We've found a way to annoy each other

..and we're not even close to clothes-shopping age yet. Yippee!

Here's Rachel's side of it: I've told her over and over again that I am "mommy" to her, not "Lisa" in any form. So she has found a way around it: When she wants to exasperate me she'll start chanting, "Mommy Lee-sa. Mommy Lee-sa. Mommy Lee-sa."
(Parenthetically, she was upset when we went to Amy's this weekend and Amy kept calling me "Lisa." "No. Mommy!" Rachel protested).

I tried to put a stop to "Mommy Lee-sa," to no avail. So I tried some amateur reverse psychology: I say in reply, "Baby Rachel." Rachel, of course will be the first to tell you that she is not a BABY, she is a TODDLE. She didn't like that at all.

So our car rides sound something like this:
"Mommy Lee-sa."
"Baa-byy Rachel."
"Don't SAY that, Mom!"

Pause.

"Mommy Lee-sa."
"Baabyyy Raa-chel."
"Don't SAY that!"

And on and on.

Another way I annoy her is to imitate something she says that makes no sense (another leftover from St. James): "Oh my gosh, LADYBUG!" The "oh my gosh" part sounds just like Shirley Temple in her early movie days. I used to love watching that treacly stuff on WPIX, Channel 11. Remember that? The old black and white movie channel in NYC?

She hates it when I imitate her and says, "Don't SAY that!" So I've started to add, "Oh my gosh, SPIDER!" "Oh my gosh, FLY!" Oh my gosh, "BEE!" She seems to like that and joins in, so we end up trading insect names.

Anyway, this morning Rachel figured out an even better way to annoy me: By the time we got to daycare this morning, her socks were off, her shoes were off, the crayons were all over the floor where she'd thrown them, the bag of Wheaties was there, too, along with her "baby toy," a string of plastic that she played with as a baby, and a little lap blanket.

Not to mention the crumbs that are gunking up the car seat and snuggling into the crevices of the portion of the back seat that the grownups use...my car is no longer the ghetto vehicle, it's the soccer mom car. Ugh.

She looked down as I was unbuckling her and said, a bit sheepisly: "I make a big mess."

Yes, Rachel, you sure did. But I love you anyway.

Addie Pie

Moms out there, have you heard of this song/chant/rhyme/whatever? Rachel picked it up from St. James and still says it. It goes like this (in Rachel-ese, that is):

Addie Pie
Addie Pie
entee find my Addie
PIE!!!

I begged her to "sing" it on the way to daycare this morning and she did! Three times! I could tell she was indulging me.

From the mouths of toddlers...

Tonight I asked Rachel how old she tought Mommy was.

"Two!" she said.

"No, YOU'RE two!" I said. "Mommy's much older than you. How old do you think I am?"

She thought about it for all of two seconds, then answered, "Nine!"

Oh, if only that were true...

Crayons melt, and another day with Rachel

It was a hundred degrees today (really, 85, but it felt really really warm) and so I discovered that Crayolas melt in the heat. When I picked up Rachel from daycare I noticed orange goop all over her cupholder. YUCKY! I kept saying as I wiped the mess, and she giggled.

Then I slammed the door shut and was about to start the car when a little voice piped up, "Mommy! Buckle me in!" I HAD FORGOTTEN TO SECURE HER IN THE CAR SEAT. What is WRONG with me???

When we got home, the tiredness caught up with me and I was rushing around getting dinner for her, warming up chicken, boiling pasta for Rachel, when I heard that same little voice saying, "Mommy, here you go. Mommy, here you go." Thinking she was whining, I said curtly, "What is it?" She pointed to my placemat where she had carefully set down three pieces of cold chicken I'd cut up for her.

"For you!" she said.

I was so touched that I went over to her with tears in my eyes, gently hugged her and said, "Thank you! Thank you so much, Rachel!"

She smiled shyly and ducked her head.

Then at bedtime she kept wanting to cuddle and not be tickled. Fine, I said, but I get to kiss you instead. I gave her a couple of little kisses, then said, "big kiss!" and gave her a huge one on her cheek.

