Rachel and Drew got into a car accident this morning. Very minor; both Drew and the woman who plowed into him were at an intersection; Drew, having arrived first, began driving through, and the other driver somehow spaced out and blew out his headlight. He's OK, Rachel's OK, and the other driver admitted the accident was totally her fault...but it's still a hassle. Drew's car won't be fixed until Thursday, which means I'll be solely responsible for taking Rachel to and from preschool the next few days. Which is fine except that I'm feeling really crummy and am thinking of staying home tomorrow. Ugh.
The accident happened on the way to preschool, and as soon as Drew and the woman exchanged insurance information and he got back in the car, Rachel told him, "While you were outside talking to that lady, one big tear rolled down my cheek."
"Why, honey?" he asked.
"I was afraid we'd be late for school," she replied.
She was in her fairy costume because the teachers had told her class they'd be going to the baby room to show off their finery, then would change into their pajamas for a pajama party. Rachel indeed missed her Purple class, but the Pink class let her join them. And hopefully that is all the excitement we'll have for today.
***
"Do you love me?" Rachel asked at lunch yesterday.
"Oh, yes I do," I sighed.
"I love cuddling with you," she answered. Then:
"Even when you're mad or sad or angry, do you still love me?"
"Of course I do!" I exclaimed. "When you're mad or sad or angry, do you still love me?"
"Yes," she said.
"I may get mad or sad or angry at you, but my love for you will never change," I said. "Do you understand that? It's really important."
Monday, October 31, 2011
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Comic relief
Years ago before I had children, a good friend of mine, an editor at the Pioneer Press, said to me, "You have children for comic relief."
We had one of those moments tonight. I'd just gotten a call from my friend David Jones telling us about the big snowstorm back East. We talked about it at dinner, which led to a conversation about Rachel learning to ice skate and ski this winter and play in the snow.
"You can ice skate but not ski," she said to Drew.
"Other way around," he said. "I can ski but not ice skate."
"Why?" Rachel asked.
"I'm clumsy," he answered. Then he added, "No, I'm awkward."
Without skipping a beat, Rachel replied, "No, you got it right. You're clumsy."
As we hooted with laughter -- me slapping the table over and over again because I couldn't stop -- she added, "You were right the first time. You're big and clumsy."
***
Drew sang a little of "In the Mood" to Rachel yesterday. She has already decided she doesn't like "Paper Moon," which is a shame, because Drew and I love it. Here's her assessment of both songs:
"I like 'In the Mood' because it's cheerful. I don't like 'Paper Moon' because it's boring, but if I hear 'In the Mood' when I'm sad, it would cheer me up."
***
Comment of the evening:
"We're parking goddesses, right, Mommy?"
You better believe it, kid.
We had one of those moments tonight. I'd just gotten a call from my friend David Jones telling us about the big snowstorm back East. We talked about it at dinner, which led to a conversation about Rachel learning to ice skate and ski this winter and play in the snow.
"You can ice skate but not ski," she said to Drew.
"Other way around," he said. "I can ski but not ice skate."
"Why?" Rachel asked.
"I'm clumsy," he answered. Then he added, "No, I'm awkward."
Without skipping a beat, Rachel replied, "No, you got it right. You're clumsy."
As we hooted with laughter -- me slapping the table over and over again because I couldn't stop -- she added, "You were right the first time. You're big and clumsy."
***
Drew sang a little of "In the Mood" to Rachel yesterday. She has already decided she doesn't like "Paper Moon," which is a shame, because Drew and I love it. Here's her assessment of both songs:
"I like 'In the Mood' because it's cheerful. I don't like 'Paper Moon' because it's boring, but if I hear 'In the Mood' when I'm sad, it would cheer me up."
***
Comment of the evening:
"We're parking goddesses, right, Mommy?"
You better believe it, kid.
Friday, October 28, 2011
Halloweenie!
"I'm so excited for Halloweenie!" Rachel said tonight, trembling.
(The latest cute thing she does is tremble when she's excited. It's so adorable!)
Drew pretended that she meant we would eat weenies on Halloween instead of duck soup (after she fills up on trick-or-treat candy, of course!). Rachel and I had a good time feigning horror and exclaiming, "No! Noo!" until he finally relented.
Rachel and I also outflanked Drew in the "over/under" argument. As in, should the toilet paper be inserted in the holder so the paper rolls OVER the roll, or UNDER?
I'm an under person; Drew is an over. We've been arguing about this for years. It even continued in Africa, when Drew would sign his letters, "p.s. over." It took so long for me to catch on that he claimed he won the battle. HAHAHA, I said, and continued to insert the toilet paper under.
