Our little empath, Part 2

Today was Rachel's last day in Toddlers (sniff!); tomorrow she's with the Beginners in the preschool room. I noticed they have a big tent set up in there, which hopefully will get Rachel used to the idea of camping (we already play "camping" at home; every night after she demands that I lie down so she can tickle me, Rachel then orders me to play "tent," which consists of us lying on one of her blankies and then covering ourselves up with one of her bigger blankets so that all we can see is each others' faces. Then she giggles and says, "Mommy, DON'T CLOSE YOUR EYES!").

Anyway, as I said our last goodbyes to Teacher Jennifer, she told me that the other day, one of the other girls in Toddlers hurt her fingers somehow and started crying. So Rachel walked over to her and started kissing her hands and said soothingly, "it's OK, honey!" I was AMAZED to hear that. I love the fact that we're raising a sensitive, compassionate little girl.

***

For months now I've been teaching Rachel to say as we leave school at the end of the day, "goodbye Jennifer/Lianna/Jolene! Thank you for taking care of me!" Only last week or so has she started saying it on her own without me prompting her.

Today she turned the tables on me. As I was bracing myself for the morning ritual of her crying and clutching on to me as I left, she quite cheerfully prepared to join the other toddlers at the table. Then she turned to me and said in a friendly little voice, "Goodybe! Thank you for taking care of me!"

It's nice to start the workday with a laugh.

***

Tonight we were talking about something or other and Rachel looked at me and said, "I appreciate it." I almost fell over.

***

Also tonight, I re-warmed some baked chicken that I had raided from the deep freezer (I'm trying to eat everything down before Drew gets home. Also trying to make room for some more soups and stews since the larder is empty and I need food to take us through next week, the week after and the days after we get back from NYC, before I can get to a grocery store).

"This is my favorite chicken," I told her as I cut it up in small pieces (Rachel will only eat skinless chicken, and only white meat). "It's Daddy's favorite, too. Grandma used to make this chicken for Mommy when she was little."

"Did she hold you and put you to bed?" Rachel asked.

I reeled, breathless. For a moment I couldn't answer.

"Yes," I replied. "She did."