I suddenly got into a panic last night after talking to my friend Dan, who was saying that his almost-2-year-old granddaughter watches videos and can really follow them in a sophisticated manner, and that she has a ton of educational toys, including Tom the Train, and I started to think that I really need to get Rachel a play kitchen and an easel and a toy vacuum cleaner and shopping cart, and why am I being such a hard-a-- about the TV, she really needs to be way more technologically savvy than her parents, and I don't want her to be left behind when her other little friends figure out how to program their iPods and design knockout computer games at the age of 4. Whereas Drew and I are so behind the times that we still marvel over cell phones.
But as usual, I digress.
I was sharing some of these concerns with Jennifer, one of the teachers at daycare who has a 16-month-old son. The first thing she said when I picked Rachel up today was that Rachel refused to wear her lion costume when the kids went trick-or-treating throughout the school. Then she said that Rachel was so adorable; Jennifer was carrying her around when suddenly Rachel said, "Whew! It's been a busy day!"
Jennifer added, "She's really smart. No other kid said 'it's been a busy day.' She talks really well and if we had enough staff to be the right ratio to the kids, we'd move her up to the Beginners class. She's mature enough to handle it.
"Right now the most important thing you can do is talk to her and read to her." Which I do, so I will try to stop worrying about the educational toys and the DVD issues. At least for now.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Morning drive time with Rachel
Talk radio cannot be as amusing as listening to my daughter. A sample from today:
"I have animals in my backyard. Brown, orange, yeyo."
"Really, Rachel? What animals?"
"Uh...duckie!"
"What else?"
"A pig!"
"What else?"
"Horsie!"
***
"Daddy no like kitties and doggies. Open the car door, Mommy. What happened with my keys, Mommy?"
***
"I want Daddy pick me up. I want Daddy go for walk in car. Daddy go for walk with my bike?"
"Daddy, you in my mitten? Daddy? Daddy? Daddy?"
"Here you go, Daddy," (handing a pretend Drew the removable soles of what she calls her 'fancy shoes," -- black with Velcro straps with a flower motif) "Take these, Daddy!"
"I have animals in my backyard. Brown, orange, yeyo."
"Really, Rachel? What animals?"
"Uh...duckie!"
"What else?"
"A pig!"
"What else?"
"Horsie!"
***
"Daddy no like kitties and doggies. Open the car door, Mommy. What happened with my keys, Mommy?"
***
"I want Daddy pick me up. I want Daddy go for walk in car. Daddy go for walk with my bike?"
"Daddy, you in my mitten? Daddy? Daddy? Daddy?"
"Here you go, Daddy," (handing a pretend Drew the removable soles of what she calls her 'fancy shoes," -- black with Velcro straps with a flower motif) "Take these, Daddy!"
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Corduroy
We read a book at least twice a day called "Corduroy Lost and Found." It's about a toy bear, Corduroy, who decides he wants to give his owner/mommy Lisa a birthday present, so he leaves their apartment to go to find a present. He thinks the moon is a balloon and in following it, he gets into a mishap that ends up with him helping to sell newspapers at a newspaper stand -- and then being reunited with Lisa, who is very worried about him being gone.
Rachel has really begun interacting with the story. When Corduroy rides the elevator and thinks he's in a rocket ship and wants to give Lisa a rocket ship for her birthday, Rachel says, "I want rocket ship for my birthday."
"You know, honey, by the time you're old enough you may very well be able to ride a rocket ship!" I tell her.
When a dog grabs Corduroy's overalls with his teeth and scoops him up for a walk, I always ask Rachel, "how would you feel if someone did that to you?"
"I no like it," she says decisively.
She knows that when Mr. Gonzalez, the newsstand operator, says, "Adios," it means "goodbye." And "muchas gracias," means "thank you." (Rachel, by the way, is saying "thanks," more and more these days -- from when I give her granola to when I give her crayons. I really like hearing it, since I am determined to raise a polite kid).
Speaking of birthdays, I asked her this morning what she wanted for her birthday and she said, "brown."
"Um, brown what?" I said. "You can't just have brown. Do you want a brown shirt?"
"Yes," she said.
"A brown book?"
"Yes."
She did the same with the color orange tonight. She said she wanted "orange!" for her birthday, and I promised to put one in her lunch bag tomorrow.
Rachel has really begun interacting with the story. When Corduroy rides the elevator and thinks he's in a rocket ship and wants to give Lisa a rocket ship for her birthday, Rachel says, "I want rocket ship for my birthday."
"You know, honey, by the time you're old enough you may very well be able to ride a rocket ship!" I tell her.
When a dog grabs Corduroy's overalls with his teeth and scoops him up for a walk, I always ask Rachel, "how would you feel if someone did that to you?"
"I no like it," she says decisively.
She knows that when Mr. Gonzalez, the newsstand operator, says, "Adios," it means "goodbye." And "muchas gracias," means "thank you." (Rachel, by the way, is saying "thanks," more and more these days -- from when I give her granola to when I give her crayons. I really like hearing it, since I am determined to raise a polite kid).
Speaking of birthdays, I asked her this morning what she wanted for her birthday and she said, "brown."
"Um, brown what?" I said. "You can't just have brown. Do you want a brown shirt?"
"Yes," she said.
"A brown book?"
"Yes."
She did the same with the color orange tonight. She said she wanted "orange!" for her birthday, and I promised to put one in her lunch bag tomorrow.
When Daddy comes home
In a just a few days it will be November (is it me, or did October feel like it had about 2 extra weeks in it?) and I'll be able to say, "Daddy will be home in three weeks/two weeks/a week/next week!" Tonight, while Rachel and I were cuddling in the glider, I practiced.
"Daddy will be home for Thanksgiving," I said. "What do you want him to do when he's here?"
"I want pick me up," she said.
"Then what do you want him to do?"
"Tumble me."
"Then what?"
"Play toys."
"Then what? Cuddle? Kiss?"
By then she'd lost interest.
"Daddy will be home for Thanksgiving," I said. "What do you want him to do when he's here?"
"I want pick me up," she said.
"Then what do you want him to do?"
"Tumble me."
"Then what?"
"Play toys."
"Then what? Cuddle? Kiss?"
By then she'd lost interest.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Arghh....
Difficult day at work today. Dealing with IT folks is always a hassle, especially when they act like it's a big deal to explain things and then tell you, gently but firmly, that you've got a steep learning curve when it comes to learning things like Web design, photo re-sizing, etc. Apparently the fact that I was hired with absolutely no experience in this area and that there was no need or interest in such skills in my former career didn't make a difference.
And Rachel is now getting bored with all the songs I sing; she'll say, "Sing a new song, Mommy," and when I begin, she'll say, "I don't LIKE that song," and then I'll start another song and she'll say, "I don't LIKE that song," and it continues until I get completely exasperated. Yesterday I told her that I wouldn't sing any more songs because she doesn't like any of my choices. Now she will request a few -- "Rise and Shine," and "Solidarity Forever' (Solirary fuhever, she calls it) -- and if she doesn't, I'll either ignore her requests to sing or I'll say, "Mommy needs to rest her voice." I feel terribly guilty doing it, because the day may come when I'll miss the fact that my daughter once wanted me to sing to her. But it's also hard to be creative at the end of a long, tiring, discouraging day and trying to talk to Drew at the same time while losing my train of thought every time Rachel demands something from the back seat. She has started using the phrase "RIGHT NOW" and I've told her repeatedly not to do that -- it's disrespectful -- but I was so frustrated in my attempts to have a conversation with my husband and deal with Rachel that I almost screamed at her. It ended up with me hanging up the phone. I've decided that trying to have conversations with people on the way home is totally useless.
Oh, she did say one cute thing. Her daycare took her to a pumpkin patch on Monday and she was more thrilled that she got to ride a bus than she was with the pumpkins (although she told me she wanted Daddy -- or was it Mommy? -- to lift her up in the pumpkin patch). Anyway, tonight she said, "I wanna ride the bus."