(Really, people, we do discuss more substantive stuff. Like, if it's ever OK to deny medical care for your kid based on religious beliefs, or if the economy will improve in time for Rachel to find a job and leave our house; and how many men are on a baseball team. I still don't know the answer to that one. Nine? Eleven? Does it really matter?).
Tonight Drew told me that he and Rachel were having the over/under discussion, and before I could prompt her, Rachel -- who was sitting and listening to us -- yelled, "UNDER." I said, "yeah, UNDER!" Drew said "OVER!" but he was no match for the two women at the table. I feel so sorry for him -- this is only the first of many times he's gonna be outvoted on critical issues.
***
Drew pretended he wasn't going to share the pretend candy bars he told Rachel he would eat for dinner one of these days (instead of a nutritious meal).
"There's a rule you need to share your candy with us, Dad!" she admonished him. "Sharing is caring!"
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Pumpkin carving!
I'm taking a digital video editing class on Thursday nights at the Northwest Film Center downtown (and today when I reminded Rachel of this, she said sadly, "I'll miss you, Mommy." "I'll miss you too, Rachel!" I replied). Drew decided tonight was a good night to carve the pumpkin we got at the pumpkin patch last weekend.
Too bad I wasn't there to see it, but I saw the evidence when I got home: Newspaper on the kitchen table, pieces of pumpkin on the newspaper, a bowl of fresh pumpkin flesh (which presumably I will use to make pumpkin bread, which got a big thumbs-up from Drew and Rachel) and pumpkin seeds, which Drew says his mom used to toast when Richard carved the pumpkin.
Drew said he explained to Rachel what he was doing every step of the way. He said she told him what shape to the make the eyes and what kind of expression the pumpkin should have (last week she decided it should be CRANKY). She told him to add ears and eyebrows.
Result: A lit up pumpkin on the front steps when I arrived, with a candle in the center. We have the most badass pumpkin in the neighborhood. Y'all should come see it.
***
Cute Rachel sayings:
Because of the rash of the articles I've been reading lately about how unprepared Millenials are for failure out of college because they've been told all their lives how great they are, I've been careful not to tell Rachel that she's smart, but to say "wow, you must have worked/tried really hard!" when she accomplishes something. And not to overpraise her when she does things she should, like dress herself and go to the bathroom herself.
I know, it won't do a lick of good -- we're bound to screw her up in some way that we can't even think of right now -- but it makes this mom feel better. As if I need any more stress in my life.
Anyway...I told Rachel I was impressed with how hard she worked on the pumpkin and how great it looks.
"Yeah!" she agreed. "Babies can't carve pumpkins."
"You're right, Rachel," I said. "Babies definitely can't carve pumpkins."
"Mommies and Daddies need to do ALL the hard work for babies," she observed. "And they get really tired!"
Couldn't have said it better, kid.
***
Considering this above comment, this one seems strangely apropos: Yesterday as I was driving Rachel to school, I mentioned something that had her reply, "the way you did for me when I was a baby."
"Yes, Rachel," I answered.
"Mommy, I can take care of you when you're old," she said.
Stunned by her thoughtfulness (we never, ever talk about this at home,), I answered, "Yes, Rachel, I would be delighted to have you take care of me."
Too bad I wasn't there to see it, but I saw the evidence when I got home: Newspaper on the kitchen table, pieces of pumpkin on the newspaper, a bowl of fresh pumpkin flesh (which presumably I will use to make pumpkin bread, which got a big thumbs-up from Drew and Rachel) and pumpkin seeds, which Drew says his mom used to toast when Richard carved the pumpkin.
Drew said he explained to Rachel what he was doing every step of the way. He said she told him what shape to the make the eyes and what kind of expression the pumpkin should have (last week she decided it should be CRANKY). She told him to add ears and eyebrows.
Result: A lit up pumpkin on the front steps when I arrived, with a candle in the center. We have the most badass pumpkin in the neighborhood. Y'all should come see it.
***
Cute Rachel sayings:
Because of the rash of the articles I've been reading lately about how unprepared Millenials are for failure out of college because they've been told all their lives how great they are, I've been careful not to tell Rachel that she's smart, but to say "wow, you must have worked/tried really hard!" when she accomplishes something. And not to overpraise her when she does things she should, like dress herself and go to the bathroom herself.
I know, it won't do a lick of good -- we're bound to screw her up in some way that we can't even think of right now -- but it makes this mom feel better. As if I need any more stress in my life.
Anyway...I told Rachel I was impressed with how hard she worked on the pumpkin and how great it looks.
