Today was beatuiful and sunny. Drew took Rachel to the farmer's market (they came back with strawberries, the first of the season, and asparagus and other yummy things) while I putzed around at home, and then we all met downtown at 2 for "Snow White," which was performed by Northwest Children's Theater (the same group that put on "Go, Dog. Go!" that Rachel liked so much a few months ago.
I didn't much care for this version of Snow White, which was done in Japanese anime style (although it was live action). Lots of martial arts, odd-looking costumes and the 7 Dwarfs were the 7 Spirits, and the witch was evil because she had stolen the magic of a dragon that had fallen in love with her, etc. The message was that beauty is useless if it's overtaken by vanity. Snow White and Rose Red were samurai sword-fighting girls who also loved makeup, and the Mirror Mirror on the Wall was an old guy who'd been cursed years ago because he was the one in love with the Queen...or something like that. The whole thing was kind of muddled, but the costumes were great and the music pleasant, if forgettable.
The remarkable thing was that Rachel paid attention and stayed focused the entire play, which was 2 hours long (including intermission), and I think it could have been trimmed by at least 30 minutes. She sat on Drew's lap and barely made a sound until toward the very end, when she whispered that she had to go potty. Drew took her while I watched the specacular ending of the dragon making its way down the aisle and ordering the Queen to surrender her magic. This is going to be what it's like for the next few years - missing important endings to things while we take Rachel to the bathroom! Oh well.
Cute Rachel saying of the day: This morning Drew and I were talking and Rachel kept interrupting. We both admonished her, me getting down to her level at one point and telling her that she can't interrupt us when we talk. "But I want to talk!" she protested, thereby setting the terms of the debate: For us it's a matter of her learning not to be rude; for her, it's a matter of us denying her her God-given right to talk.
She pouted, then said:
"When grownups don't let little girls talk, they get VERY MAD!"
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Friday, May 27, 2011
Rachel wows 'em
I was chatting with Jenah, Rachel's teacher in Beginners, this morning. Jenah has been very solicitous of my health and seems sad to see Rachel go...she moves back to St. James next week and I promised I'd bring her to the Y to visit, maybe sometime later this summer.
"She's a smart cookie," Jenah observed. "You're a great mom!"
"Aw, thanks!" I said.
"The pre-schoolers are in AWE of her because she knows all her letters," Jenah continued. "The girl who draws Rachel pictures all the time said, 'wow, did you know that Rachel knows ALL her letters?!' Most 2-year-olds don't know their letters," she said.
And she knows the days of the week, Drew remarked when I told him this over the phone. I am so proud of my daughter!
"She's a smart cookie," Jenah observed. "You're a great mom!"
"Aw, thanks!" I said.
"The pre-schoolers are in AWE of her because she knows all her letters," Jenah continued. "The girl who draws Rachel pictures all the time said, 'wow, did you know that Rachel knows ALL her letters?!' Most 2-year-olds don't know their letters," she said.
And she knows the days of the week, Drew remarked when I told him this over the phone. I am so proud of my daughter!
Daddy's home for good!
..and I would have been posting more except that I am recovering from a week of sickness: Sore throat, massive stomach problems, inability to keep food down, laryngitis, then hives after eating at my favorite Japanese restaurant last night. It's as if my body has been waiting for Drew to get home before it could give itself permission to collapse.
Anyhow:
Rachel is very, very happy that Drew is home. He drove her to school on Wednesday while I took a sick day (first one ever in this new job) and he said she kept chanting, "Mommy, Daddy, Rachel!" and then she'd say brightly, "your turn!" and then he'd go, "Mommy, Daddy, Rachel!" It sounds insufferably cute and it probably was.
Then when they got home that night, Rachel raced into the kitchen to say hi to me. Then Drew picked her up in his arms and snuggled with her. Then she reached out to me and I snuggled, too. Then she wanted Daddy.
At dinner, she hopped off her chair and ran to Drew's leg and hugged it. Then she ran to my leg and hugged it. And so on.
As Drew says, she's OK with either of us alone but seems happiest when the whole gang is back together.
Anyhow:
Rachel is very, very happy that Drew is home. He drove her to school on Wednesday while I took a sick day (first one ever in this new job) and he said she kept chanting, "Mommy, Daddy, Rachel!" and then she'd say brightly, "your turn!" and then he'd go, "Mommy, Daddy, Rachel!" It sounds insufferably cute and it probably was.
Then when they got home that night, Rachel raced into the kitchen to say hi to me. Then Drew picked her up in his arms and snuggled with her. Then she reached out to me and I snuggled, too. Then she wanted Daddy.
At dinner, she hopped off her chair and ran to Drew's leg and hugged it. Then she ran to my leg and hugged it. And so on.
As Drew says, she's OK with either of us alone but seems happiest when the whole gang is back together.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Brunch with Peter
Rachel and I had a lovely day yesterday, the last weekend we'll have alone together before Drew gets home. We went to swim lessons and then met a former colleague of mine named Peter for brunch at a Mexican place with decent food but terrible service. It's in a cute neighborhood with interesting-looking restaurants but I will never go there again.
Peter was wildly excited to see me; he's dating the mayor of Portland and forging a successful career writing books. He expressed an eagerness to get together with me AND Rachel because his sister recently had a baby and he feels unsure of how to behave as an uncle.
Well, he shouldn't worry. He was FABULOUS with Rachel, looking her right in the eyes and knowing exactly what to say to her and how to say it. It's difficult to describe, but it was the most wonderful morning I've had in quite a while. "She's so well-behaved!' Peter said over and over, and it was true; Rachel didn't show the slightest frustration or impatience with the spacey service and didn't demand too much of my attention. Being my usually bad mommy self, I totally forgot to pack coloring books or crayons or markers, but she amused herself drinking two glasses of apple juice and sampling a bit of bread (keep in mind she'd barely had any breakfast, just a cup of yogurt, before swim lessons). She even told me when she needed to go to the potty and we visited the bathroom twice without her soiling her Pull-Up. (Apparently she has not inherited my distaste for public restrooms).