"I wanna ride the bus with Mommy and Daddy and James and Patt and Steve and Amanda and Jenn. Hello, everyone!"
And Rachel is now getting bored with all the songs I sing; she'll say, "Sing a new song, Mommy," and when I begin, she'll say, "I don't LIKE that song," and then I'll start another song and she'll say, "I don't LIKE that song," and it continues until I get completely exasperated. Yesterday I told her that I wouldn't sing any more songs because she doesn't like any of my choices. Now she will request a few -- "Rise and Shine," and "Solidarity Forever' (Solirary fuhever, she calls it) -- and if she doesn't, I'll either ignore her requests to sing or I'll say, "Mommy needs to rest her voice." I feel terribly guilty doing it, because the day may come when I'll miss the fact that my daughter once wanted me to sing to her. But it's also hard to be creative at the end of a long, tiring, discouraging day and trying to talk to Drew at the same time while losing my train of thought every time Rachel demands something from the back seat. She has started using the phrase "RIGHT NOW" and I've told her repeatedly not to do that -- it's disrespectful -- but I was so frustrated in my attempts to have a conversation with my husband and deal with Rachel that I almost screamed at her. It ended up with me hanging up the phone. I've decided that trying to have conversations with people on the way home is totally useless.
Oh, she did say one cute thing. Her daycare took her to a pumpkin patch on Monday and she was more thrilled that she got to ride a bus than she was with the pumpkins (although she told me she wanted Daddy -- or was it Mommy? -- to lift her up in the pumpkin patch). Anyway, tonight she said, "I wanna ride the bus."
"I wanna ride the bus with Mommy and Daddy and James and Patt and Steve and Amanda and Jenn. Hello, everyone!"
Sunday, October 24, 2010
"Try some, Mommy, it's really good!"
That's what Rachel said today as she tried to feed me some of her apple butternut squash baby food. When she said "it's really good," I had to laugh, it sounded so cute.
THEN she proceeded to eat not one, not two, but 2 1/2 bananas. This, after being the only baby I know who actually refused to eat bananas! Yay! Maybe this kid will end up eating normally after all!
Tonight as we were cuddling I told her I wanted to take her to the coast so she could play in the sand. Then I told her I really wanted her to take swimming lessons. "No, I don't want to," she said.
"Go to coast," she said. "No sand. No water."
I burst into laughter. "Rachel, it's impossible to avoid the sand and the water when you're at the coast," I said.
She seemed unconvinced.
THEN she proceeded to eat not one, not two, but 2 1/2 bananas. This, after being the only baby I know who actually refused to eat bananas! Yay! Maybe this kid will end up eating normally after all!
Tonight as we were cuddling I told her I wanted to take her to the coast so she could play in the sand. Then I told her I really wanted her to take swimming lessons. "No, I don't want to," she said.
"Go to coast," she said. "No sand. No water."
I burst into laughter. "Rachel, it's impossible to avoid the sand and the water when you're at the coast," I said.
She seemed unconvinced.
Rainy rainy rainy weekend
I have been dreading the time when the weather turns crummy and I have no playdates scheduled and Rachel and I are stuck in the house over a long weekend. I thought this weekend would turn out to be one of those, but it didn't.
Today it was pouring, but luckily our friend Amy came over with a lion costume for Rachel to wear when she goes trick-or-treating next weekend. She, of course, promptly refused to wear it. I'm sure she will be the only girl not wearing a costume when we go trick-or-treating in Multnomah Village. Oh, well.
By the time Amy left it was time to go grocery shopping. The rain let up a bit, but then it began pouring when we got home. I got Rachel down for a nap, lay down on the loveseat for my own nap (and James typing on his laptop on the big couch, which was a very soothing lullabye), then prepared a roasted chicken, ordered a birthday gift for Mom, filled out my ballot and it was time to wake Rachel up. Then James, Robert and I sat down to dinner; they were very appreciate and Rachel ate A LOT of chicken; then she wanted to play in the living room a bit; we played with blocks, then it was time for Mommy Books and bed, and when I got back to the kitchen it was all clean, James was typing in the living room again and as soon as I make Rachel's lunch for tomorrow, we will sit in front of the fire and I will read the NY Times and MAYBE pay bills. Or I may put off that unpleasant chore until tomorrow night.
All in all, not a bad weekend. I still like to socialize more, though. Keeps me from feleing too lonely.
Today it was pouring, but luckily our friend Amy came over with a lion costume for Rachel to wear when she goes trick-or-treating next weekend. She, of course, promptly refused to wear it. I'm sure she will be the only girl not wearing a costume when we go trick-or-treating in Multnomah Village. Oh, well.
By the time Amy left it was time to go grocery shopping. The rain let up a bit, but then it began pouring when we got home. I got Rachel down for a nap, lay down on the loveseat for my own nap (and James typing on his laptop on the big couch, which was a very soothing lullabye), then prepared a roasted chicken, ordered a birthday gift for Mom, filled out my ballot and it was time to wake Rachel up. Then James, Robert and I sat down to dinner; they were very appreciate and Rachel ate A LOT of chicken; then she wanted to play in the living room a bit; we played with blocks, then it was time for Mommy Books and bed, and when I got back to the kitchen it was all clean, James was typing in the living room again and as soon as I make Rachel's lunch for tomorrow, we will sit in front of the fire and I will read the NY Times and MAYBE pay bills. Or I may put off that unpleasant chore until tomorrow night.
All in all, not a bad weekend. I still like to socialize more, though. Keeps me from feleing too lonely.
What Rachel does before I walk into her room in the morning
I tell people that I love weekends, because Rachel and I sleep late. But that's not really true -- she gets up before me, I'm sure (since I didn't really wake up until 9 today) but she's still in her crib and no longer yells for attention. Oh, around 10 or so I'll hear a little whimper: "Mommymommymommy" as if she's afraid I've forgotten about her, but it's mostly just silence.
Somehow we got on the subject of what she does when she wakes up.
"Play with my puppy," she said (that would be Spot, a yellow stuffed dog, a gift from Mom and Dad).
And then? I asked her.
"Play with my pacifier," she said.
And then?
"Play with monkey," she said.
This is why I keep so many stuffed animals in the crib. At least she has playmates. I hope they'll amuse her for a long time, at least until Drew gets home.
Somehow we got on the subject of what she does when she wakes up.
"Play with my puppy," she said (that would be Spot, a yellow stuffed dog, a gift from Mom and Dad).
And then? I asked her.
"Play with my pacifier," she said.
And then?
"Play with monkey," she said.
This is why I keep so many stuffed animals in the crib. At least she has playmates. I hope they'll amuse her for a long time, at least until Drew gets home.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Banoon house
Apparently there is a "banoon house," that Rachel wants to eat dinner in. Here's the conversation she had with herself in the car on the way home from daycare last night:
"We go in banoon house eat chicken soup. Milk, wadee.
"Sounds good.
Yes."
"We go in banoon house eat chicken soup. Milk, wadee.
"Sounds good.
Yes."
Granola baby
Rachel loves granola. LOVES it. The loose granola that I sprinkle on my yogurt or fruit when I drive into work every morning. The granola bars I hand her every evening as we drive home (and which probably ruin her dinner).
The other day I was commenting on the gorgeous fall day and the beautiful red and gold leaves, and tried to turn it into a science lesson.
"See all the yellow and red leaves, Rachel?" I said. "That's because all the chlorophyll is gone from the leaves. Leaves are filled witih chlorophyll in the summer, that's why they're so green..."
"More granola," she said, totally unimpressed.
"Anyway, when the weather gets cold the cholorphyll leaves and the leaves turn yellow and red, which means they're dying," I said, "and..."
"More granola, Mommy!" she said. So I stopped there.
The other day I was commenting on the gorgeous fall day and the beautiful red and gold leaves, and tried to turn it into a science lesson.
"See all the yellow and red leaves, Rachel?" I said. "That's because all the chlorophyll is gone from the leaves. Leaves are filled witih chlorophyll in the summer, that's why they're so green..."
"More granola," she said, totally unimpressed.