Well, she got a real kick out of THAT and kept saying "big kiss!" and I kept giving her monster big kisses all over her face while she shrieked with laugher and frustration until we were both laughing our heads off and needed to take a break and then she said, "pyjamees!" and I knew I'd be able to get her changed and put down with no problem at all.

And I did.

Rachel's birthday

We were reading from a book called, "The birthday of the world" which I mentioned in a previous post.

"I want a present," Rachel said suddenly.

"You'll get presents on your birthday," I said. "What would you like?"

"Fireworks!" she said.

"Rachel, you told me you didn't LIKE fireworks!" I replied. "What else would you like?"

"Block party!" she said. Evidently the three we went to this summer made quite an impression!

Fun with counting

Rachel is getting there, as far as numbers go. She'll start at "1," then continue on to "2" and for some reason, completely skip 3, 4 and 5 and rush headlong into "6-7-8-9-10."

I keep trying to remind her that there's a 3-4-5 in there that she keeps skipping, but then she'll do the same thing the next time. "What's wrong with 3-4-5?" I keep asking her, and she never answers. I'm beginning to worry that 3-4-5 are getting a complext and that I need to defend them to make sure they don't get lost or forgotten. Maybe there's a children's book in that idea somewhere?

Rachel also knows the a-b-c song, but she gets stuck on a feedback loop at the end of the alphabet: Instead of "now I know my a-b-cs" she'll jump right back into it, as if she's on an alphabet merry-go-round and can't thing of a way to dismount.

I will make a recording of this so I can play it for her future spouse.

Other cute Rachel-isms:

Everytime she gives a little cough I always ask worriedly, "are you OK?" I ask it in every situation, from a cough to what sounds like choking.

Yesterday she swallowed some water the wrong way while I was driving, and I automatically asked, "are you OK?"

I could hear the faint tone of exasperation from the back seat: "I just coughing, Mommy."

Last night, apropos of nothing, while we were driving (again):

"Daddy come back someday?"

"Yes, Rachel, Daddy will be back for Thanksgiving."

"Mommy no go 'way?"

"Mommies never go away, Rachel. Mommies always come back."

"Daddies always come back?"

"Yes, Rachel, they do."

Oh, what a beautiful morning....

Indian summer (or whatever the politically correct term is these days) seems to be lingering here after a cold, rainy spring and a summer that only started in August. It was a gorgeous day -- still is, in fact, with the high at 80 or so -- and I got up early (after saying up way too late last night re-watching "Legally Blonde" and "Pan's Labyrinth") to do some weeding and, most important, LAWN MOWING. Because, to be honest, the lawn really needed it. Now I know just what a pain in the a-- it was for Drew all this time. I can't wait until he returns to take up that particular chore next summer!

Then I got Rachel up and gathered her laundry to take downstairs. I stripped the sheet from her bed -- another task I hate, since it means I have to somehow get a new sheet ON and keep pulling at the crib bumper to make everything fit -- and as I was in the midst of struggling with it, Rachel looked at me and said, "You need help." Then she tried to pull at the bumper herself!

We ate breakfast and headed to the farmer's market -- I fibbed by saying "it's closed" when her first request was, "go to synagogue!" We got to the market late, which turned out to be perfect -- not only did we find parking, but I got everything I needed and then some (spent way too much money, in fact) and ran into a friend of mine from the newspaper. We had a great talk and decided that she and her two other friends (one with a newborn) and I will get together in two weeks for a potluck supper at my house. Can't wait!

Then Rachel and I did the regular grocery shopping. And get this -- the kid likes oatmeal! Some elderly ladies were dishing out samples at Fred Meyer and they couldn't get over Rachel. One of them looked at her and said, "can I take you home?" She said, "no no no!" and clung to me, but then watched the other lady pour the hot water over the oatmeal and mix it up. And when I offered her some, she stuck her hand in it and ate it! And ate some more! And some more!

The woman said to her friend, "look at her, she's following your every move! She's taking it all in, just like a little computer."

I smiled. I think oatmeal will definitely be on our shopping list when it gets cold and rainy this winter and all I want is something healthy and warm for the drive to Salem. And it'll be nice to feed to Rachel on weekends, along with the bacon I got at the farmer's market. I'm hoping it will last us a long time.