"Yeah!" she agreed. "Babies can't carve pumpkins."
"You're right, Rachel," I said. "Babies definitely can't carve pumpkins."
"Mommies and Daddies need to do ALL the hard work for babies," she observed. "And they get really tired!"
Couldn't have said it better, kid.
***
Considering this above comment, this one seems strangely apropos: Yesterday as I was driving Rachel to school, I mentioned something that had her reply, "the way you did for me when I was a baby."
"Yes, Rachel," I answered.
"Mommy, I can take care of you when you're old," she said.
Stunned by her thoughtfulness (we never, ever talk about this at home,), I answered, "Yes, Rachel, I would be delighted to have you take care of me."
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Bedtime askidenks
Rachel gets the concept of going to the bathroom at night, but unfortunately doesn't always follow through. A couple of weeks ago I installed night lights in her bedroom (a red one, a gift from my friend Jeannette who lived in Tokyo for a couple of years and makes Rachel's room look like a bordello, Drew says) and one in the bathroom (a cool one that automatically lights up in the dark and shuts down when it's light) so she could see her way clear. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.
She peed in her bed over the weekend and explained, "My body didn't goed pee, it was my brain."
She peed in her bed last night and this morning told Drew, "The bed wanted me to pee."
I think that's her way of explaining her embarrassment, to blame it on something other than herself. She really wants to wear underwear full-time, but, as I told Drew, "the bed wants you to wear Pull-Ups for a while," so we're back to those for the forseeable future.
She peed in her bed over the weekend and explained, "My body didn't goed pee, it was my brain."
She peed in her bed last night and this morning told Drew, "The bed wanted me to pee."
I think that's her way of explaining her embarrassment, to blame it on something other than herself. She really wants to wear underwear full-time, but, as I told Drew, "the bed wants you to wear Pull-Ups for a while," so we're back to those for the forseeable future.
Rachel hangs out with Angela
I had to go to a dinner tonight sponsored by the Oregon Area Jewish Committee (OAJC), of which I am a board member. It was a semi-swanky affair at the Governors Hotel in downtown Portland. I dressed up a bit more than usual for work, applied an extra dose of makeup and lots of perfume.
I felt like the stereotypical NYC mom who is way more successful and earns way more money than I do in real life as I raced to preschool, scooped up Rachel (who just ran to me and wrapped her arms around me and put her head on my shoulder without saying a word -- wonder if she was lonely today?), headed to Old Town to pick up our babysitter, Angela, then shoved Rachel's snack bags at Angela, along with my house keys, put Rachel's heavy coat on, then her backpack over that, then said a cheery goodbye as they waited in the cold for the bus to take them home. Luckily I had sort of bribed Rachel with the idea of taking a CITY BUS home to prevent her from fussing too much about missing Mommy tonight.
Angela took some hilarious video of Rachel on the bus and at home, singing songs from preschool and making up some of the words to other songs, like the ABC Song. Angela perfectly captured Rachel on the bus, saying the following after a woman leaned into her face and told her how adorable she was and went on and on about her backpack, and basically kept beaming at her the whole bus ride home. ("Kinda creepy," was Angela's verdict):
"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," Rachel told Angela. "I can talk to you because I know who you are, but I can't talk to people I don't know."
Good girl!
(The dinner was lovely, by the way -- excellent food and a nice presentation, but I was sure lonely for my Rachel. Thank goodness these obligations don't come up very often).
I felt like the stereotypical NYC mom who is way more successful and earns way more money than I do in real life as I raced to preschool, scooped up Rachel (who just ran to me and wrapped her arms around me and put her head on my shoulder without saying a word -- wonder if she was lonely today?), headed to Old Town to pick up our babysitter, Angela, then shoved Rachel's snack bags at Angela, along with my house keys, put Rachel's heavy coat on, then her backpack over that, then said a cheery goodbye as they waited in the cold for the bus to take them home. Luckily I had sort of bribed Rachel with the idea of taking a CITY BUS home to prevent her from fussing too much about missing Mommy tonight.
Angela took some hilarious video of Rachel on the bus and at home, singing songs from preschool and making up some of the words to other songs, like the ABC Song. Angela perfectly captured Rachel on the bus, saying the following after a woman leaned into her face and told her how adorable she was and went on and on about her backpack, and basically kept beaming at her the whole bus ride home. ("Kinda creepy," was Angela's verdict):
"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," Rachel told Angela. "I can talk to you because I know who you are, but I can't talk to people I don't know."
Good girl!
(The dinner was lovely, by the way -- excellent food and a nice presentation, but I was sure lonely for my Rachel. Thank goodness these obligations don't come up very often).