"Anyway, when the weather gets cold the cholorphyll leaves and the leaves turn yellow and red, which means they're dying," I said, "and..."
"More granola, Mommy!" she said. So I stopped there.
Rocking the flu shot
I stole the title of this entry from my friend, who wrote about the same issue for the Mom blog at the Pioneer Press. It really aptly describes how Rachel handled the 3rd flu shot of her young life.
I told her a couple of times that we were going to go in for flu shots, that Mommy was going to get a shot too, and that we needed to do so so we wouldn't get sick. Once or twice she said, "I don't wanna," and "I don't wanna go to the doctor!" So I was sort of dreading the trip, since last year she screamed and cried and I had to take her in my lap and cuddle her for about a half-hour or so.
But today, she acted as if the shot was a special cool thing just for her. As we pulled into the clinic she said, "Flu shots!" pointing to the sign that said Flu Shots. My heart stopped for a minute because I thought that meant she could READ! Then she followed up with, "Flu shot for ME!"
Then we went to the basement of Kaiser Permanente and I briefly considered signing her up for the flu mist in her nose, but then the nurse said it's not advised until kids are 3 and can actually sniff it up their nostrils (yucky, as Rachel would say).
So I walked in, dreading the shots for Rachel and myself. They gave one to me first and it didn't hurt AT ALL -- just a tiny sting. Then the woman quickly pulled aside the neck of Rachel's shirt, swabbed her and stuck the needle in -- and Rachel barely cried! She hardly whimpered! She was a total champ! She was so awesome that when the nurse gave her a lollipop she didn't even open it because she DIDN'T NEED IT! ATTA GIRL!
I had a bag of cookies and graham crackers and I felt obligated to offer her a cookie even though she clearly was not experiencing any trauma. And we followed up with the trip to the farmer's market, where I bought the last strawberries of the season, probably, and some other good things that I would never normally trek there for -- it is too expensive on our very limited budget -- but I told Rachel we would go to the market after the nastiness of the flu shots and I felt obligated to honor my promise. Which, in the end, I probably didn't need to do.
But the point is: We are immunized for this season -- no need to worry about getting the flu (cross fingers here) -- and Rachel won't have to deal with another round of shots until she's 4 (flu shots next winter again, but by then Drew will be back and he can take her if need be).
I am very relieved, even if the event was rather anticlimatic. I told that to Rachel, but she didn't respond.
More random Rachel:
Once in a while I'll say in mock exasperation, "Rachel, what am I going to DO with you?"
The answer is always the same: "Tickle me!"
***
Today as I was driving home from the library I said, "Guess who's going down for a nap as soon as we get home?"
"Me!" Rachel said, so brightly that I cracked up.
I told her a couple of times that we were going to go in for flu shots, that Mommy was going to get a shot too, and that we needed to do so so we wouldn't get sick. Once or twice she said, "I don't wanna," and "I don't wanna go to the doctor!" So I was sort of dreading the trip, since last year she screamed and cried and I had to take her in my lap and cuddle her for about a half-hour or so.
But today, she acted as if the shot was a special cool thing just for her. As we pulled into the clinic she said, "Flu shots!" pointing to the sign that said Flu Shots. My heart stopped for a minute because I thought that meant she could READ! Then she followed up with, "Flu shot for ME!"
Then we went to the basement of Kaiser Permanente and I briefly considered signing her up for the flu mist in her nose, but then the nurse said it's not advised until kids are 3 and can actually sniff it up their nostrils (yucky, as Rachel would say).
So I walked in, dreading the shots for Rachel and myself. They gave one to me first and it didn't hurt AT ALL -- just a tiny sting. Then the woman quickly pulled aside the neck of Rachel's shirt, swabbed her and stuck the needle in -- and Rachel barely cried! She hardly whimpered! She was a total champ! She was so awesome that when the nurse gave her a lollipop she didn't even open it because she DIDN'T NEED IT! ATTA GIRL!
I had a bag of cookies and graham crackers and I felt obligated to offer her a cookie even though she clearly was not experiencing any trauma. And we followed up with the trip to the farmer's market, where I bought the last strawberries of the season, probably, and some other good things that I would never normally trek there for -- it is too expensive on our very limited budget -- but I told Rachel we would go to the market after the nastiness of the flu shots and I felt obligated to honor my promise. Which, in the end, I probably didn't need to do.
But the point is: We are immunized for this season -- no need to worry about getting the flu (cross fingers here) -- and Rachel won't have to deal with another round of shots until she's 4 (flu shots next winter again, but by then Drew will be back and he can take her if need be).
I am very relieved, even if the event was rather anticlimatic. I told that to Rachel, but she didn't respond.
More random Rachel:
Once in a while I'll say in mock exasperation, "Rachel, what am I going to DO with you?"
The answer is always the same: "Tickle me!"
***
Today as I was driving home from the library I said, "Guess who's going down for a nap as soon as we get home?"
"Me!" Rachel said, so brightly that I cracked up.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Magical bike
A while ago my pediatrician gave me a book called, "The Magical Years" that explains the thinking of toddlers. Basically, toddlers believe that they have complete power over their dominions -- that if they're hungry, food magically appears, etc. Or something like that. Anyway, an incident today probably convinced Rachel that she, too, has magical powers.
I was at a securities regulation conference in Portland, and Rachel spent the day with Constance. One of the things they did was take a walk. Constance asked Rachel if she had a bike. Rachel said no, but that she wanted one that was pink.
Lo and behold, they walked a little further and -- guess what appeared? A perfect, toddler-sized pinky-purplish tricycle! Attached to it was a sign saying "FREE." So, naturally, Constance snatched it up and they pedaled back home. (Rachel clambered onto the seat all by herself and Constance pushed from behind. "She's so smart that she'll figure out how to use the pedals in no time!" Constance said).
I had kind of a depressing day, so the news that Rachel now has a free tricycle that should last her until age 3 or 4 was very welcome news. Now all I need to do is take her to the bike store this weekend to buy a helmet, and when it stops raining we can start taking her for bike rides. Yay!
I was at a securities regulation conference in Portland, and Rachel spent the day with Constance. One of the things they did was take a walk. Constance asked Rachel if she had a bike. Rachel said no, but that she wanted one that was pink.
Lo and behold, they walked a little further and -- guess what appeared? A perfect, toddler-sized pinky-purplish tricycle! Attached to it was a sign saying "FREE." So, naturally, Constance snatched it up and they pedaled back home. (Rachel clambered onto the seat all by herself and Constance pushed from behind. "She's so smart that she'll figure out how to use the pedals in no time!" Constance said).
I had kind of a depressing day, so the news that Rachel now has a free tricycle that should last her until age 3 or 4 was very welcome news. Now all I need to do is take her to the bike store this weekend to buy a helmet, and when it stops raining we can start taking her for bike rides. Yay!
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Adorable Rachel
This morning, Rachel took her little finger puppet, Bunny (Bunny doesn't have a name, according to Rachel; it's just 'Bunny') and offered it some granola.
"Want some granola, Bunny?" she asked, then pretended to feed the granola I had just handed her from the front seat. She then pretended to feed Bunny some milk from her sippy cup.
Then she gave Bunny a firm kiss.
***
Last night as I got ready to haul her from daycare and then to Target and then home, she said, "Mommy go to sleep. I cook dinner for you."
I almost started weeping, it was so considerate of her. And so welcome at that moment.
***
Last Saturday I had a potluck dinner party with three friends -- Kim, Nikole and Melissa -- and Nikole's baby, Nadja. Rachel picked up a disposable camera I had bought earlier that day during a trip to a pumpkin patch on Sauvie Island. Handing it to me, she said, in perfectly clear language, "Show me how this works."
Needless to say, I was stunned. David Lednicer, if you're reading this, it's fine to turn her into an engineer -- but only if you get her to wear a dress once in a while.
"Want some granola, Bunny?" she asked, then pretended to feed the granola I had just handed her from the front seat. She then pretended to feed Bunny some milk from her sippy cup.
