our little conversationalist

Rachel really is getting to the point where we can have conversations, when she's not whiny or saying "NO!" and lying down on the ground, pouting, with her head on her sweater.

Tonight, after noticing that the sun was no longer shining brightly in the kitchen window, she announced, "sun go home!"

Then while we were getting ready for bed she said, "Cammalla! Calvin! Marigold! Molly!" It's easy to see she misses them, especially when she added, "Camalla pick up!" She misses Camilla picking her up and toting her around!

Two nights ago, when Drew picked her up from daycare, Rachel said, "tomorrow, Mommy pick up."

Drew was astonished since he hadn't told her that he was going to be in Seattle on Thursday and Friday.

nie-nie, Mommy

That's what Rachel said matter-of-factly tonight as I was putting her to bed. No bath, she decided.

OK, I figured. That actually makes it easier for me, because the book/bathing/singing routine takes at least 45 minutes every night, so I really don't mind cutting out the bath.

No songs, Mommy, she said.

I lay her down in her crib and she changed her mind about the song. So, I started singing a nice Shabbat tune I love.

No! She protested and added, "baa baa black sheep!"

So, I sang her that, then "You are my sunshine." We usually do three songs, but after "You are my sunshine," she said "nie-nie."

"Do you want to go nie-nie?" I asked.

"Rachel go nie-nie," she insisted.

So, I lay her down, handed her a second "nie-nie binky," and covered her with a blanket.

"Nie-nie," she said cheerfully.

"Um, nie-nie," I said.

"Goodbye," she said, still cheery.

"Goodbye," I answered.

"Goodbye," she said again.

"Goodbye," I said, laughing.

She kept it up for a bit until I shut the door, and then she was out like a light.

If the routine continues to be this pleasant, than perhaps I'll survive Drew's absence after all.

Belated birthday milestone

So, I usually do this around the time of Rachel's monthly birthday but this year got distracted, between job-leaving and job-hunting. So here is the grand finale, since I don't plan to commemmorate her monthly birthdays anymore, just the yearly ones. Rachel is:

--adding a colloquialism a day, it seems. The latest: "Oh my gosh!" Others are, "be right back!" "I work too," etc.

--demonstrating the same strong-willed personality that her mommy and daddy both have. Lots of "no!", pouting (accompanied by lying down on the floor in a dramatically pathetic attempt to get what she wants) and whining. So far, threatening her with a timeout seems to stanch the more annoying behavior -- for the moment.

--becoming more and more like a little companion rather than, let's face it, a blob that needs to be fed, burped and put to sleep. She helped me choose earrings the other day and on weekends I plan to ask her advice on what to wear.

--helping more and more around the house. Her self-appointed after-dinner tasks are sweeping and rearranging the silverware in the dishwasher in a way that makes sense only to her. Hey, as long as it gets clean I don't care!

--afraid of insects. Every time she sees one she whimpers, "pider!" ("spider"), even when the insect is an ant. Guess we'll be spending lots of time at the Children's Museum this winter, trying to get her more comfortable with wildlife!

--longing for a "pony" (ponytail) and doesn't seem to understand that her hair isn't quite long enough for Mommy to put her in pigtails yet!

--able to tell us about her day at dinner. At school she plays with Ryan (her special little friend), Sadie, Sawyer, Declan, Sepponi (we still don't really know his/her identity; maybe he/she is imaginary?), Jahmari...etc.

--becoming interested in bikes. Wonder if she should try a tricycle soon?

--showing a definite skill for rock-climbing! She bounded up a plastic rock-climbing play structure this weekend, leaving Drew speechless. By the time he returns from NYC she will probably be ready for a rock-climbing gym.

--showing interest in the potty, although only occasionally and only in the sense of saying she wants to go potty, looking at it and then walking away.

--also showing interest in brushing her teeth and washing her hands on her own. We've kind of slacked off during the summer since cold season is at an all-time low. But I'll pick it up in the fall and winter because the last thing I need is for her or me to get sick while Drew's gone.