Random Rachel

No matter how rushed I feel in the morning, I always make sure to read Rachel a book before getting her dressed. This morning it was "Bath Time" by Sandra Boynton. It's about a piggy who gets paint all over itself and proceeds to take a bath. It's a cloth book, about four pages long, really more suited to babies at bathtime than toddlers. But Rachel loves it.

One of the bath toys that the piggy takes to the bath is a hippopotamus. "I want a hippopotamus today," Rachel said.

"Really? What would the hippopotamus do?" I asked.

"Lie in grass and drink wah-dee (water)," she answered. "In the, in the backyard."

(I'm making her sound way more comprehensible than she really is).

***

At the end of "Bath Time," the rubber ducky goes "squeak squeak!" So I said, "squeak squeak!"

"Don't say that word, Mom!" Rachel said disapprovingly. "Quack quack!"

***

"Mommy's favorite color is green," I said the other day as I put her in a green onesie. "Do you like green?"

"I like green," Rachel said. "But I like yellow better."

***

Tonight at dinner (yes, we actually have dinnertime conversations now), I asked Rachel if she liked her friends at her new school. She said yes.

"Henry," she said suddenly.

"Is he your friend?" I replied.

"Hug," she said.

"He gave you a hug?"

"Kiss me."

"He kissed you, too? Did you hug and kiss him back?"

"Yes."

She's Jewish, all right

We have been reading from a book called, "The Birthday of the World," a wonderful addition to our library from the PJ Library, a free service that sends us Jewish-themed books every month or so. This particular book talks about G-d asking every creature if they've been "the best they can be" -- the reason being that if you're the best you can be, then the world is the best IT can be -- and Rachel really likes it. I find myself choking up when the child in the book is told how by sharing his toys, laughing and playing, he is lifting the world's spirits. Because Rachel does that for me.

Tonight when we were driving home from daycare, I asked Rachel what she wants to do tomorrow, since I wasn't able to line up a playdate.

"Go to synagogue!" she said. Um, not really -- Tot Shabbat doesn't start up again until next month and there's no way I'd make her sit through a morning service.

Later I lit the candles. She imitated me waving my hands in a gentle circle, then covering my eyes as I said the prayers, lifting our plates and cups to bless the food and wine.

"AMEN!" she said decisively.

At bedtime I said, "Well, it's Shabbat, Rachel, so how about some Shabbat songs?"

"Yeah!" she answered. I sang Lo Yisa Goy, Oseh Shalom, and Shabbat Shalom.

As I tucked her in, I said, "Shabbat Shalom, Rachel!"

"Shabbat Shalom!" she said cheerfully. Then I left the room.

Socks? Shoes? Who needs 'em?

Rachel has developed a disconcerting habit of taking off her socks and shoes when we drive to Salem and when we drive home. The other day she threw her socks at my head; yesterday she tried her shoes and I said firmly, "NO, Rachel, Mommy's driving." That seemed to stop it. This morning she put her socks on her hands and said "mittens!" again, and what could I do but laugh?

She also is extremely effective at making me laugh while tickling my toes. Today when I took my sandals off, she very nicely offered to put them away in the shoe rack. THEN, without warning, she started tickling my toes! I started shrieking STOP! and laughing and jumping up and down to get out of her way, and you can imagine how funny she found this. She started cracking up. I'm sure she could tickle Mommy's feet for HOURS.

Then she insisted on wearing my slippers, which she can actually manage to stay in while walking around the house. She usually gets bored with how slow she travels, so just when my feet get really cold I can usually coax back my slippers from Rachel's feet.

Rachel commands

Tonight, while I was trying to pull open the bag of cheese sticks, Rachel looked at me disapprovingly and said,

"Mommy. Use scissors!"

"Um, OK, Rachel," I answered.

This morning, after getting dressed, she said, "I want makeup!" Yes, this is the beginning of a long battle to keep her as far away from drugstore cosmetics as possible. At least she has the advantage of living in Oregon, where I am sure, if someone took a survey, they'd find that this is the state where women are least likely to wear makeup.

She got very upset when I took away the powder puff I use to put powder on my face.