Then as we were about to leave she decided to give us all new names. I was Flower (there was a vase of fake flowers on a table near ours); Peter was bacon (because, upon realizing her distress that the restaurant didn't have bacon, he said she would get "special bacon" after our waitress offered to bring us a plate of pulled pork. Which, naturally, Rachel didn't like). And Rachel was Granola.
At one point I pulled her onto my lap and tickled her and teased her about our new names. "You two are SO ADORABLE together!" Peter chirped.
He and I agreed to meet later this summer when he'll teach me how to make jam and I'll teach him the finer points of barbecue. I had looked forward to having an uninterrupted conversation with him but maybe I'll bring Rachel along. She's entertaining and a lot of fun to be around!
Peter was wildly excited to see me; he's dating the mayor of Portland and forging a successful career writing books. He expressed an eagerness to get together with me AND Rachel because his sister recently had a baby and he feels unsure of how to behave as an uncle.
Well, he shouldn't worry. He was FABULOUS with Rachel, looking her right in the eyes and knowing exactly what to say to her and how to say it. It's difficult to describe, but it was the most wonderful morning I've had in quite a while. "She's so well-behaved!' Peter said over and over, and it was true; Rachel didn't show the slightest frustration or impatience with the spacey service and didn't demand too much of my attention. Being my usually bad mommy self, I totally forgot to pack coloring books or crayons or markers, but she amused herself drinking two glasses of apple juice and sampling a bit of bread (keep in mind she'd barely had any breakfast, just a cup of yogurt, before swim lessons). She even told me when she needed to go to the potty and we visited the bathroom twice without her soiling her Pull-Up. (Apparently she has not inherited my distaste for public restrooms).
Then as we were about to leave she decided to give us all new names. I was Flower (there was a vase of fake flowers on a table near ours); Peter was bacon (because, upon realizing her distress that the restaurant didn't have bacon, he said she would get "special bacon" after our waitress offered to bring us a plate of pulled pork. Which, naturally, Rachel didn't like). And Rachel was Granola.
At one point I pulled her onto my lap and tickled her and teased her about our new names. "You two are SO ADORABLE together!" Peter chirped.
He and I agreed to meet later this summer when he'll teach me how to make jam and I'll teach him the finer points of barbecue. I had looked forward to having an uninterrupted conversation with him but maybe I'll bring Rachel along. She's entertaining and a lot of fun to be around!
Mommy's sick
..it's as if my body senses that Drew will be home soon (Tuesday, if he encounters no significant obstacles) and has decided that this is a perfect time for it to collapse on me. My voice is nearly gone, my muscles feel achy and I'm generally exhausted. And freezing, probably because the nice weather we had the other day is now turning cool and rainy.
I tried to tell this to Rachel today and she immediately told me she was getting a cold, too. Then she did the most extraordinary thing -- I was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping tea and trying to force myself to eat some breakfast when she said, "I'm going to get your medicine, Mommy!' "MmmMmmm," I mumbled in reply, and in a minute she was back HOLDING A BUNCH OF DAYQUIL CAPSULES IN HER LITTLE HANDS. I have no idea how she knew where to find them and the fact that she remembered what color they were.
I was speechless and almost started to cry.
"THANK YOU, Rachel!" I said. "That was so nice of you. Mommy is very grateful."
***
Rachel impressed me this morning by getting her socks and shoes on all by herself.
"Geez, Rachel, do you even need me to take care of you anymore?" I said sadly.
"NO," she replied firmly.
"Well, I'm going to need you to take care of me when I'm old," I said.
She looked at me.
"Sylvie taked care of you when you were little," she said patiently.
"Um, yes, that's true," I said, astonished.
"Sylvie can take care of you when you're old," she finished.
"I don't think so, sweetie," I said.
Then she paused.
"D will take care of you!" she concluded. ("D" is her current name for Daddy).
***
We have a little car with a mommy in it and a baby in a car seat that Linda gave us and that Rachel still likes to play with occasionally. Today she played with it in the kitchen and took the baby out of the car.
"The baby's name is SYLVIE!" she exclaimed.
Mom...I think Sylvie will be your great-granddaughter's name!
I tried to tell this to Rachel today and she immediately told me she was getting a cold, too. Then she did the most extraordinary thing -- I was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping tea and trying to force myself to eat some breakfast when she said, "I'm going to get your medicine, Mommy!' "MmmMmmm," I mumbled in reply, and in a minute she was back HOLDING A BUNCH OF DAYQUIL CAPSULES IN HER LITTLE HANDS. I have no idea how she knew where to find them and the fact that she remembered what color they were.
I was speechless and almost started to cry.
"THANK YOU, Rachel!" I said. "That was so nice of you. Mommy is very grateful."
***
Rachel impressed me this morning by getting her socks and shoes on all by herself.
"Geez, Rachel, do you even need me to take care of you anymore?" I said sadly.
"NO," she replied firmly.
"Well, I'm going to need you to take care of me when I'm old," I said.
She looked at me.
"Sylvie taked care of you when you were little," she said patiently.
"Um, yes, that's true," I said, astonished.
"Sylvie can take care of you when you're old," she finished.
"I don't think so, sweetie," I said.
Then she paused.
"D will take care of you!" she concluded. ("D" is her current name for Daddy).
***
We have a little car with a mommy in it and a baby in a car seat that Linda gave us and that Rachel still likes to play with occasionally. Today she played with it in the kitchen and took the baby out of the car.
"The baby's name is SYLVIE!" she exclaimed.
Mom...I think Sylvie will be your great-granddaughter's name!
Friday, May 20, 2011
More kudos for Rachel
Last night there was a board meeting of the Oregon Area Jewish Committee, of which I'm a member. The organization promotes Jewish life and interfaith understanding throughout Oregon and I'm glad I'm able to be a part of it, although it has been a real hassle getting to board meetings without Drew as a backup.
