Drew and I got into a tremendous fight yesterday afternoon from which we are still not fully recovered. Rachel sensed my sadness as I was driving home (Drew was in Seattle visiting the Times, where he was told that the newspaper's economic outlook is dire and he'll probably have to take a furlough week next year) and she said suddenly, "Mommy, don't be sad."
Then, at dinner, I started coughing. She slid off her chair, came around the table and said, "let me give you a hug and kiss and make you feel better."
She did, and I did.
I find it astonishing that she's so attuned to our emotions, but she is, after all 2 1/2 years old as of today. So maybe I should stop thinking of her as a baby and more as a kid.
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