Then she gave Bunny a firm kiss.
***
Last night as I got ready to haul her from daycare and then to Target and then home, she said, "Mommy go to sleep. I cook dinner for you."
I almost started weeping, it was so considerate of her. And so welcome at that moment.
***
Last Saturday I had a potluck dinner party with three friends -- Kim, Nikole and Melissa -- and Nikole's baby, Nadja. Rachel picked up a disposable camera I had bought earlier that day during a trip to a pumpkin patch on Sauvie Island. Handing it to me, she said, in perfectly clear language, "Show me how this works."
Needless to say, I was stunned. David Lednicer, if you're reading this, it's fine to turn her into an engineer -- but only if you get her to wear a dress once in a while.
Jukebox Mama
Betcha didn't know that I am a mobile jukebox, didja? Because my daughter demands songs on the way to and from work, all day, every day, I keep a songbook next to me in the car so I can flip through it at a glance and start singing everything from the Beatles to Quaker hymnals.
Rachel's two current favorites: "Rise and Shine," an old black spiritual that I learned at Y day camp eons ago, and "Solidarity Forever," a pro-union ditty set to the tune of "Battle Hymn of the Republic." She frequently interrupts "Rise and Shine," to say, "I LOVE that song." And I must say, it is great to barrel down I-5 on these glorious, crisp, sunny fall mornings singing such get-up-and-go songs. (Although "Solidarity Forever" made me cry the other day because of the state of the union movement...but that's another post).
So if you see me glancing quickly at a songbook and hear a little voice saying, "Mommy, sing ANOTHER new song," you'll know the story behind the story.
Rachel's two current favorites: "Rise and Shine," an old black spiritual that I learned at Y day camp eons ago, and "Solidarity Forever," a pro-union ditty set to the tune of "Battle Hymn of the Republic." She frequently interrupts "Rise and Shine," to say, "I LOVE that song." And I must say, it is great to barrel down I-5 on these glorious, crisp, sunny fall mornings singing such get-up-and-go songs. (Although "Solidarity Forever" made me cry the other day because of the state of the union movement...but that's another post).
So if you see me glancing quickly at a songbook and hear a little voice saying, "Mommy, sing ANOTHER new song," you'll know the story behind the story.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
James gets a kick out of Rachel
Tonight was the first full night that James was here. It was nice to have someone at home when we got home, even if he had already eaten dinner.
Rachel was pretty genial. "Where's James?" she asked when we got in, and she seemed glad to see him sitting at the kitchen table, working on his computer.
The laugh line of the night was when she was whining and looking up at the baby food carousel.
"Do you want something, Rachel, or are you just whining?" I said.
"I just whining," she answered.
To which James replied that he'll probably be laughing a lot.
At bedtime, she willingly gave him a hug. He was touched.
I'm hoping this all bodes well for the next three months.
Rachel was pretty genial. "Where's James?" she asked when we got in, and she seemed glad to see him sitting at the kitchen table, working on his computer.
The laugh line of the night was when she was whining and looking up at the baby food carousel.
"Do you want something, Rachel, or are you just whining?" I said.
"I just whining," she answered.
To which James replied that he'll probably be laughing a lot.
At bedtime, she willingly gave him a hug. He was touched.
I'm hoping this all bodes well for the next three months.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Conversations with Rachel, Part 2
On the way home from work today, I remarked that it was dark outside (it was 6:40 p.m.)
"It not dark outside!" Rachel answered. "It's cloudy outside."
"No, honey, it's dark outside," I said.
"No, it's cloudy!" she insisted. "Siwee girl!" (Silly girl?!?!)
***
I was putting her to bed and said, "Do you love me, Rachel?"
"No," she replied. "I like Daddy. I like Daddy better."
I put down "Runaway Bunny" and told her quite seriously that she had hurt Mommy's feelings and asked her to say I'm sorry.
She thought for a minute.
"I sorry," she said.
"Say that you love Mommy and Daddy equally," I insisted.
"I sorry, Mommy Daddy eqalee," she said.
I gave her points for trying. Not that this means she necessarily loves us equally; it's easy to love Daddy better because when he comes home, it's like a holiday. Whereas with Mommy, it's rushing to work, and then home, and then dinner, and bed, and playdates and errands on the weekends, and Mommy is grumpy and achy and stressed a lot.
***
I have rented the basement to a tenant named James, a nice, middle-aged gay man who's leaving mid-January to teach in Southeast Asia. I've been preparing Rachel for his arrival so she knew to expect him. She was quite taken by him and even almost hugged his leg. When he went out to move his car to the driveway she got very upset and said, "Where's James?" and started crying. "Where'd James go?" she asked a couple of times tonight.
I think she just misses having a man in the house.
"It not dark outside!" Rachel answered. "It's cloudy outside."
"No, honey, it's dark outside," I said.
"No, it's cloudy!" she insisted. "Siwee girl!" (Silly girl?!?!)
***
I was putting her to bed and said, "Do you love me, Rachel?"
"No," she replied. "I like Daddy. I like Daddy better."
I put down "Runaway Bunny" and told her quite seriously that she had hurt Mommy's feelings and asked her to say I'm sorry.
She thought for a minute.
"I sorry," she said.
"Say that you love Mommy and Daddy equally," I insisted.
"I sorry, Mommy Daddy eqalee," she said.
I gave her points for trying. Not that this means she necessarily loves us equally; it's easy to love Daddy better because when he comes home, it's like a holiday. Whereas with Mommy, it's rushing to work, and then home, and then dinner, and bed, and playdates and errands on the weekends, and Mommy is grumpy and achy and stressed a lot.
***
I have rented the basement to a tenant named James, a nice, middle-aged gay man who's leaving mid-January to teach in Southeast Asia. I've been preparing Rachel for his arrival so she knew to expect him. She was quite taken by him and even almost hugged his leg. When he went out to move his car to the driveway she got very upset and said, "Where's James?" and started crying. "Where'd James go?" she asked a couple of times tonight.
I think she just misses having a man in the house.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Conversations with Rachel
Today on the way to work, I called Rachel a "silly goose."
Then I wondered aloud, "Why silly goose, Rachel? Why not silly elephant?"
"NO silly elephant!" she said. "Don't SAY that!"
"Why not silly gorilla?" I said, teasing her.
"NO silly gorilla!" she said. "Don't SAY that!"
Then she picked it up from there.
"Why not silly hippopotamus?" she said.
***
Lately when she doesn't want to eat the rest of her food she'll say, "Take it AWAY, Mommy!"
***
We're reading a bedtime book about some mean girls who tease two nice girls with glasses who are "two of a kind." The mean girls are named Melanie and Kayla; the nice girls are Anna and Julisa.
When I read the part that talked about Kayla and Melanie on top of the jungle gym and not inviting anyone to join them, Rachel pointed to the picture of Kayla and said sternly, "Kayla. Go to BED!"
***
I told her that we need to go to the library next weekend to turn in the books we have and get new ones. She said the following sentence that would warm any mom's heart:
"I LOVE the library!"
***
Earlier tonight she kept whining and crying that she wanted to cuddle. I think she was just tired -- we got to daycare an hour earlier than usual because I had an 8:30 a.m. meeting -- and she immediately fell asleep as soon as we got on the highway.
When we finally cuddled in the "big chair" (i.e., the glider in the bedroom) tonight, she said:
"No tickle."
"No tickle, Rachel? How about kissing?"
"No kissing," she said firmly. "Just hugging."
***
"I go pumpkin patch!" she said excitedly tonight. They must have told all the toddlers that they're going on a field trip in two weeks to look at pumpkins at a pumpkin patch. "On bus," Rachel said. "I go on bus. You go too, Mommy." I'm sure it'll be a great day for her, especially if it includes a hayride, apple slices, apple cider, pumpkins....wish I could help chaperone but I don't have enough vacation time. Sigh.
Then I wondered aloud, "Why silly goose, Rachel? Why not silly elephant?"
"NO silly elephant!" she said. "Don't SAY that!"