I've skipped the 6 p.m. board meetings at our synagogue, but last night I decided to go, if only to announce to everyone that I'll be a more participatory member now that Drew will be back (as of Tuesday! Yay!). I planned very carefully for the meeting: Loaded Rachel's diaper bag with snacks and a bag of toys, picked her up from daycare early and was only 15 minutes late (Portland summer traffic, ugh).
Rachel was a real trooper. She played with her blocks, colored a bit, then helped herself to the dried cranberries and nuts that were provided as snacks (plus cookies; I was a bad mommy and let her have 3 small chocolate-chip ones, but it was better than her throwing a tantrum in public). I kept whispering to her that she had to be quiet while Mommy listened to the people talking and she followed those directions to a T -- even when she very politely asked me to take her to the bathroom twice (and she had a dry Pull-Up last night AND today).
At the end of the meeting, a guy named Bob came up to me and said, "Your daughter is adorable and VERY well-behaved. How old is she?"
"Two and a half," I said. "She'll be 3 in July."
"Well, I have a granddaughter about her age," Bob said, "and there is NO WAY she would have been able to sit still for this long. She'd be dancing on the table!" I thanked him profusely, of course.
On the way home, Rachel insisted on calling Drew and giving him an account of the evening. After she hung up, she told me proudly: "I was very quiet and very behaved." Yes, sweetie, you were! Thank you!
I've skipped the 6 p.m. board meetings at our synagogue, but last night I decided to go, if only to announce to everyone that I'll be a more participatory member now that Drew will be back (as of Tuesday! Yay!). I planned very carefully for the meeting: Loaded Rachel's diaper bag with snacks and a bag of toys, picked her up from daycare early and was only 15 minutes late (Portland summer traffic, ugh).
Rachel was a real trooper. She played with her blocks, colored a bit, then helped herself to the dried cranberries and nuts that were provided as snacks (plus cookies; I was a bad mommy and let her have 3 small chocolate-chip ones, but it was better than her throwing a tantrum in public). I kept whispering to her that she had to be quiet while Mommy listened to the people talking and she followed those directions to a T -- even when she very politely asked me to take her to the bathroom twice (and she had a dry Pull-Up last night AND today).
At the end of the meeting, a guy named Bob came up to me and said, "Your daughter is adorable and VERY well-behaved. How old is she?"
"Two and a half," I said. "She'll be 3 in July."
"Well, I have a granddaughter about her age," Bob said, "and there is NO WAY she would have been able to sit still for this long. She'd be dancing on the table!" I thanked him profusely, of course.
On the way home, Rachel insisted on calling Drew and giving him an account of the evening. After she hung up, she told me proudly: "I was very quiet and very behaved." Yes, sweetie, you were! Thank you!
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
This kind of makes up for the screaming tantrums
..as I was pulling the blankets over her tonight (after we failed to find her miniature Teddy bear and Rachel showed remarkable good humor by saying, "I'll just have to make do with Bunny"):
"Thank you, Mommy. Thank you for tucking me in."
***
Rachel has now started asking what people's REAL names are -- Mommy (Lisa), Daddy (Drew), Grandma (Sylvie), etc.
Today on the way home from work and school, apropos of nothing, she announced:
"Sylvie. That's a great name."
***
Yesterday Rachel asked me to sing Clementine for the 3,897th time (well, it feels like that, anyway!)
"Mommy, you have a great voice!" she said encouragingly.
That's enough incentive to get me back to chorus as soon as Drew gets home!
"Thank you, Mommy. Thank you for tucking me in."
***
Rachel has now started asking what people's REAL names are -- Mommy (Lisa), Daddy (Drew), Grandma (Sylvie), etc.
Today on the way home from work and school, apropos of nothing, she announced:
"Sylvie. That's a great name."
***
Yesterday Rachel asked me to sing Clementine for the 3,897th time (well, it feels like that, anyway!)
"Mommy, you have a great voice!" she said encouragingly.
That's enough incentive to get me back to chorus as soon as Drew gets home!
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Rachel has a new name!
Rachel informed me tonight that her new name is "R." That means she no longer answers to Rachel, Rach, Sweetie, Honey, etc.
She is very insistent on this point, so I advise all of you out there to follow this directive if you want her to pay attention to what you're saying or what you want her to do.
So, Mom and Dad, I now have a taste of what you went through all those years when Daniella and I insisted on being called boys' names and Daniella embarrassed you at Jones Beach when she informed a group of people that, "My real name is Daniella but my parents INSIST on calling me Russell." HAHAHAHAHA! I bet it didn't seem so funny back then, did it??
***
Rachel continues to have a great time in the pool, and I think she's developed a mad crush on Katherine, her teacher, who has pale skin, freckles, blue eyes and long red hair. Rachel always wants to be near her in the pool and frequently talks about her during the week.
Rachel blew great bubbles today and didn't even cry when her eyes accidentally hit the water; she just brushed the water out of them and resumed playing. Instead of hurrying her out, I took her to the shallow end where she practiced holding on to the edge and walking across the bottom of the pool. A light suddenly went off and I realized we can come to the pool anytime we want, not just during swim lessons, so I suggested that she and I come back during recreational time. She enthusiastically seconded that idea, and I bet she'll learn to swim faster the more practice I give her!
After lessons we had a playdate at my friend Amy's house, then rushed to pick up dry cleaning and get groceries. Result: It was 5 when we got home and I was desperate to give her a nap before the sleep window closed. I was at the kitchen sink frantically trying to clean up from breakfast and unload the groceries when I heard her say, "Mommy, are you happy?"
"Yes," I grunted, not really paying attention.
"Smile, Mommy!" Rachel exclaimed. "I love it when you smile!"
I started laughing.
"OK, Rachel, you win!" I said, instantly cheering up.
She is very insistent on this point, so I advise all of you out there to follow this directive if you want her to pay attention to what you're saying or what you want her to do.
So, Mom and Dad, I now have a taste of what you went through all those years when Daniella and I insisted on being called boys' names and Daniella embarrassed you at Jones Beach when she informed a group of people that, "My real name is Daniella but my parents INSIST on calling me Russell." HAHAHAHAHA! I bet it didn't seem so funny back then, did it??