Mommy's sick

Yeah, I know. Mommies aren't supposed to get sick, but this one has a cold. I've been popping DayQuil and hoping I feel better. Soon. At once. I'm going at half-speed, folks.

This morning I was feeling so tired and sniffly that I said to Rachel as I was driving her in to daycare:

"Mommy needs drugs, Rachel."

"Mommy not need drugs," she said reassuringly. "Mommy tired. Mommy need medicine."

Can I get her to make me some matzo ball soup, pat me on the head, and send me to bed early tonight? Can I?

I miss Daddy!

This morning, for no apparent reason, Rachel shook the bag of cereal I gave her and got very upset, yelling and fussing.

"What's the matter, sweetie?" I asked.

She burst into tears and wailed, "I MISS DADDY!"

"I miss Daddy, too," I said evenly. "But he'll be back at Thanksgiving, and then he'll play with you, and take you to the Children's Museum, and you can do Daddy books, and he'll cuddle you in the big chair..."

That calmed her down.

Rachel and me and Steve and Patt and John and Jo-Ann

Steve and Patt are friends of ours who have sort of adopted Rachel, since they're in their mid-50s and have no kids of their own. Patt was eager to buy Rachel a birthday gift, so she took us to the store a friend of hers owns in Lake Oswego and invited me to pick out an outfit.

Rachel, in true she's-Drew's-daughter fashion, showed absolutely no interest in anything except playing with the furniture in a dollhouse in the corner of the store. I finally persuaded her to try a Winnie-the-Pooh winter hat, and Steve got some great shots of her which I will put on this blog as soon as I have more time. That's when I spied the jeans, tried them on, fell in love and quieted the little voice in my head that said I really should have used Daniella's birthday gift to pay a bill instead of splurging on clothing.

WHATEVER.

We met our friends John and Jo-Ann for dinner at a Thai restaurant. John and Jo-Ann have one grown daughter and a son who is two years away from college, so they were charmed to be at a table with a little one again. It helped that Rachel's behavior was exemplary. As John noted, she sat next to me eating rice, graham crackers and pieces of apple with no fuss or constant tugging at me to try to get my attention. I was able to (somewhat) focus on the conversation, and John and Jo-Ann both remarked on how intelligent Rachel looked, how well she behaved and how grown-up she appeared. "Of course, that's because she has Lisa for a mom," John said, and I almost hugged him. It's the best thing that anyone has said to me lately.

When we got home, Rachel played with her toys a bit. She took a toy car and wheeled it away while I sat on the leather loveseat. "I go away," she said, and I told her that I'd be waiting right here on the couch. Suddenly, tears came to my eyes.

"Really, Rachel?" I said. "Are you going to come back?"

"I come back," she said confidently.

A few minutes later, apropos of nothing, she said, "Mommies always come back."

Yom Kippur, part 2

So, the fast sucked. Really. I didn't know how good I had it when Drew was here. I'd spend the morning at services, come home and nap for a few hours, then Drew would cook me dinner. Fasting was a breeze! I lost at least 5 pounds! I could do it every week!

Um, then he left for Columbia. And I decided that, out of fairness to Rachel, it would be stupid to be cranky and yell at my kid when I feel like I yell at her every day for...being a kid.

You know where this is going, right? In my daily urge to prove that I am, in fact, SuperJewishMom, I fasted. In a brilliant, only-Lisa-could-do-this move, I invited a non-Jewish friend over when I should have taken a nap as soon as I put Rachel down for HER nap. My friend Julie brought a friend of hers whom I have only met once. Julie asked if she could finish her pizza in my presence and, serene and Buddha-like, I said, sure!

So instead of sleeping off the fast, I got to listen to Julie's friend insist that she was a mystic and needs to move her body every day and can't find a job because she has useful skills, all right, but can't get anyone to pay for them. Then she left and all I wanted to do was SLEEP but instead Julie gave me some excellent advice. Namely that, while Drew is gone, I shouldn't live a life of privation because that will only make me angry and resentful and I'd be a wreck by the time he comes back for good.

Which is why I ended up buying a fabulous pair of jeans yesterday that were way too expensive but make me look 19 again. But I digress.