"Why not silly gorilla?" I said, teasing her.
"NO silly gorilla!" she said. "Don't SAY that!"
Then she picked it up from there.
"Why not silly hippopotamus?" she said.
***
Lately when she doesn't want to eat the rest of her food she'll say, "Take it AWAY, Mommy!"
***
We're reading a bedtime book about some mean girls who tease two nice girls with glasses who are "two of a kind." The mean girls are named Melanie and Kayla; the nice girls are Anna and Julisa.
When I read the part that talked about Kayla and Melanie on top of the jungle gym and not inviting anyone to join them, Rachel pointed to the picture of Kayla and said sternly, "Kayla. Go to BED!"
***
I told her that we need to go to the library next weekend to turn in the books we have and get new ones. She said the following sentence that would warm any mom's heart:
"I LOVE the library!"
***
Earlier tonight she kept whining and crying that she wanted to cuddle. I think she was just tired -- we got to daycare an hour earlier than usual because I had an 8:30 a.m. meeting -- and she immediately fell asleep as soon as we got on the highway.
When we finally cuddled in the "big chair" (i.e., the glider in the bedroom) tonight, she said:
"No tickle."
"No tickle, Rachel? How about kissing?"
"No kissing," she said firmly. "Just hugging."
***
"I go pumpkin patch!" she said excitedly tonight. They must have told all the toddlers that they're going on a field trip in two weeks to look at pumpkins at a pumpkin patch. "On bus," Rachel said. "I go on bus. You go too, Mommy." I'm sure it'll be a great day for her, especially if it includes a hayride, apple slices, apple cider, pumpkins....wish I could help chaperone but I don't have enough vacation time. Sigh.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Daddy hides in Rachel's sock
I bought some extremely cool new socks for Rachel from a consignment store near the library. Promised to take her to the library this coming weekend, when all her books (only two of which she liked) are due. I also bought shoes at the same store. Rachel wore the socks and shoes today.
On the way home from daycare she said, "Daddy in my sock today." Then, peering down one of her socks, she said, "Daddy, where ARE you?"
It was, needless to say, cute and heartbreaking at the same time.
As we were waiting for a red light to turn green, she said: "Don't GO, people!"
And then as we neared our street, she said, "almost home!" and "Daddy working on computer. Daddy working in New York. Mommy working."
"Yes, Rachel," I said. "Mommy's working."
Then a couple of seconds later she said, "Daddy's crying."
"Really, Rachel?" I asked. (I had just gotten off the phone with Drew and it was a terse conversation because Rachel was whiny, I was tired and achy in my right arm -- I'm going to physical therapy on Wednesday -- and I have two canker sores in my mouth that are bothering the hell out of me. So, yes, I was more than a little cranky today).
"Daddy's mad," she said.
Then she added, "Daddy's mad at Mommy."
If you are, Drew, I'm sorry for being so grumpy tonight.
On the way home from daycare she said, "Daddy in my sock today." Then, peering down one of her socks, she said, "Daddy, where ARE you?"
It was, needless to say, cute and heartbreaking at the same time.
As we were waiting for a red light to turn green, she said: "Don't GO, people!"
And then as we neared our street, she said, "almost home!" and "Daddy working on computer. Daddy working in New York. Mommy working."
"Yes, Rachel," I said. "Mommy's working."
Then a couple of seconds later she said, "Daddy's crying."
"Really, Rachel?" I asked. (I had just gotten off the phone with Drew and it was a terse conversation because Rachel was whiny, I was tired and achy in my right arm -- I'm going to physical therapy on Wednesday -- and I have two canker sores in my mouth that are bothering the hell out of me. So, yes, I was more than a little cranky today).
"Daddy's mad," she said.
Then she added, "Daddy's mad at Mommy."
If you are, Drew, I'm sorry for being so grumpy tonight.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
lovely Sunday
This morning my friend Linda brought her daughter Devin over for a playdate. Devin was born a week after Rachel and we met her at St. James, Rachel's former daycare. Luckily Linda and I kept in touch and I kept reassuring her that we'll be back at St. James as soon as Drew returns from NYC. Linda said today that she misses seeing us when she picks her daughter up at night!
The two girls had a lovely time together. I explained to Rachel that she needed to share her toys with Devin and she was GREAT; practically as soon as she came in Rachel toddled to the dining room table, got a book and handed it to Devin. Later she handed her some puzzle pieces to play with. It was ADORABLE. I made tea for Linda and we talked while the girls chased each other around the kitchen and dining room, shrieking with laughter.
Later we went upstairs for a bit, and Rachel got very upset when Devin climbed on her go-Kart. I couldn't get her to calm down. Then I suggested they play with the tub of plastic balls, and when Devin pushed the tub up against Rachel, Rachel got upset and said, "Don't push me. That's not OK" and started crying again. That seemed to be the sign for Devin and Linda to go home. Besides, Rachel suddenly said, "I wanna take walk in Rachey cah" and Devin chimed in that SHE wanted to take a walk too, so...Linda nad Devin left and Rachel and I got Rachey Car and took a walk. We will probably see Linda and Devin again at the beginning of November, this time for a playdate at their house.
Our walk was really nice; the day and a half of steady rain cleared out and it was a gorgeous, brisk fall day. Reminded me a bit of Africa when I smelled woodsmoke in the air. We looked at some flowers, Rachel did some pushing of the car for a while, and she ate two granola bars, pieces of an apple and some raisins (this is what passes for lunch in my household on weekends).
Funny quote of the day: Rachel was examining some pebbles when she got that telltale look on her face.
"Rachel, are you pooping?" I asked.
"No, I just farting," she said.
I laughed and laughed, even though I shouldn't have because I've told her that "fart" is a bad word. Of course, as soon as she saw me laughing she said "I farting" over and over.
Sweet quote of the day: As we arrived back home for nap, Rachel said, "I have good day."
"I'm having a good day too, Rachel!" I answered.
And I am.
The two girls had a lovely time together. I explained to Rachel that she needed to share her toys with Devin and she was GREAT; practically as soon as she came in Rachel toddled to the dining room table, got a book and handed it to Devin. Later she handed her some puzzle pieces to play with. It was ADORABLE. I made tea for Linda and we talked while the girls chased each other around the kitchen and dining room, shrieking with laughter.
Later we went upstairs for a bit, and Rachel got very upset when Devin climbed on her go-Kart. I couldn't get her to calm down. Then I suggested they play with the tub of plastic balls, and when Devin pushed the tub up against Rachel, Rachel got upset and said, "Don't push me. That's not OK" and started crying again. That seemed to be the sign for Devin and Linda to go home. Besides, Rachel suddenly said, "I wanna take walk in Rachey cah" and Devin chimed in that SHE wanted to take a walk too, so...Linda nad Devin left and Rachel and I got Rachey Car and took a walk. We will probably see Linda and Devin again at the beginning of November, this time for a playdate at their house.
Our walk was really nice; the day and a half of steady rain cleared out and it was a gorgeous, brisk fall day. Reminded me a bit of Africa when I smelled woodsmoke in the air. We looked at some flowers, Rachel did some pushing of the car for a while, and she ate two granola bars, pieces of an apple and some raisins (this is what passes for lunch in my household on weekends).
Funny quote of the day: Rachel was examining some pebbles when she got that telltale look on her face.
"Rachel, are you pooping?" I asked.
"No, I just farting," she said.
I laughed and laughed, even though I shouldn't have because I've told her that "fart" is a bad word. Of course, as soon as she saw me laughing she said "I farting" over and over.
Sweet quote of the day: As we arrived back home for nap, Rachel said, "I have good day."
"I'm having a good day too, Rachel!" I answered.
And I am.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
busy Saturday!
It was pouring this morning, a reminder that the cold, rainy, dark days of winter are upon us. Rachel is coughing upstairs as I write this, a reminder that I'll have to drag out the humidifier to moisten the air. Which means I'll be stuck with washing it every couple of days and refilling it -- ugh.