***
Rachel continues to have a great time in the pool, and I think she's developed a mad crush on Katherine, her teacher, who has pale skin, freckles, blue eyes and long red hair. Rachel always wants to be near her in the pool and frequently talks about her during the week.
Rachel blew great bubbles today and didn't even cry when her eyes accidentally hit the water; she just brushed the water out of them and resumed playing. Instead of hurrying her out, I took her to the shallow end where she practiced holding on to the edge and walking across the bottom of the pool. A light suddenly went off and I realized we can come to the pool anytime we want, not just during swim lessons, so I suggested that she and I come back during recreational time. She enthusiastically seconded that idea, and I bet she'll learn to swim faster the more practice I give her!
After lessons we had a playdate at my friend Amy's house, then rushed to pick up dry cleaning and get groceries. Result: It was 5 when we got home and I was desperate to give her a nap before the sleep window closed. I was at the kitchen sink frantically trying to clean up from breakfast and unload the groceries when I heard her say, "Mommy, are you happy?"
"Yes," I grunted, not really paying attention.
"Smile, Mommy!" Rachel exclaimed. "I love it when you smile!"
I started laughing.
"OK, Rachel, you win!" I said, instantly cheering up.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Vocabulary
Not only is Rachel amassing words at a very fast clip...the words are pretty sophisticated (yes, this is the kid we worried would never talk much; we had her evaluated at 20 months and the docs told us NOT TO WORRY. They were right!).
"The lights are turning green!" she said yesterday as we were on the final stretch to work, several traffic lights in front of us. "Oh my gosh! That's amazing!"
***
Tonight she mentioned cousin Valerie:
"Apparently Valerie has an airplane," Rachel announced. "That's so cute."
"The lights are turning green!" she said yesterday as we were on the final stretch to work, several traffic lights in front of us. "Oh my gosh! That's amazing!"
***
Tonight she mentioned cousin Valerie:
"Apparently Valerie has an airplane," Rachel announced. "That's so cute."
More Rachel
Two nights ago we were at the dinner table and, apropos of nothing, Rachel suddenly said this:
"No, no, no, no throwing food."
I started laughing. "OK," I replied. "I wouldn't even THINK of it."
"No throwing a fit, either," she added sternly. "I don't like it when you throw temper tantrums."
Yes, living with a toddler is like living in an alternate universe. Correction: It IS an alternate universe.
***
Rachel is bringing more and more songs home from school and she's also substituting her own words in familiar tunes. Yesterday on the way to work she sang:
Patty-cake, patty-cake, baker's man
Bake me a cake as fast as you can
Roll it and pat it, and mark it with an 'R,"
And put it in the oven for Mommy and Daddy and Rachel and me!
Tonight the song was a version of a song at school: Rachel has a white shirt, white shirt, white shirt/Rachel has a white shirt/all day long."
We decided that:
Daddy has a green shirt
Grandma has a white shirt
Grandpa has a blue shirt
Mommy has gray pants (I wore gray jeans to work today)
She also had shirts for Abby Cadaby, Bob and Delly but I forget what they were.
***
Yesterday morning we hit the mother of all traffic jams on I-5 south; construction (I think) had closed two lanes. I fumed and worried (even though I had no appointments in Salem that morning) but kept my temper. Somehow Rachel and I got onto the following discussion track:
"I'm not going away!" Rachel insisted.
"Promise?" I said.
"No!" Rachel repeated.
"Someday you may want to go away to college," I said.
"No!" Rachel said.
Pause.
"I want Mommy to take me to college," she said.
Pause.
"How 'bout Mommy and Daddy and Abby Cadaby and Bob and Delly take me to college?"
Sure, Rachel -- we'll all pile into the SUV and have a grand old time driving you to Stanford!
***
We were reading a book version of "Sunrise Sunset," and Rachel amazed me by saying, a page before the wedding scene, "They're getting married?"
"How did you KNOW that, Rachel?" I said, stunned. (We hadn't read the book in many weeks).
She smiled. I was filled with warm, tender feelings of my smart little girl getting married one day, watching her under the canopy, trying not to cry...when she saw the picture of the couple with their baby. She started making munching noises and grabbed the page with her teeth.
"I want to EAT the baby!" she exclaimed. "The baby is a TOMATO!"
***
Break my heart: In the car yesterday Rachel asked plaintively, "When I cry, can you be a little patient with me and not say 'shhh?'"
Of course, honey. You're obviously the better human being of both of us!
***
"When I grow up, I'm gonna be a mommy and YOU'RE gonna be a mommy!" Rachel exclaimed. Then she asked forlornly a couple minutes later, "Mommy, can you have another baby?"
"No, no, no, no throwing food."
I started laughing. "OK," I replied. "I wouldn't even THINK of it."
"No throwing a fit, either," she added sternly. "I don't like it when you throw temper tantrums."
Yes, living with a toddler is like living in an alternate universe. Correction: It IS an alternate universe.
***
Rachel is bringing more and more songs home from school and she's also substituting her own words in familiar tunes. Yesterday on the way to work she sang:
Patty-cake, patty-cake, baker's man
Bake me a cake as fast as you can
Roll it and pat it, and mark it with an 'R,"
And put it in the oven for Mommy and Daddy and Rachel and me!
Tonight the song was a version of a song at school: Rachel has a white shirt, white shirt, white shirt/Rachel has a white shirt/all day long."
We decided that:
Daddy has a green shirt
Grandma has a white shirt
Grandpa has a blue shirt
Mommy has gray pants (I wore gray jeans to work today)
She also had shirts for Abby Cadaby, Bob and Delly but I forget what they were.
***
Yesterday morning we hit the mother of all traffic jams on I-5 south; construction (I think) had closed two lanes. I fumed and worried (even though I had no appointments in Salem that morning) but kept my temper. Somehow Rachel and I got onto the following discussion track:
"I'm not going away!" Rachel insisted.