I persuaded Julie to stay for dinner, during which Rachel was charming and adorable and Julie, who is a doula and visited us when Rachel was a wee babe, pronounced her "very advanced." No wonder: at 8:07, Rachel announced, "Mommy books, go to bed." That was my cue to leave Julie in the kitchen while I put Rachel to bed.

After Julie left, Drew called. He spent the evening playing poker with a business school classmate who happens to live in a penthouse on Park Avenue. One of the participants, another B-school classmate, had worked at a casino in Vegas dealing poker and gave them all insider tips. The game broke up around 1:30 a.m. and Drew took a cab home.

No, I am not jealous. Much.

Rachel talk

Today, as I was putting the grocery list together:

"Someday I'm gonna pet a doggy."

And later, when she reached inside a silver box with her name inscribed on it that was given to us by my friend Charon, she pulled out a lock of her hair, held it between her fingers and pronounced:

"That's really weird."

Yom Kippur

Is there anything better than singing Shabbat songs on a dreary rainy Friday afternoon on the way to synagogue, with a 2-year-old in the back seat yelling excitedly, "synagogue! Synagogue! I want to go to syanagogue!...")

I think not.

Took Rachel to services last night. Fortunately, Beth Israel had child care so I could enjoy (if that's a good word to describe the most depressing holiday on the Jewish calendar) the adults-only part of the evening. Rachel screamed and cried on the way in to the child care, and I gave the woman in charge a tight little smile before heading to services.

The service lasted about two hours, and I realized how much I've been missing that lovely, peaceful feeling I get after I attend Friday night services. When Drew returns I am determined to go to synagogue twice a month, bank failures be damned. He'll just have to deal with working and taking care of Rachel, like I do every day.

When I went to pick up Rachel, one of the young ladies watching her said Rachel calmed down about five minutes after I left. She was drawing a picture and had gotten Magic Marker (washable, fortunately) all over her hands. She barely looked up when I came into the room and handed the picture to me. Then she proceeded to take another Magic Marker and demand that I draw a picture of the sun.

The young lady said that Rachel knows more body parts than most 4-year-olds(!!) and that she was high energy and VERY verbal. The woman who was checking all the kids in also chimed in that Rachel was absolutely adorable.

I beamed all the way home.

Rachel chatter

Today as I was finishing up eating dinner, Rachel asked, "Mommy sick?"

"No," I replied. "Rachel sick?"

"No Rachel sick," she said. "Rachel tired, little bit."

***

As I was washing up the dishes, she hung out by the stove, turning the oven light on and off. All of a sudden she said, apropos of absolutely nothing:

"Mommy take a nap. Rachel cook dinner."

I was so touched that I got down to her level, put my hands on her cheeks and lifted her up in my arms.

commuting with Rachel

I remember the days when I would read stories in Parenting magazines about parents who had nightmare commutes and all the tricks they tried, keeping their kids zoned out and quiet in the backseat. HA-HA! I thought smugly. I don't have a nasty commute. I don't have to worry about Rachel screaming or fussing or whining in the backseat. I live in the anti-car capital of the universe.

Well, how things have CHANGED. Now I have a new job and a new career, one that requires an hour's drive each way with a child who's just beginning to wake up to her power to supremely irritate Mommy. The other day it felt as if she had woken up with the knowledge of how to whine, whine, whine, whine, whine...

Now I commute with my iPod next to me, just in case the fussing becomes unbearable. Then I can turn up the music really loud and shut out the sound of Rachel's voice.

This morning she was whining on the way down -- maybe her blanket had fallen off her legs, or she couldn't reach her books, or she was just bored -- and I snapped, "Rachel, you can be a real pain in the ass sometimes."

That shut her up for a while.

A while later, she announced she had pulled off her shoes. "Oh, Rachel," I said, exasperated. "Where are your socks?"

She paused, and I looked in the rearview mirror. She'd put her socks on her hands.

"Mittens!" she said gleefully.

What could I do but laugh??

Birthday weekend

So, Aunties Amanda and Jenn came down this weekend to celebrate my birthday. They insisted on baking a cake, which was chocolate espresso with buttercream frosting. Yum! And they made the most amazing fish and rish dish that I am STILL salivating over. I'm so glad they left the last serving instead of taking it with them!