As I was getting breakfast together, I noticed that we only have a few slices of artisan bacon left (I can't bring myself to buy the nitrate-filled stuff at the grocery store when Drew has turned me on to artisan bacon at the farmer's market. However, we can no longer afford the farmer's market so I've stopped buying bacon. Which means we have none to get us through the long winter. Yet another reason to anticipate Drew's return).
"We running out of bacon," Rachel observed.
Then I remarked that she didn't like the blackberries I had put in her lunch bag this week. (I ended up eating them for breakfast this morning).
"I don't like blackberries," Rachel said. "I like strawberries better."
After breakfast I dropped off some dry cleaning, took Rachel to a consignment store and bought a few items for her, then went to a pastry place to buy our breakfast scones for the next few weeks and THEN to the grocery store. Whew!
When I sang her to sleep for her nap, she said a soft "yay!" at the end of "Roll on Columbia." Then, after the first few words of "Red River Valley," she interrupted me to say, "I LOVE that song!"
When she woke up we went my friend Suzanne's house and had dinner with her, her husband Steve, and daugther Lila. Lila is a few months older that Rachel. Suzanne and I have both left the Oregonian; she now works at Portland State writing for the school's Website. She's expecting another baby soon, a girl.
The evening almost ended before it began when Rachel was freaked out by their small dog, Mochi, who raced out to greet her, barking and trying to lick her legs. Rachel screamed and screamed, and I had to take her into a living room chair to cuddle while Steve gracious took Mochi over to a neighbor's house for a playdate. (I really have got to get Rachel to accept dogs or else she will have NO FRIENDS in the entire city).
After that incident we had a lovely time. Rachel and Lila actually got on quite well together except for a few distressing moments when Rachel took a toy or two that Lila wanted to play with. At one point, Rachel was wheeling around Lila's dolly carriage and Lila was wheeling around a toy car and they both stood in one place, stomped their feet and rattled the handles of their respective vehicles and absolutely shrieked with laughter (Lila louder that Rachel, probably because she's older?). It was sooo cuuute!
Then we all moved to Lila's small room and watched as Lila and Rachel played with Lego-like building blocks. At one point they both decided they wanted to build tall towers and it was a joy to watch them as they worked. The whole night made me feel a little less lonely in the world.
As I was getting breakfast together, I noticed that we only have a few slices of artisan bacon left (I can't bring myself to buy the nitrate-filled stuff at the grocery store when Drew has turned me on to artisan bacon at the farmer's market. However, we can no longer afford the farmer's market so I've stopped buying bacon. Which means we have none to get us through the long winter. Yet another reason to anticipate Drew's return).
"We running out of bacon," Rachel observed.
Then I remarked that she didn't like the blackberries I had put in her lunch bag this week. (I ended up eating them for breakfast this morning).
"I don't like blackberries," Rachel said. "I like strawberries better."
After breakfast I dropped off some dry cleaning, took Rachel to a consignment store and bought a few items for her, then went to a pastry place to buy our breakfast scones for the next few weeks and THEN to the grocery store. Whew!
When I sang her to sleep for her nap, she said a soft "yay!" at the end of "Roll on Columbia." Then, after the first few words of "Red River Valley," she interrupted me to say, "I LOVE that song!"
When she woke up we went my friend Suzanne's house and had dinner with her, her husband Steve, and daugther Lila. Lila is a few months older that Rachel. Suzanne and I have both left the Oregonian; she now works at Portland State writing for the school's Website. She's expecting another baby soon, a girl.
The evening almost ended before it began when Rachel was freaked out by their small dog, Mochi, who raced out to greet her, barking and trying to lick her legs. Rachel screamed and screamed, and I had to take her into a living room chair to cuddle while Steve gracious took Mochi over to a neighbor's house for a playdate. (I really have got to get Rachel to accept dogs or else she will have NO FRIENDS in the entire city).
After that incident we had a lovely time. Rachel and Lila actually got on quite well together except for a few distressing moments when Rachel took a toy or two that Lila wanted to play with. At one point, Rachel was wheeling around Lila's dolly carriage and Lila was wheeling around a toy car and they both stood in one place, stomped their feet and rattled the handles of their respective vehicles and absolutely shrieked with laughter (Lila louder that Rachel, probably because she's older?). It was sooo cuuute!
Then we all moved to Lila's small room and watched as Lila and Rachel played with Lego-like building blocks. At one point they both decided they wanted to build tall towers and it was a joy to watch them as they worked. The whole night made me feel a little less lonely in the world.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Commuting, part 479
As we headed south, late as usual, Rachel noticed before I did that the cars on I-5 had started slowing down.
"Uh-oh," she said. "Mommy, what happened?"
I almost burst out laughing. Instead, I said, "I don't know, Rachel. What do YOU think happened? An accident?"
She didn't answer.
"Uh-oh," she said. "Mommy, what happened?"
I almost burst out laughing. Instead, I said, "I don't know, Rachel. What do YOU think happened? An accident?"
She didn't answer.
We don't like bathtime anymore
..in fact, Rachel HATES it. "I wanna cuddle," she says sweetly whenever I try to dislodge her from my lap and start the bath process. It takes me back to my own childhood, when I'm sure I had my own little tricks to get Mom to let me stay up later. It probably involved trying to be extra cuddly.
The other night when I was washing her hair, she cried out, "be nice, Mommy!" and then started wailing when water got in her eyes and on her face. I've told her time and time again to close her eyes but it just doesn't register. Perhaps that's why the thought of swimming horrifies her -- she has repeatedly said NO when I've suggested it.
The other night when I was washing her hair, she cried out, "be nice, Mommy!" and then started wailing when water got in her eyes and on her face. I've told her time and time again to close her eyes but it just doesn't register. Perhaps that's why the thought of swimming horrifies her -- she has repeatedly said NO when I've suggested it.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
makeup???
Today as we were driving to Salem, I remarked that "Mommy has a big purse."
"I have a purse, too," Rachel said.
"Really, Rachel?" I asked. "Is it big or little?"
"Little," she said.
"What's in your purse?" I said.
Her response: (garbled) and then, "Makeup!"
"Makeup?" I asked, astonished. (I carry none in my own purse -- I put on the works in the morning, then let it fade throughout the day until when I pick Rachel up and it looks like I have on no makeup at all)
"Makeup!" she said.
I'm beginning to think she has a secret life away from Mommy and I have no clue what goes on there.
***
As we got home tonight, I noted that she had made a mess in the backseat. (Really, it wasn't as bad as usual). Then she started yelling and screaming, "I MAKE BIG MESS!" "Please STOP it, Rachel," I insisted. "Don't scream. You're hurting Mommy's ears."
"I sorry, Mommy," she replied. "I soft voice."
***
We were at dinner and she insisted I try some of her apple butternut squash, the stuff that comes in baby jars and even she refers to as "baby food," which is very distressing but I can't seem to wean her off it.
"No thank you," I said politely.
"Try some!" she insisted.
"No thank you, it's for Rachel," I replied.
"Try some," she said.
"No, Rachel."
"Try some!" she persisted. "It tastes good!"
"NO, RACHEL," I snapped. "I don't WANT any!"
She immediately started crying and I thought of how awful I must have sounded and how bad she must have felt that I rejected her heartfelt offer of sharing food.
I waited a bit, then pulled my chair next to hers and plunked her on my lap.
"Rachel, sweetie, it was so nice of you to offer Mommy food," I said. "But when Mommy says no, she really means no."
She sniffled a bit and then asked for Mommy books.
"I have a purse, too," Rachel said.
"Really, Rachel?" I asked. "Is it big or little?"
"Little," she said.
"What's in your purse?" I said.
Her response: (garbled) and then, "Makeup!"
"Makeup?" I asked, astonished. (I carry none in my own purse -- I put on the works in the morning, then let it fade throughout the day until when I pick Rachel up and it looks like I have on no makeup at all)
"Makeup!" she said.
I'm beginning to think she has a secret life away from Mommy and I have no clue what goes on there.