"Promise?" I said.
"No!" Rachel repeated.
"Someday you may want to go away to college," I said.
"No!" Rachel said.
Pause.
"I want Mommy to take me to college," she said.
Pause.
"How 'bout Mommy and Daddy and Abby Cadaby and Bob and Delly take me to college?"
Sure, Rachel -- we'll all pile into the SUV and have a grand old time driving you to Stanford!
***
We were reading a book version of "Sunrise Sunset," and Rachel amazed me by saying, a page before the wedding scene, "They're getting married?"
"How did you KNOW that, Rachel?" I said, stunned. (We hadn't read the book in many weeks).
She smiled. I was filled with warm, tender feelings of my smart little girl getting married one day, watching her under the canopy, trying not to cry...when she saw the picture of the couple with their baby. She started making munching noises and grabbed the page with her teeth.
"I want to EAT the baby!" she exclaimed. "The baby is a TOMATO!"
***
Break my heart: In the car yesterday Rachel asked plaintively, "When I cry, can you be a little patient with me and not say 'shhh?'"
Of course, honey. You're obviously the better human being of both of us!
***
"When I grow up, I'm gonna be a mommy and YOU'RE gonna be a mommy!" Rachel exclaimed. Then she asked forlornly a couple minutes later, "Mommy, can you have another baby?"
Catching up...
aSorry I've been out of pocket the last few days. Blogger was down last night and I've been busy producing a video testimonial for the dean of the law school, who is stepping down. It was shown at a dinner last night and the response was amazing -- he wiped tears from his eyes, other members of the audience were sniffling; the assistant dean (and soon-to-be new boss of mine) made a point of introducing me as the video producer. "We thought we hired a writer; turns out we hired a video producer!" he exclaimed. This morning we got a request to screen the video AGAIN for the entire Willamette University Board of Trustees meeting tomorrow.
So, basically, I am a ROCK STAR at work.
But this blog is about Rachel, right? Here are some cute things she's said the last two days or so:
On the way to and from Salem these last few days, Rachel has been throwing temper tantrums and I've yelled at her (yes, gotta work on that). Here's what she said, apropos of nothing, on the way to work on Wednesday:
"I don't like you when you scream at me. "I love you so, so much. That's not OK. You're not a baby; you're a mommy. Mommies don't yell."
***
We were talking about work and school, and Rachel informed me she has a job.
"What's your job, sweetie?" I said.
"My job is cleaning the house," she announced. (The feminist in me winced. Is this all she sees me as? Someone who cleans the house all the time?) "And I eat a bagel for lunch and I eat French fries for lunch and cheddar bunnies and chocolate chips. My work is all that stuff, and I got on the school bus."
***
I'm learning more and more about the house Rachel shares with Abby Cadaby, Bob and Delly. It's brown. They have a multicolored car -- purple seats, brown doors (I'm not even going to get into the imagery that leaves me with, yech).
"We have four chairs," she said. "I put them to bed very early. I wake them up late, like at 9."
***
"Mommy, I wanna tell you a question," she said last night. "Can Abby Cadaby and Bob and Delly go in the pool?"
"That's a lot of babies in the pool, Rachel," I replied. "Who's going to hold the babies?"
"Grandma can hold Abby Cadaby," she said. "And Grandpa can hold Delly, and Daddy can hold Bob."
Grandma & Grandpa, are you up for this?
So, basically, I am a ROCK STAR at work.
But this blog is about Rachel, right? Here are some cute things she's said the last two days or so:
On the way to and from Salem these last few days, Rachel has been throwing temper tantrums and I've yelled at her (yes, gotta work on that). Here's what she said, apropos of nothing, on the way to work on Wednesday:
"I don't like you when you scream at me. "I love you so, so much. That's not OK. You're not a baby; you're a mommy. Mommies don't yell."
***
We were talking about work and school, and Rachel informed me she has a job.
"What's your job, sweetie?" I said.
"My job is cleaning the house," she announced. (The feminist in me winced. Is this all she sees me as? Someone who cleans the house all the time?) "And I eat a bagel for lunch and I eat French fries for lunch and cheddar bunnies and chocolate chips. My work is all that stuff, and I got on the school bus."
***
I'm learning more and more about the house Rachel shares with Abby Cadaby, Bob and Delly. It's brown. They have a multicolored car -- purple seats, brown doors (I'm not even going to get into the imagery that leaves me with, yech).
"We have four chairs," she said. "I put them to bed very early. I wake them up late, like at 9."
***
"Mommy, I wanna tell you a question," she said last night. "Can Abby Cadaby and Bob and Delly go in the pool?"
"That's a lot of babies in the pool, Rachel," I replied. "Who's going to hold the babies?"
"Grandma can hold Abby Cadaby," she said. "And Grandpa can hold Delly, and Daddy can hold Bob."
Grandma & Grandpa, are you up for this?
Monday, May 9, 2011
More cute Rachel sayings
Tonight I must have knocked something over by accident. Rachel had this comment:
"When mommies knock things over, mommies get frustrated. I get frustrated too, because I'm a mommy!' (for those keeping score at home, Rachel's children are Abby Cadaby, Bob and Delly).
***
On the way home from work, Rachel suddenly mentioned "red bell peppers, yellow bell peppers, orange bell peppers!" (I always identify them at the grocery store so now she knows what they are).
"And green bell peppers," I added.
"Any more colors?" she asked.
"I think there may be purple bell peppers," I said. "But I'm not sure."
"Purple bell peppers?" she repeated. "That's kind of amazing."
(Yes, she's not yet 3!)
***
As she was clearing the table tonight, Rachel took note of my empty salad bowl.
"Good job on eating all your salad, Mommy!" she said encouragingly. "You'll be a big girl soon, just like me!"
"When mommies knock things over, mommies get frustrated. I get frustrated too, because I'm a mommy!' (for those keeping score at home, Rachel's children are Abby Cadaby, Bob and Delly).