We went to the Oregon Zoo -- first time, amazingly, that I'd ever been there -- and I promptly bought a family membership for $58, good until Drew returns. I need to go only five times before it pays for itself, and I figure it will help pass the time on weekends when it's too cold to do much except walk outside and look at animals. I guess this means I should buy an OMSI membership, too, to keep us even busier and to bolster an interest in science!

Zoos have certainly changed a lot since I was a kid. I've always been a little philosophically opposed to the idea of caging animals, but the Oregon Zoo is fabulous. You could barely see some of the animals, they had so much room to wander and so many hiding places. But we did manage to see a hippopotamus drinking, a giraffe sprawled out on the grass and a lion from far away. The elephants, unfortunately, were nowhere to be found.

Rachel was a little nonplussed by it all, but enjoyed herself anyway. I tried to get her down for a nap when we returned, but she spent the first half-hour SINGING SONGS in her crib before falling asleep until, oh, 7:30. Amanda and Jenn were astonished when she said, at 8:05, "Mommy books. Then go sleep." This, after only eating two sticks of cheese and two cups of strawberries.

This morning she gave them big hugs around their legs and kissed them without being prompted. We were headed to the park when she fell asleep, so I turned around and put her down for a nap, with much protesting. When she wakes up, we'll meet a friend of ours and her son at Peninsula Park, a beautiful, old-fashioned park with rose bushes, a fountain and gazebo in North Portland. We were invited to a block party on the next block over, but I didn't see any street barriers so I'm wondering if it was last night. If so, DARN! If not, we'll head over. Rachel asked me several times if the party would feature something she finds disturbing:

"No fireworks," she said emphatically (the last one we went to featured sparklers, which terrified her).

"No fireworks, Rachel," I said firmly. "Absolutely no fireworks."

"Absolutely no fireworks," she repeated.

I hope that will be true!

L'Shana Tovah!

Happy New Year, everyone!

I took the day off work (luckily my vacation days started accruing the moment I began at Willamette, so I was able to take the holiday off -- yay!) and Rachel and I went to the children's service at Congregation Beth Israel. We both slept in late since last night we were invited to the house of Melissa, an NU alum and the head of the board of the Oregon Ballet Theatre. Her 9-year-old daughter, Natalie, and 11-year-old friend, Caroline, really took a shine to Rachel and when dinner was nearly over, they took her down to the basement and they apparently had a ball -- Rachel had her first tea party and played with Barbies while I got to have some adult conversation. Thank you, Natalie and Caroline!

So, she didn't get to bed until 10 and I didn't get to bed until midnight, so we both woke up late -- me at 9 and Rachel at 10:15! Fortunately we made it to the morning service with plenty of time to spare.

It was a nice service but I spent much of it feeding Rachel snacks and trying to keep her from raising her voice so I didn't get much out of it. Sigh. I told Drew that I'd rather wait until he gets back to have any kind of synagogue life, apart from Tot Shabbat on the first Saturday of the month....

Later, after the grownup service was over, we got some munchies at a reception in the synagogue and met up with Melissa and her kids again, and our friend Steve Bilow. Rachel immediately focused on his colorful tie. We stayed until 1:45 or so, and by the time we got home it was naptime (she had fallen asleep in the car on the way home).

I also took a nap while she was asleep because I was very, very tired. After I took her out of her crib she insisted that I lie down on the floor while she covered me with her blanket: "Mommy go nie-nie!" she said very firmly.

Then, when I was settled in, she opened the door while standing on her tippy-toes, went into the kitchen and announced, "I make Mommy tea."

Then later she said, "I cook dinner."

While I bustled around getting dinner (you didn't think I'd really let her cook did you??), I sneezed and she said, "God bless you, Mommy."

It's times like these where it is almost impossible to be mad at her, even when she delays going to bed and refuses to eat jarred baby food that she hasn't personally witnessed me open and runs around the bedroom instead of letting me take off her clothes.

But she is so adorable!

Bye-bye Daddy

Last night as Drew was putting Rachel to bed, he explained very clearly and carefully that when she woke up this morning, he'd be in New York, but that he'd return soon for another visit.