***
As we got home tonight, I noted that she had made a mess in the backseat. (Really, it wasn't as bad as usual). Then she started yelling and screaming, "I MAKE BIG MESS!" "Please STOP it, Rachel," I insisted. "Don't scream. You're hurting Mommy's ears."
"I sorry, Mommy," she replied. "I soft voice."
***
We were at dinner and she insisted I try some of her apple butternut squash, the stuff that comes in baby jars and even she refers to as "baby food," which is very distressing but I can't seem to wean her off it.
"No thank you," I said politely.
"Try some!" she insisted.
"No thank you, it's for Rachel," I replied.
"Try some," she said.
"No, Rachel."
"Try some!" she persisted. "It tastes good!"
"NO, RACHEL," I snapped. "I don't WANT any!"
She immediately started crying and I thought of how awful I must have sounded and how bad she must have felt that I rejected her heartfelt offer of sharing food.
I waited a bit, then pulled my chair next to hers and plunked her on my lap.
"Rachel, sweetie, it was so nice of you to offer Mommy food," I said. "But when Mommy says no, she really means no."
She sniffled a bit and then asked for Mommy books.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
"Mommy screamed at me"
..my heart stopped when Rachel said that tonight. It's true, I yelled at her twice today. Once was when she was mad that I wouldn't cuddle longer with her in the car after I picked her up from daycare. It was almost 6:30 and all I could think of was the urgency of coming home, washing hands, changing clothes, setting the table, warming up dinner, eating dinner, doing Mommy Books, and getting Rachel to sleep all by 9 p.m.
(Parenthetical thought: I'm beginning to think that the hell with it, I'll have to pick her up before 6. We need time together and I can't stand coming home and having to run around crazily just to get food on the table. If we get home at 7 instead of 7:30, I bet that will make a difference).
Anyway...she got mad when I cut the cuddling short. After I started driving away with her buckled in the backseat, she took one of the pebbles she collected and threw it towards me. It scared me enough so that I turned around and yelled, "DON'T THROW THOSE ROCKS! IT'S DANGEROUS!" (I had visions of her throwing them at my head and me swerving directly into the path of an oncoming car). She immediately started sobbing, then stopped after a few minutes. By the time we got on the highway she had fallen asleep.
The second time was when she got mad that I wouldn't cuddle and read to her on the living-room couch because I had to get dinner on the table. She got so mad that she threw a plastic songbook on the kitchen floor, startling me. "Rachel, DON'T THROW THINGS ON THE FLOOR!" I yelled. (This was after she had followed me into the kitchen, crying, book in hand, because I wouldn't read to her but invited her to join me in the kitchen with the book). I was upset because I hate loud noises, I was startled and there is something awful about throwing books; it feels like a desecration. So whenever Rachel throws books when she's mad, I scold her -- but usually a lot more gently).
I let her cry for a minute or two, then took her into my lap and told her why I was upset -- that she had scared Mommy by throwing the book and that I wasn't mad at her, I was mad at what she had done. Then somehow we got into a tickle-fest and then she asked for Big Kiss and Big Hug, and everything was OK.
But then she said, "Mommy screamed at me" as I was putting her to bed, which meant my anger had made an impression on her. That made me think. I really don't want her to remember this year as one where Mommy was crabby and anxious and tired and mad all the time. That would completely break my heart (and make me wildly jealous of Drew, who will be a rock star when he comes home because Rachel misses him so much). I love her so dearly; all I want to do when she's around is cuddle her, hug her, kiss her and read books. And tickle. And joke around.
I feel lucky every day that I get to be her mommy and I always want her to feel close to me, even when she grows up. It's so easy to wreck a relationship with your kids and that is the driving force behind everything I do with her. I want us to love each other fiercely but be proud of each other as independent beings and, when she's older, I long to have a close, almost-best friends relationship.
But I won't be able to do that if all she remembers is Mommy yelling at her all the time.
(Parenthetical thought: I'm beginning to think that the hell with it, I'll have to pick her up before 6. We need time together and I can't stand coming home and having to run around crazily just to get food on the table. If we get home at 7 instead of 7:30, I bet that will make a difference).
Anyway...she got mad when I cut the cuddling short. After I started driving away with her buckled in the backseat, she took one of the pebbles she collected and threw it towards me. It scared me enough so that I turned around and yelled, "DON'T THROW THOSE ROCKS! IT'S DANGEROUS!" (I had visions of her throwing them at my head and me swerving directly into the path of an oncoming car). She immediately started sobbing, then stopped after a few minutes. By the time we got on the highway she had fallen asleep.
The second time was when she got mad that I wouldn't cuddle and read to her on the living-room couch because I had to get dinner on the table. She got so mad that she threw a plastic songbook on the kitchen floor, startling me. "Rachel, DON'T THROW THINGS ON THE FLOOR!" I yelled. (This was after she had followed me into the kitchen, crying, book in hand, because I wouldn't read to her but invited her to join me in the kitchen with the book). I was upset because I hate loud noises, I was startled and there is something awful about throwing books; it feels like a desecration. So whenever Rachel throws books when she's mad, I scold her -- but usually a lot more gently).
I let her cry for a minute or two, then took her into my lap and told her why I was upset -- that she had scared Mommy by throwing the book and that I wasn't mad at her, I was mad at what she had done. Then somehow we got into a tickle-fest and then she asked for Big Kiss and Big Hug, and everything was OK.
But then she said, "Mommy screamed at me" as I was putting her to bed, which meant my anger had made an impression on her. That made me think. I really don't want her to remember this year as one where Mommy was crabby and anxious and tired and mad all the time. That would completely break my heart (and make me wildly jealous of Drew, who will be a rock star when he comes home because Rachel misses him so much). I love her so dearly; all I want to do when she's around is cuddle her, hug her, kiss her and read books. And tickle. And joke around.
I feel lucky every day that I get to be her mommy and I always want her to feel close to me, even when she grows up. It's so easy to wreck a relationship with your kids and that is the driving force behind everything I do with her. I want us to love each other fiercely but be proud of each other as independent beings and, when she's older, I long to have a close, almost-best friends relationship.
But I won't be able to do that if all she remembers is Mommy yelling at her all the time.
Why I know Rachel is becoming more used to commuting
..the first thing Rachel said today after I woke her up was: "I wanna get on the I-5!"
(Note that she says "THE I-5" instead of just "I-5." I think that's a West Coast thing because I don't remember ever saying that I wanted to get on "the Route 80," it was just, "Route 80." Ugh, is my daughter really a West Coaster? How did THAT happen?)
After I posted her remarks on Facebook, my friend Dave Jones noted that pretty soon, she'll want her own E-Z pass.
(Note that she says "THE I-5" instead of just "I-5." I think that's a West Coast thing because I don't remember ever saying that I wanted to get on "the Route 80," it was just, "Route 80." Ugh, is my daughter really a West Coaster? How did THAT happen?)
After I posted her remarks on Facebook, my friend Dave Jones noted that pretty soon, she'll want her own E-Z pass.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
"You look so pretty!"
That's what Rachel said to me -- me! Her frumpy, still-has-20-or-so-pounds-to-lose-Mommy! -- as I sat down on the floor with her this morning to help her into her socks and shoes.
I thanked her profusely and hugged her. Is there any better gift?
I'm also teaching her to say where she lives in case, heaven forbid, we get separated somehow and she ends up wandering the streets of Salem, wondering where the hell Mommy is with the diaper bag full of apple chips, raisins and other goodies.
"What highway are we on, Rachel?"
"Aye five!"
"Where do we live, Rachel?"
"N'west Pot-land!" (that's NorthEAST, I told her tonight)
"What neighborhood do we live in, Rachel? Remember? IRVINGTON!"
"Irvington!" she said, pronouncing it perfectly.
Somehow, I don't worry about her ability to someday look out for herself. She's smart enough, I think.
I thanked her profusely and hugged her. Is there any better gift?
I'm also teaching her to say where she lives in case, heaven forbid, we get separated somehow and she ends up wandering the streets of Salem, wondering where the hell Mommy is with the diaper bag full of apple chips, raisins and other goodies.