***
On the way home from work, Rachel suddenly mentioned "red bell peppers, yellow bell peppers, orange bell peppers!" (I always identify them at the grocery store so now she knows what they are).
"And green bell peppers," I added.
"Any more colors?" she asked.
"I think there may be purple bell peppers," I said. "But I'm not sure."
"Purple bell peppers?" she repeated. "That's kind of amazing."
(Yes, she's not yet 3!)
***
As she was clearing the table tonight, Rachel took note of my empty salad bowl.
"Good job on eating all your salad, Mommy!" she said encouragingly. "You'll be a big girl soon, just like me!"
Happy Mother's Day!
That's what Rachel said to me from her crib yesterday morning when I reminded her, "Do you know what day it is?" Her sweet little exclamation warmed my heart.
I took her to the haircut place that Drew always takes her to, and her hair is now short. I finally figured out how to put toddler barrettes in her hair and she looked adorable, but I still don't like the way they cut her hair. Instead of looking little and cute, she looks like a girl who's trying to look like a boy, if that makes any sense. May try to explore a new place when Drew gets back.
We went grocery shopping afterward and the bad temper returned, probably because she wanted more potato chip samples than Mommy was willing to give her. I was feeling stressed at the checkout line when the checkout lady, who had been observing Rachel after Rachel's friendly greeting, said, "How old is she? She's really smart. Do people tell you that?"
I mumbled a thank-you, so anxious to get out of Fred Meyer and home for a nap that I didn't appreciate the comment for what it was. I need to return and say thank you.
Rachel slept a long time. I woke her for dinner, then stayed up way too late getting everything ready for today and making a big lunch salad to last me the whole week. Collapsed into bed at midnight. Ready for Drew to come home and give me some help around here.
I took her to the haircut place that Drew always takes her to, and her hair is now short. I finally figured out how to put toddler barrettes in her hair and she looked adorable, but I still don't like the way they cut her hair. Instead of looking little and cute, she looks like a girl who's trying to look like a boy, if that makes any sense. May try to explore a new place when Drew gets back.
We went grocery shopping afterward and the bad temper returned, probably because she wanted more potato chip samples than Mommy was willing to give her. I was feeling stressed at the checkout line when the checkout lady, who had been observing Rachel after Rachel's friendly greeting, said, "How old is she? She's really smart. Do people tell you that?"
I mumbled a thank-you, so anxious to get out of Fred Meyer and home for a nap that I didn't appreciate the comment for what it was. I need to return and say thank you.
Rachel slept a long time. I woke her for dinner, then stayed up way too late getting everything ready for today and making a big lunch salad to last me the whole week. Collapsed into bed at midnight. Ready for Drew to come home and give me some help around here.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Major meltdowns
Looks like Rachel got the manual on turning 3 about two months early. She was a whiny, irritating little sh-- today at the Children's Museum, highly embarrassing me in front of Linda and her angelic daughter Devin, who is a week younger than Rachel. Although Linda, to her credit, told me Devin's good behavior was just a public front; she's impossible in private.
Rachel whined and yelled when we tried to leave one room to go to another. She whined and yelled when other kids wanted to play with toys she wanted to play with. At one point she hit my chest and I had to say sternly, "DON'T HIT MOMMY. DON'T EVER HIT MOMMY." She whined and yelled so much at one point -- she actually lay down on the concrete floor to have a full-blown temper tantrum -- that we nearly left for good. "I'll stay with your stuff," Linda said hurriedly as I marched Rachel outside and told her she couldn't scream and yell inside.
Well, of course she did right at the time we were getting ready to leave. I had to stop at Aveda to buy some fragrance for my friend Rachel, in Africa, and as I headed out of the parking lot of the museum I realized I had no idea where my cell phone was, and as I became more frantic looking for it I had less and less patience with Rachel's sobbing -- really, a whole day of her being whiny -- and so finally I pulled into a service driveway at the musem, stopped the car, turned to her in the back and yelled, "SHUT UP!"
See why I'm not going to win any parenting awards today?
About five seconds later I found my cell phone. Then I heard a little voice say quietly, "I love you, Mommy," and I could hear the appeal in Rachel's voice, wondering if Mommy still loved her. I crawled into the seat next to her, said, "I love you too, Rachel. Wanna go home and cuddle? And I'll give you cheddar bunnies..."
"And chocolate goldfish," she sniffled.
"And Teddy grahams," I finished.
Her little tear-stained face nearly broke my heart.
As soon as we started driving, she nodded off. We got to Aveda, I woke her up and she was fine. I fell asleep as I rocked her in the glider before her nap, then we had dinner, and I put her to bed around 9. An hour later she woke up and insisted she wasn't sleepy. She also had another nightmare involving her baby doll -- it was trying to climb back into her stomach.
"Play with me!' she ordered. (That's another annoying habit of hers that I am trying to nip in the bud -- ordering me around like a servant. Reinforces for me why I absolutely hate ill-mannered, bossy children).
"No, Rachel," I explained. "You need to go to sleep because Mommy needs to go to sleep. Mommy's tired."
I made a big ceremony of removing baby doll from her crib and put her to bed.
At least she said, "I love you," as I shut the door. What a day.
Rachel whined and yelled when we tried to leave one room to go to another. She whined and yelled when other kids wanted to play with toys she wanted to play with. At one point she hit my chest and I had to say sternly, "DON'T HIT MOMMY. DON'T EVER HIT MOMMY." She whined and yelled so much at one point -- she actually lay down on the concrete floor to have a full-blown temper tantrum -- that we nearly left for good. "I'll stay with your stuff," Linda said hurriedly as I marched Rachel outside and told her she couldn't scream and yell inside.
Well, of course she did right at the time we were getting ready to leave. I had to stop at Aveda to buy some fragrance for my friend Rachel, in Africa, and as I headed out of the parking lot of the museum I realized I had no idea where my cell phone was, and as I became more frantic looking for it I had less and less patience with Rachel's sobbing -- really, a whole day of her being whiny -- and so finally I pulled into a service driveway at the musem, stopped the car, turned to her in the back and yelled, "SHUT UP!"