--wearing crocs and I must say she looks ADORABLE. Those sandals will see her through the summer!

--more apt to give kisses and hugs these days without being prompted. Best part of being a mom? Having her run to the kitchen calling "mommmyyy, mommmyyyyy," as soon as Drew brings her home from school.

--eating from a grown-up plate and more and more wants to use a "mommy daddy" fork and drink from a "mommy daddy" glass at dinner rather than her miniature cutlery and plastic cups.

--occasionally reverting to crawling around the house. Drew thinks it's because she suddenly realizes that now that she's older, the expectations increase along with the privileges. I think it's because she knows on some level that Daddy will be gone for a long time and that by reverting back to babyhood she can prevent him from leaving. Sigh.

--calling us by our first names once in a while. "My Drew!" she said the other day when she wanted Daddy. Or she'll refer to me as "My Lisa," or just, "Lise." To which I say sternly, "I am MOMMY to you, Rachel."

--hard to please at mealtimes. She still eats vegetables only from jars, and hasn't progressed much beyond cheese sticks, pasta and Gardenburgers. Our pediatrician says not to worry, she is normal weight (25 pounds, in the 25th percentile) and 2 1/2 feet or so (90th percentile for length/height) and he is so happy that we're not feeding her chicken nuggets that he told us NOT TO WORRY. I, for one, would just like to prepare ONE MEAL every night.

--climbing in and out of her car seat without any help. This weekend I'll buy her the same one Drew has in his car, which means that she will be in a forward-facing seat and the view should be much more interesting, especially since starting in September we'll be commuting an hour to school each way.

--very observant of conditions around her. If I rub my hands across my forehead or eyes, she says sympathetically, "Mommy tired," even if I'm not.

--slowly getting over her fear of dogs. Occasionally in the park she will say, "hi doggie!" and the other day she actually pet one, which was huge. Good thing, since Portland is the dog-friendly capital of the universe!

--developing a taste for graham crackers. They're dessert for her, much better than candy or cookies. Although I'm sure those will become part of her diet soon enough.

--losing her taste for berries, alas. But she likes apricots and apples, which I find the most boring fruits in the universe. Maybe I should have her try some of my blackberry cobbler? Or mixed-berry tart?

--still into the chase game she invented: "mommy run. Daddy run. Daddy run. Mommy run." We end up chasing her around the house, sometimes suddenly appearing from behind a wall and yelling, "Agghhh!" She screams with laughter and would play for hours if we let her.

--at 2 years old, the absolute joy of our lives during a very trying year. We are so blessed!

oh my gosh!

This is Rachel's latest expression, picked up from who knows where? She said it three times last night, apropos of nothing:
"Oh my gosh!"

This expression could describe my elation tonight after she ate half a chicken drumstick that I had grilled. It's her Uncle David's favorite -- chicken slathered with mustard and herbs and grilled. I serve it with salad and roasted potatoes with rosemary from our herb garden. She loved it!

The lesson of the playground

On Sunday, while Drew was hauling three years' worth of household detritus to the dump (inlcuding our microwave that is rusting out from the inside, but it dates back to when we first moved to Oregon) I took Rachel to Grant Park. She toddled over to the play structure and started making music with the chimes that are built into the structure.

I noticed that two older girls were trying to keep Rachel away. One of them almost pushed her back when I walked up and said, "hey, kids, Rachel wants to play, too. Can you please let her?"

One of them looked at me scornfully. "This is for big girls," she said.

Without even thinking, I looked at her and said quietly, "You know, you were little once, too. And I bet that the big girls let YOU play with THEM."

She looked annoyed but didn't talk back. I led Rachel away.

Drew said my answer rocked.