"What highway are we on, Rachel?"
"Aye five!"
"Where do we live, Rachel?"
"N'west Pot-land!" (that's NorthEAST, I told her tonight)
"What neighborhood do we live in, Rachel? Remember? IRVINGTON!"
"Irvington!" she said, pronouncing it perfectly.
Somehow, I don't worry about her ability to someday look out for herself. She's smart enough, I think.
Monday, October 4, 2010
balloons!
Every toddler loves balloons, I think. Rachel always notices them when we drive past the auto dealers on Northeast Broadway. When they're not there, she comments.
Today they were waving in the brisk fall air -- red, white and blue.
"Bye bye banoons!" she said as we drove by. "See you tomorrow!"
Today they were waving in the brisk fall air -- red, white and blue.
"Bye bye banoons!" she said as we drove by. "See you tomorrow!"
She really cares
Tonight as I was attempting to heat up dinner and feed us both quickly -- it is an unending source of frustration that by the time we leave Salem and get home and wash hands and change clothes and I get dinner on the table it is 7:45 -- Rachel kept offering things to me.
She took a green fork from the cup of baby implements and said, "for you, Mommy." (that's because she knows that green is my favorite color).
On the way home from daycare she said, "Mommy, want milk?" handing me her green cup of milk.
And toward the end of dinner she offered me her bowl of noodles.
She's either truly concerned about my welfare or worried that if she doesn't feed me, then I'll die and she'll be in deep, deep doo-doo.
She has also started to say, "I want Mommy books," earlier and earlier -- tonight it was 8 -- which is great because I get her down to sleep earlier, which means I can justify her getting up earlier -- but that means I have a kitchen of dirty dishes to clean up after she's asleep. Usually I manage to do most of the cleaning up while she's finishing dinner.
So, with that in mind, I think I'll head upstairs now. 'Night, everyone.
She took a green fork from the cup of baby implements and said, "for you, Mommy." (that's because she knows that green is my favorite color).
On the way home from daycare she said, "Mommy, want milk?" handing me her green cup of milk.
And toward the end of dinner she offered me her bowl of noodles.
She's either truly concerned about my welfare or worried that if she doesn't feed me, then I'll die and she'll be in deep, deep doo-doo.
She has also started to say, "I want Mommy books," earlier and earlier -- tonight it was 8 -- which is great because I get her down to sleep earlier, which means I can justify her getting up earlier -- but that means I have a kitchen of dirty dishes to clean up after she's asleep. Usually I manage to do most of the cleaning up while she's finishing dinner.
So, with that in mind, I think I'll head upstairs now. 'Night, everyone.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
I can't help it, she's adorable beyond words
Tonight as I was making dinner, I asked Rachel to pick out two placemats, one for her and one for Mommy.
She was carrying some counting cards. One had a picture of six ducks. She carefully laid them down on the mat under the sink and said, "I'm sorry, duckies. I have to get placemats for Mommy and me."
She then brought the placemats to the table --"one for me, one for you," then went back to the kitchen mat, picked up her cards and brought them to her place at the table and set them down.
As I was cleaning up after dinner and she was playing in the living room, she ran into the kitchen (Rachel never walks anywhere in this house, she runs), hugged my legs and then sat down, her back against the back of my legs, and did some scribbling with a brown crayon and some paper.
I tried to memorize how the weight of her little body felt against my legs and looked up and thanked heaven that I have such a wonderful little girl. I'm beginning to understand how people say this time in your kid's life is so fleeting.
She was carrying some counting cards. One had a picture of six ducks. She carefully laid them down on the mat under the sink and said, "I'm sorry, duckies. I have to get placemats for Mommy and me."
She then brought the placemats to the table --"one for me, one for you," then went back to the kitchen mat, picked up her cards and brought them to her place at the table and set them down.
As I was cleaning up after dinner and she was playing in the living room, she ran into the kitchen (Rachel never walks anywhere in this house, she runs), hugged my legs and then sat down, her back against the back of my legs, and did some scribbling with a brown crayon and some paper.
I tried to memorize how the weight of her little body felt against my legs and looked up and thanked heaven that I have such a wonderful little girl. I'm beginning to understand how people say this time in your kid's life is so fleeting.
Kids ask the darndest questions
The other day, I told Rachel about the playdates were were going to this weekend. One, yesterday, was with my friend Paige and her son Parker, who is about Rachel's age; we were joined by our friend Laura and her two kids, 3 1/2 year old Carly and 16-month-old Ren. It was a gorgeous morning, but Paige and Laura left soon after we got to Wilshire Park. I elected to keep Rachel there for about 4 hours before it was time to go home for nap and then dinner at my friend Susan's house. I'm connected to all of these people through the Oregonian.
That means the grocery shopping didn't get done until this afternoon, which was fine because it was pretty rainy. If it's not raining when Rachel wakes up from her nap, I promised her I'd take her to the playground of the Madeleine Parish, which is in within walking (and Rachey car-riding) distance from our house.
Anyway...so I was telling Rachel about the playdates and she said, "Mommy play with friends?"
I thought for a minute.
"Yes, Rachel," I said. "But I play with my friends in a different way from the way you do."
That means the grocery shopping didn't get done until this afternoon, which was fine because it was pretty rainy. If it's not raining when Rachel wakes up from her nap, I promised her I'd take her to the playground of the Madeleine Parish, which is in within walking (and Rachey car-riding) distance from our house.
Anyway...so I was telling Rachel about the playdates and she said, "Mommy play with friends?"
I thought for a minute.
"Yes, Rachel," I said. "But I play with my friends in a different way from the way you do."
It's like dating
Rachel has started to ask me questions on our car rides about what I like. A sampling from the other day:
"You like cold water?
"Yes, Rachel, I LOVE cold water."
"You like milk?"
"Yes, Rachel, I like milk."
"You like medicine?"
"Yes, Rachel, I like medicine."
"You like...soup?"
"Yes, Rachel, I like soup."
"You like...dessert?"
"Yes, Rachel, I LOVE dessert!"
A sampling from this morning as we headed to a playdate at Washington Park:
"You like my purple fleece?"
"Yes, Rachel, I LOVE your purple fleece."
"You like your green fleece?"
"Yes, Rachel, I like my green fleece." (we wore them to my friend Susan's house for dinner last night)
"You like your raincoat?"
"Yes, Rachel, I like my raincoat."
"Do you like daycare?"
"I like daycare, Rachel, as long as you're happy there."
"Not me. For you?"
"Sure, Rachel, as long as you're happy," I repeated.
Pause.
"I too old for daycare," she said.
"You like cold water?
"Yes, Rachel, I LOVE cold water."
"You like milk?"
"Yes, Rachel, I like milk."
"You like medicine?"
"Yes, Rachel, I like medicine."
"You like...soup?"
"Yes, Rachel, I like soup."
"You like...dessert?"
"Yes, Rachel, I LOVE dessert!"
A sampling from this morning as we headed to a playdate at Washington Park:
"You like my purple fleece?"
"Yes, Rachel, I LOVE your purple fleece."
"You like your green fleece?"
"Yes, Rachel, I like my green fleece." (we wore them to my friend Susan's house for dinner last night)
"You like your raincoat?"
"Yes, Rachel, I like my raincoat."
"Do you like daycare?"
"I like daycare, Rachel, as long as you're happy there."
"Not me. For you?"
"Sure, Rachel, as long as you're happy," I repeated.
Pause.
"I too old for daycare," she said.
Rachel's first (conscious) piece of artwork!
I now stock the car with two boxes of crayons, pencils and reams of construction paper to amuse Rachel when she gets bored on the drive to Salem and back.
The other day she said, "I wanna piece of paper."
"What color?" I said.
"Yeyo," she said.
As I handed it to her, she said "I draw butterfly for you."
And this was the result! I am so proud; once Drew sees it then I will hang it up in my office. That's one advantage of my new job, it comes with an office where I can display my daughter's artwork, just like every other mom in the world.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)