She looked at him imploringly and said, "Daddy stay!"

"No, sweetie, Daddy has to go to New York to work," Drew replied.

Rachel's answer: "Take a rest, Daddy."

Later, as I sobbed when he told me this, Drew said, "there's a very generous heart in that 2-year-old body." He is absolutely right.

Today I was terrified that she'd be impossible in the morning, but she didn't even ask for Daddy. And the transition to the new daycare in Salem was smooth, although the commute really is not working well right now. She was fussy heading down and absolutely impossible when we arrived home tonight -- more on that in another post -- but once we got to daycare she was fine. Sat down when Teacher Lianna gave her a bowl of milk and Cheerios, clutched her blankie and ate breakfast. Meanwhile, I started crying as I explained our family situation, and Teacher Emily thoughtfully told me that all parents go through this and would I like her to call me later today to check in?

Yes, I said.

I kissed Rachel's head and left, and there wasn't a peep. Teacher Emily's voice mail said Rachel had played outside, done artwork and was having a good day but was really looking forward to Mommy picking her up tonight.

Except for one "I miss Daddy!" exclamation, Rachel seems to be adjusting OK although she is very upset she doesn't have access to Declan anymore. Even if we had stayed at St. James she wouldn't have seen him because he left a few days before we did. When I tried to explain that to her tonight, she kept crying, "I want Declan! I want Declan!"

He's from Scappoose, I hear. I wonder if his family is dealing with the same thing from him?

State Fair!

Anyone who knows me knows that I love, absolutely LOVE, the Minnesota State Fair. I don't care that the Iowa State Fair is the largest -- Minnesota's is the best. At first, when I had to write something about it every year when I worked for the Pioneer Press, I hated it. But then I made a habit of going for one full day without being a reporter and I had a BLAST. Princess Kay of the Milky Way in butter! The ice cream that tasted like it came straight from the cow! The junky fried food that I could eat with abandon and not get sick because I was 15 years younger and 20 pounds lighter!

Plus, I didn't have a kid.

So, we took Rachel to visit the Oregon State Fair on Monday because I was desperate to get out of the city (for the first summer in three years, it felt like) and we hit the most awful traffic heading in. Once we got there, we couldn't figure out anything for Rachel to do. She didn't want a pony ride, the big livestock scared her and she had no interest in the bunnies or chickens (why why why??).

But then Drew took her to the reptile tent. And our little girl apparently had a blast (I was napping outside in the sun). She petted the python -- over and over. She petted a dragon lizard. She just couldn't get enough!

Right. Nothing fuzzy or furry for my little girl. I definitely think we're going to skip the fuzzy animals and princess stage and go straight to dinosaurs and baseball.

Rachel does and says the most grownup things...

Yesterday, when Rachel was roughhousing with Drew, he accidently bruised her.

"No, Daddy!" she said. "That hurts my body."

Then today, at the park, he suggested she give some her Rice Krispies to a little girl nearby. So, Rachel toddled over, reached into her Ziploc bag and handed over the cereal.

He praised her profusely. Turns out the little girl may have been hearing- impaired. She said "thank-you" in sign language.

Daddy's home!

It was a joyful reunion Saturday morning when Drew woke Rachel up. "Daddy Daddy Daddy!' she said.

We had a pretty leisurely breakfast, then all went to the Portland Farmer's Market -- a treat for me, since I had been since Drew left. Too expensive, too crowded, too much of a hassle with only one parent.

By the time we got done it was time for Rachel's nap.

Then she and Drew played in the park while I cut the roses and trimmed the lavender bush. Then I got some facial cream from my hair salon that would be impossible to buy during the week because of their hours. And THEN I got a manicure and pedicure.

When I came home, our friend Angela came to baby-sit while Drew and I went out to dinner. Oh, what a fit Rachel pitched! When we returned at 10:30, Angela had just gotten Rachel to sleep! It seems as if she was so hysterical when Angela left that she just wouldn't be soothed.