See why I'm not going to win any parenting awards today?
About five seconds later I found my cell phone. Then I heard a little voice say quietly, "I love you, Mommy," and I could hear the appeal in Rachel's voice, wondering if Mommy still loved her. I crawled into the seat next to her, said, "I love you too, Rachel. Wanna go home and cuddle? And I'll give you cheddar bunnies..."
"And chocolate goldfish," she sniffled.
"And Teddy grahams," I finished.
Her little tear-stained face nearly broke my heart.
As soon as we started driving, she nodded off. We got to Aveda, I woke her up and she was fine. I fell asleep as I rocked her in the glider before her nap, then we had dinner, and I put her to bed around 9. An hour later she woke up and insisted she wasn't sleepy. She also had another nightmare involving her baby doll -- it was trying to climb back into her stomach.
"Play with me!' she ordered. (That's another annoying habit of hers that I am trying to nip in the bud -- ordering me around like a servant. Reinforces for me why I absolutely hate ill-mannered, bossy children).
"No, Rachel," I explained. "You need to go to sleep because Mommy needs to go to sleep. Mommy's tired."
I made a big ceremony of removing baby doll from her crib and put her to bed.
At least she said, "I love you," as I shut the door. What a day.
Friday, May 6, 2011
Temper tantrum city
Rachel has about one a day. They're maddening, especially because in just over two weeks Drew will be home and he can help me deal with this delightful (ugh) phase of parenting. But until then, I'm on my own.
The other day on the way to school/work, Rachel was trying to get me to understand something she was saying and I just couldn't. Her reaction: "I'm NOT HAPPY with you! Because I'm FRUSTRATED!"
***
More about all her vehicles: Today on the way to school/work, Rachel said, "I need to clean my fire truck, but not my school bus. I'm going to take my babies to school. They're very quiet." (Her kids, by the way, are Abby Cadaby, Bob and Delly. Sometimes they're toddlers, sometimes they're babies. It depends on Rachel's moods).
***
Tonight she got angry when I wouldn't let her stay at school (the teachers were closing up the building and we had to go) and she started whining and crying on the way home. It was raining and cold outside, so she fell asleep. I got to have a blessed 25 minutes to catch up with Drew on his day, and then Rachel woke up and started crying. And crying. And crying. And crying. I held my temper for as long as I could and then partially turned my head and shouted at the top of my lungs, "ENOUGH!" Her whole body jumped and she started crying harder, but then the tears quickly subsided.
I calmed myself down and said, "Rachel, do you want to cuddle when we get home?"
"Yes," she blubbered.
She was crying again as we pulled into the garage and I silently took everything out of the car before coming to get her (I got the mail and read part of the New Yorker to calm myself down even more). We walked into the kitchen, Rachel clutching her blankie from school, and she wrapped her arms around my leg and leaned her tear-stained face on me. Without a word, I picked her up, took her to the glider into the bedroom, and held her tight while I covered her with the blanket.
Ten minutes later, she was fine. We had a nice Shabbat dinner, with her repeating the blessing after me and eating two jars of sweet potatoes and some chicken from the pot of matzo ball soup I made last week. Bedtime went off without a hitch.
The other day on the way to school/work, Rachel was trying to get me to understand something she was saying and I just couldn't. Her reaction: "I'm NOT HAPPY with you! Because I'm FRUSTRATED!"
***
More about all her vehicles: Today on the way to school/work, Rachel said, "I need to clean my fire truck, but not my school bus. I'm going to take my babies to school. They're very quiet." (Her kids, by the way, are Abby Cadaby, Bob and Delly. Sometimes they're toddlers, sometimes they're babies. It depends on Rachel's moods).
***
Tonight she got angry when I wouldn't let her stay at school (the teachers were closing up the building and we had to go) and she started whining and crying on the way home. It was raining and cold outside, so she fell asleep. I got to have a blessed 25 minutes to catch up with Drew on his day, and then Rachel woke up and started crying. And crying. And crying. And crying. I held my temper for as long as I could and then partially turned my head and shouted at the top of my lungs, "ENOUGH!" Her whole body jumped and she started crying harder, but then the tears quickly subsided.
I calmed myself down and said, "Rachel, do you want to cuddle when we get home?"
"Yes," she blubbered.
She was crying again as we pulled into the garage and I silently took everything out of the car before coming to get her (I got the mail and read part of the New Yorker to calm myself down even more). We walked into the kitchen, Rachel clutching her blankie from school, and she wrapped her arms around my leg and leaned her tear-stained face on me. Without a word, I picked her up, took her to the glider into the bedroom, and held her tight while I covered her with the blanket.
Ten minutes later, she was fine. We had a nice Shabbat dinner, with her repeating the blessing after me and eating two jars of sweet potatoes and some chicken from the pot of matzo ball soup I made last week. Bedtime went off without a hitch.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Mommy gets quite a scolding
Last night Rachel said she wanted to stay in the car seat while I unloaded our stuff when we got home (a job that usually takes a trip or two. Thank heaven for attached garages!). When I got back she was yelling at me to take her out.
"My Beginners (she is in the Beginners track at pre-school) wouldn't leave their friends in the car," she said accusingly. "They'd get them out. You're the ONLY ONE who didn't!"
Somewhat taken aback, I apologized. For what, I don't really know. But it seemed to calm her down.
***
Rachel and Delly have acquired quite the fleet of vehicles for their house. Rachel ticked them off on the way to school and work this morning:
"Mommy, there's a fire truck in the garage, and an airplane, and a garbage truck and a school bus and an ambulance and a police car."
"Rachel, that's a lot of things to fit in the garage!" I exclaimed.
"You move them a little closer so they won't come out," she explained. Makes perfect sense.
"My Beginners (she is in the Beginners track at pre-school) wouldn't leave their friends in the car," she said accusingly. "They'd get them out. You're the ONLY ONE who didn't!"
Somewhat taken aback, I apologized. For what, I don't really know. But it seemed to calm her down.