The crossed-arm pout

Yes, we got that today -- Rachel decided to be whiny and irritating (probably because of the heat, poor thing, and the fact that she woke up kind of early, crying, because her "nie-nie binky" was clear across the room. Never mind that she was clutching not one, but TWO others in each hand. Sigh) and not eat the dinner she asked for -- pasta, challah and milk. Drew was really firm with her, saying we can't keep guessing what she wants and prepare different foods. So she got off her chair, stood between us, crossed her arms and pouted.

And yet, earlier today, she was so funny. I was getting ready to go out and couldn't decide what T-shirt to put on, so I pulled out a purple one and asked what she thought.

"Not too bad!" she said, with perfect, eager inflection. I almost burst out laughing.

Later I asked what dress I should wear on my first day of work next week. I pulled out a long one from Pier 1.

"Too big!" she protested.

Then I pulled out another one from Hawaii that I had worn to my interview.

"Too big!" she said again.

I think it has to do with her persective -- she's so little, the dresses must have looked like tents to her.

Great start to the weekend!

Took Rachel to Shabbat on the Plaza last night -- our synagogue's now-annual ritual of holding Shabbat services outside. We sit outside and worship on blankets while the rabbi plays guitar; we sing a little, then picnic afterward. (Or, if you're Rachel, you end up eating during the service and occasionally shout, "More songs!" as Mommy, embarrassed, tries to shush you).

Anyway...at the end of the service, Drew interrupted me as I was talking to friends of ours because, he said, Rachel wanted to show Mommy her "gymnastics." And guess what her "gymnastics" turned out to be?

SHE SWUNG BY HER ARMS FROM THE STAIR RAILING. Yes. No feet on the ground. Just swung back and forth like a little monkey!

I was so impressed. I really think she's ready for the overhead bars at the park!

This morning we went to a picnic sponsored by the Northwestern University Alumni Association. What fun! Rachel devoured oh, two bags of potato chips. Neither of us were really keeping track of her nutritional intake so we definitely don't get any parenting awards. Rachel had fun throwing beanbags through a basket and blowing bubbles (the organizers had thoughtfully brought games for the kids) and tumbling on the grass with Daddy. I looked over at one point and they looked like two little puppies. It really was beyond adorable.

And it made me sad because next weekend is our last as a family for quite a while. Rachel will miss Drew terribly.

Rachel's checklist

Tonight as I was putting a dirty diaper into the Diaper Genie, I heard Rachel talking to herself:

"Wipes. Yes."

"Drops. Yes." ("Drops" are the fluoride drops we give her every night because Portland doesn't fluoridate its water).

"Diapers. Yes."

I was so charmed! Drew later said it sounds like she has inherited his Order and Method gene. He said he thinks she was dreaming up a way to help Mommy keep things running while he's away.

"Mommy has a JOB!"

this is what Rachel yelled this morning, totally unbidden. And yes it's true: this week I accepted a position with Willamette University College of Law. I'll be communicatons director/editor of Willamette Lawyer, the school's semi-annual alumni magazine. I am relieved and excited but not telling everyone yet because I'm still waiting for a signed offer and they have to do a criminal background check on me. Still, Drew now can go to NYC with a lighter heart than he would have gone with if I were still unemployed.

I told Rachel that "mommy has a job," as soon as I told them I'd accept.

Last night on the changing table she said, "mommy job."

"Yes, mommy has a job!" I replied.

"Daddy job," she said.

"Yes, both mommy AND daddy have jobs," I replied.

"Rachel job!" she said.

I laughed. "Sweetie, you're too young to have a job!" I said. But I'm sure that time will come faster than I imagine it will.

Rachel unnerves Daddy

Tonight while he was putting her down to sleep, Drew dressed Rachel in a pink sleepsuit. "Hi, pink!" he joked.

"Hi, red!" she replied.

Drew was wearing a red shirt.

He burst out laughing and then later tonight shook his head and muttered, "she's growing up too fast. She's way too young to be coming up with nicknames for me."

Rachel's eating grownup food!