Then this morning, we met friends of ours for brunch. They used to live here, are living in Vancouver BC and we hope they move back. The one thing I remember from the hour we were with them is that I got to have a lengthy conversation and actually focus on talking and listening. That's because Drew minded Rachel, who immediately found the bookshelf at the coffee shop, brought books back to the table and had Drew read them to her. Drew also took care of feeding her. This is the first time in five weeks that I have no idea what she ate all day because DREW TOOK CARE OF IT. YIPPEE!

Then Drew and Rachel went to the park while I bought some new headphones for my iPod and a watchband. Now Rachel is asleep, I'm about to to some weeding and hopefully will be able to get some bills paid. Drew is doing the grocery shopping and getting himself some new boots.

This sounds like the most boring weekend in the world -- in fact, I told Drew I really, really want to get out of the city tomorrow -- but I got to take care of some things that would be difficult to do if I was soloing with Rachel.

But I've also noticed something else -- Drew being here is a disruption to our routine, meaning I have time to think, which is not always the best thing in the world. When he put her down for a nap today she screamed and yelled bloody murder, and she has said several times when he ran into the store for errands, "Daddy no go way! Daddy no go way!" Drew noted that when he leaves for good on Tuesday, I will have to deal with the consequences of her waking up, finding that Daddy is in New York again, and being hysterical.

Yes, I know it will pass. Yes, I know that we made a mature, conscious decision that this is good for his career, will hopefully lead to more money and more advancement and that we will never never never never do this again.

But that doesn't make it any easier to get through.

Spending the day with Constance

Our friend Constance saved my bacon today by taking care of Rachel. St. James was closed and the Y program in Salem doesn't start up again until Tuesday, so I asked Constance if she'd take care of Rachel for the day. Since I'm accumulating vacation time monthly, I have just enough time to take Rosh Hashana off assuming Constance would be able to watch Rachel. Thanks so much, Constance!

Apparently they had quite the day. Constance took her to the Children's Museum, then the zoo (we haven't been yet and Rachel apparently LOVED IT), and they had some stroller time...Constance said Rachel was an absolute gem the whole day. A few times she said, "Mommy work. Daddy work," so at least she knew she wasn't being abandoned!

"She's whip-smart," Constance said. She was very impressed that Rachel knew all the names of the animals and the sounds they made. And after Constance left, Rachel told me that she saw a monkey and it ate lettuce, tomatoes and cucumbers!

(or maybe she was mixing up Mommy's salad with the monkey's food. Who knows?)

The folks at St. James commented several times on how smart Rachel is. Yesterday, one of them told me flatly, "Rachel is really smart, and I'm not just saying that. She's gifted."

WOW!

The best part of today was seeing Rachel emerge from the KMart on Tualatin-Sherwood Road (our drop-off and meeting-up place) and run toward me. "Mommy mommy mommy!" she yelled, before I swooped her up into my arms.

"Isn't that the best thing in the whole word?" Constance asked.

Yes, I answered.

Shabbat shalom!

Tonight as I was lighting the Shabbat candles and started to wave my hands over them, Rachel followed suit.

Then I covered my eyes. So did she.

I said the blessing over the candles. Then I lifted the plate of food and blessed the bread. She tried to lift her plate, too.

Then I lifted my glass of iced tea and said the blessing over the wine.

Rachel lifted her cup of iced tea, too.

When I said "amen," she said "amen," in her little voice too.

I was moved to say, "Rachel, I am SO glad I'm spending Shabbat with you!" And I am.

A conversation with my daughter

Last night after her last day at St. James (sniff!) she announced, while playing on the "rocks" (really two slabs of concrete that are somehow supposed to resemble art):

"I like books."

"Really, Rachel? What else do you like?"

"Um, toys."

"Anything else?"

"Declan."

Rachel's first dream

..actually, it's the first she has been able to communicate to me. This morning when I was getting her up (always a chore on weekdays because she, like her mommy, LOVES to sleep late), I asked her how her night went.

"I saw Daddy last night," she said.

"Really?" I answered. "What was he doing?"

"Playing," she said cheerfully.

Later as we were driving home from daycare I asked her more about her dream.

"What was Daddy playing?" I asked.

"Daddy play with toys," she answered.

Then she added, "Daddy take a nap."