***
Rachel and Delly have acquired quite the fleet of vehicles for their house. Rachel ticked them off on the way to school and work this morning:
"Mommy, there's a fire truck in the garage, and an airplane, and a garbage truck and a school bus and an ambulance and a police car."
"Rachel, that's a lot of things to fit in the garage!" I exclaimed.
"You move them a little closer so they won't come out," she explained. Makes perfect sense.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Little Bunny Foo-foo, Part 2
Well, Rachel can't seem to get over this song. So I asked Jolene, her teacher, about it. The words go:
Little Bunny foo-foo
hopping through the forest
scooping up the field mice
and bopping on the head
(spoken)
Down comes the good fairy and she said,
Little Bunny foo-foo
hopping through the forest
scooping up the field mice
and bopping on the head
(spoken)
I'll give you THREE CHANCES and if you don't behave, then I'll turn you into a goon. Poof!
(song repeats three more times)
I still can't believe it's the same song I sang as a kid!
***
While I was driving home from work today I mentioned to Drew that I'm trying to arrange a get-together on Sunday with a couple who is childless, since all my mom friends are celebrating Mother's Day and that I'm going to feel kind of lonely.
Rachel piped up from the back seat: "I'M going to say 'Happy Mother's Day!'"
I almost stopped the car, got out and hugged her. What a sweet little girl!
***
I'm trying to arrange a babysitter in Salem to go to dinner tomorrow with a former colleague at the Oregonian, but it probably won't happen. Nevertheless, I told Rachel it was a possibility.
"What am I gonna play with?" she asked plaintively. "'Cuz I'll be very lonely."
***
As we were driving down Weidler Avenue tonight, Rachel pointed out an imaginary sign and said sternly, "That sign says NO SINGING IN THE CAR."
And then as we passed a 7-11, she pointed to it and said, "That green sign says no singing in the car."
Pause.
"Also, it says the people are sick."
Little Bunny foo-foo
hopping through the forest
scooping up the field mice
and bopping on the head
(spoken)
Down comes the good fairy and she said,
Little Bunny foo-foo
hopping through the forest
scooping up the field mice
and bopping on the head
(spoken)
I'll give you THREE CHANCES and if you don't behave, then I'll turn you into a goon. Poof!
(song repeats three more times)
I still can't believe it's the same song I sang as a kid!
***
While I was driving home from work today I mentioned to Drew that I'm trying to arrange a get-together on Sunday with a couple who is childless, since all my mom friends are celebrating Mother's Day and that I'm going to feel kind of lonely.
Rachel piped up from the back seat: "I'M going to say 'Happy Mother's Day!'"
I almost stopped the car, got out and hugged her. What a sweet little girl!
***
I'm trying to arrange a babysitter in Salem to go to dinner tomorrow with a former colleague at the Oregonian, but it probably won't happen. Nevertheless, I told Rachel it was a possibility.
"What am I gonna play with?" she asked plaintively. "'Cuz I'll be very lonely."
***
As we were driving down Weidler Avenue tonight, Rachel pointed out an imaginary sign and said sternly, "That sign says NO SINGING IN THE CAR."
And then as we passed a 7-11, she pointed to it and said, "That green sign says no singing in the car."
Pause.
"Also, it says the people are sick."
Sunday, May 1, 2011
May Day!
This post will be short, since my night was interrupted at 9:20 p.m. by a call from my friend David Jones, who informed me that Osama bin Laden is DEAD and that crowds were gathering around the White House. I couldn't help thinking back to 9-11 and the essay I wrote for the Oregonian's editorial page, and the reaction it got, and the fact that, 10 years ago, I was still a journalist. So where will I be in another 10 years? Still trying to figure out a way to get back into daily journalism?
But I digress.
Rachel and I had a wonderful time at the zoo with Julie today. We lucked into seeing one of the elephant trainers with one of the elephants, and got to watch the elephant eat, another elephant splash him/herself with water, and just watch them being, well, elephants. Rachel was enchanted and enchanting, letting Julie lift her up and hold her arond the waist while she just watched, fascinated. Yes, I got pictures and yes, I will upload them one of these days.
While we were waiting for the Zoo train, a wonderful 40-minute journey through the zoo and Forest Park (stunningly lovely on a day where the temperature reached into the high 60s with not a cloud in the sky), Rachel started singing a little song:
Little bunny Foo-foo
I don't like what you do
Scooping up the field mice
and bopping them on the head!
Now, I remember singing the EXACT SAME SONG when I was a kid, with Daniella. Our version was:
Little rabbit Foo-foo
running through the forest
scooping up the field mice
and banging them on the head!
When I tried to tell Rachel that my words were the right ones, she got indignant and insisted HER words were correct.
"WHERE did you learn that song??" I asked.
"At school," she said. Apparenly, Teacher Jolene taught it to her and to the other kids. Think I'll have a talk with her tomorrow.
But I digress.
Rachel and I had a wonderful time at the zoo with Julie today. We lucked into seeing one of the elephant trainers with one of the elephants, and got to watch the elephant eat, another elephant splash him/herself with water, and just watch them being, well, elephants. Rachel was enchanted and enchanting, letting Julie lift her up and hold her arond the waist while she just watched, fascinated. Yes, I got pictures and yes, I will upload them one of these days.
While we were waiting for the Zoo train, a wonderful 40-minute journey through the zoo and Forest Park (stunningly lovely on a day where the temperature reached into the high 60s with not a cloud in the sky), Rachel started singing a little song:
Little bunny Foo-foo
I don't like what you do
Scooping up the field mice
and bopping them on the head!
Now, I remember singing the EXACT SAME SONG when I was a kid, with Daniella. Our version was:
Little rabbit Foo-foo
running through the forest
scooping up the field mice
and banging them on the head!
When I tried to tell Rachel that my words were the right ones, she got indignant and insisted HER words were correct.
"WHERE did you learn that song??" I asked.
"At school," she said. Apparenly, Teacher Jolene taught it to her and to the other kids. Think I'll have a talk with her tomorrow.
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