, it is. Fuck.
* * *
At a restaurant, Little Miss decides to pull her legs up to the top of her high chair and begins to squat on the chair. She points to her diaper and says, “Pee pee”. Ohhh...kaaaaay. Thanks for the announcement kid. About ten seconds later, she declares, “All done!” and sits back down.
* * *
We’re confusing our dog
We come back from the restaurant and Little Miss still seems indefatigable. With bedtime in less than an hour, we know we have to do something to exhaust that boundless energy of hers. Except we are running on empty from the day’s whirlwind of activities.
And so, like any good parent, we take her outside and fling toys along the sidewalk so she could retrieve them. Over and over. Yes, we are playing fetch with our daughter. As she runs back and forth for her toys, we sit on the steps and watch her amuse all three of us – me, My Guy and the dog.
What? Don’t judge me. She had fun too. (And it worked!)
This is a Wordful Wednesday post.