Well, a little of it, anyway. We gave her some spaghetti tonight. She refused the cut-up portion that Daddy made her, but she was happy to eat off of Mommy's plate. She managed a couple of long strands, which made us both very happy. She had a sauce-smeary face to prove it!

Tonight at the dinner table she imitated me crossing my arms and putting my elbows on the table. Then Drew put his hands on both sides of his face to see if she'd imitate him, which she did. He kept trying different positions with his hand and face and she giggled and giggled. Then she said, "funny!" which made all of us laugh.

She seems like a happy, happy kid.

Drew's sick joke

which I am sharing because this blog is only read by friends and family.

Just now, while I was typing this, Drew brought Rachel downstairs to say goodnight to mommy. She gave me a kiss and hug, and they were about to go upstairs when she wandered around the stairway to the storage area with our wine shelf and boxes and boxes of old newspapers.

"This is where we kept the other children who didn't work out so well," Drew told her in that nice, sweet, Daddy voice of his.

"DREW!" I yelled. "I'm putting that on the blog!"

"This is why I don't do social media," he replied.

timeout madness

We gave Rachel a timeout this morning because she was being especially obnoxious, crying when we told her she had to sit in her chair to eat breakfast instead of walking around with a portion of Drew's scone.

When she wouldn't stop shrieking, I took her to her room and shut the door. She cried and cried and cried and cried, and after about 10 minutes -- way longer than I should have waited -- I went in to retrieve her. She held out her arms with such a concerned look in her eyes that I said, "sweetie, were you afraid we'd leave you?"

She nodded.

"We will NEVER leave you, Rachel," I said, cuddling her close. It took her about 10 minutes to recover and be cheerful again. But later today, when I suggested she might need another timeout, she said, "no timeout!" and instantly started behaving.

We've also started something new at dinner, since we are sick and tired of making Rachel separate food. Tonight I made beef stroganoff while Drew took Rachel to the park, and when they returned everything was ready. I spooned out some noodles and beef for Rachel, which she of course refused to touch. But at least she tried the noodles. She ended up eating two jars of squash and some challah and we called it good for the night.

Rachel's morning routine

For the past two mornings when I've gone into her bedroom, Rachel has smiled sweetly at me and said, "wash hands." So, she drags her little red plastic chair next to the sink, stands up on it, turns on the water and then I help her with the soap. She doesn't like the water too hot -- it seems she has Drew's body temperature.

Then she says, "brush teeth." She takes the toothbrush in her mouth, sucks out the water from the bristles and moves the toothbrush around in an approximation of teeth-brushing.

THEN it is time for breakfast. Only now, she requests a "white bowl" instead of her green plastic turtle bowl, and a grown-up spoon instead of her toddler utensils. Yesterday she wanted cereal with milk!

Clearly I am no longer needed.

I've been a tad occupied...

being a stringer the last two days for the New York Post, which hired me to track down documents and people in the bizarre Al Gore/Portland masseuse case. Now back to our regularly scheduled program.

Rachel has a fan club at daycare. All the little kids gather around her when Drew or I bring her in (late, of course, since she tends to sleep until 9 or so) and they say, "Rachel! Rachel!" and try to give her hugs. She often clings to my legs but then, I'm told, she's fine about five minutes after I leave.

Tonight she said, "amen" after the Shabbat prayers, which I thought was adorable. Ditto for "good Shabbas!" after I said it. More and more it's beginning to feel as if we have a little adult in the house!

Yesterday and today she said, "good day!" when we asked how her time at daycare went.

And she remains entranced by garbage trucks. On Wednesday morning she heard the truck pass by and expressed an interest in seeing it: "garbage truck! garbage truck!" So, I took her into the kitchen just in time for us to see the weekly recycling truck empty the garbage cans. Rachel LOVED watching it. "Bye bye garbage truck!" she said as it passed down the street, and throughout breakfast she kept hoping it would return. At every noisy car sound she'd say, "garbage truck? garbage truck?" Will she ever get into dolls or stuffed animals, or do I have a little boy on my hands?