Monday, October 24, 2011
Guest poster Drew here: While I was putting Rachel down to sleep tonight, she lay down on the rug, told me to kiss her and pretended to be asleep, a la Sleeping Beauty. First I said, "I like an assertive Sleeping Beauty -- 'Give me a kiss, you dumb prince!'" and she wholeheartedly ran with it: "Yeah -- come on, dumb prince! I want a kiss!"
So then I kissed her, and she opened her eyes, sat up and said "Let's get married! I've been looking for a prince for a husband. We can go to my house and have tea and then have milk and water and we'll be really good friends."
So then I kissed her, and she opened her eyes, sat up and said "Let's get married! I've been looking for a prince for a husband. We can go to my house and have tea and then have milk and water and we'll be really good friends."
Girrrl Power!
Rachel and Drew and I have started a game loosely translated as, "Girls are Better than Boys"/"Boys are Better than Girls." It starts out with Rachel and I teaming up and telling Drew all the things that girls can do/wear/be that boys can't. Then it's his turn.
Tonight at dinner it went something like this:
Rachel: Girls can wear crowns! Your turn, Mommy.
Me: Only girls can give birth.
Rachel: Only girls can wear dresses.
Me: Only girls can wear heels!
And so on.
Drew's response: Boys can have HUNDREDS of children. Only boys can play professional baseball. Only boys can be kings, which trump queens in poker. And speaking of poker...only boys have won prizes on the professional poker circuit.
Rachel and I still think that being a girl is a better deal
Rachel's version
Here is the version I sing of "Rain, rain, go away":
Rain, rain, go away
Come again some other day
Mommy and Rachel want to go out and play
So rain, rain, rain, GO AWAY!
And here is Rachel's version:
Rain, rain, go away
Come again some other day
But we still love you
So rain, rain, rain, GO AWAY!
Drew thinks she doesn't want to hurt the rain's feelings by chasing it away!
Rain, rain, go away
Come again some other day
Mommy and Rachel want to go out and play
So rain, rain, rain, GO AWAY!
And here is Rachel's version:
Rain, rain, go away
Come again some other day
But we still love you
So rain, rain, rain, GO AWAY!
Drew thinks she doesn't want to hurt the rain's feelings by chasing it away!
Rachel has her limits
Poor Rachel -- we love her little warbly voice so much that we constantly ask her to sing us the little songs she learns in preschool, most of which probably come out garbled.
My current favorite is about sleeping bunnies, and waking them up, and telling them to hop. Watching her sing it is ADORABLE.
When we asked her to do so tonight, she replied, slightly wearily,
"I don't want to sing it every day. I'll sing it one more time, and that's it."
My current favorite is about sleeping bunnies, and waking them up, and telling them to hop. Watching her sing it is ADORABLE.
When we asked her to do so tonight, she replied, slightly wearily,
"I don't want to sing it every day. I'll sing it one more time, and that's it."
A little weekend commentary...
I was slightly miffed on Saturday morning that Drew hadn't taken the bacon out of the freezer, so I had to wait for it to thaw. I like eating my scone with my bacon while I drink my tea, and I was hungry, and I didn't really want to wait.
I didn't say anything, but Rachel picked up on my mood.
"It won't take a long time, Mommy," she explained. "It'll take less time if you don't whine about it."
***
Rachel's favorite expression these days is "super-duper!"
"I could buy you a really nice super car and a nice super phone!" she told Drew on Saturday. "That's what I'll give you!"
I didn't say anything, but Rachel picked up on my mood.
"It won't take a long time, Mommy," she explained. "It'll take less time if you don't whine about it."
***
Rachel's favorite expression these days is "super-duper!"
"I could buy you a really nice super car and a nice super phone!" she told Drew on Saturday. "That's what I'll give you!"
Pumpkin patch!
We had a fantastic outing yesterday (Sunday) at a great pumpkin patch near Doug and Linda's house. It's called Lee's Farm, and there was every kind of attraction you could possibly imagine -- hayrides, a corn maze, FRESH APPLE CIDER DONUTS (major yum!) and other stuff.
We got there quite late, around 1 or so, and the sun played tag with the clouds most of the day. Rachel had a big time going down a slide similar to the one she mastered at Oak Park; playing on a big bouncy globular structure; then screwing up her courage enough to feed a baby goat (after screaming at first, and clinging to Drew, she watched the goat eat some goat food from his hand, then decided to try it herself and was so proud of herself, as she should have been -- "Look, Mommy! I'm feeding the goats!" she said) -- then a ride on a pony named Sophie (she went around and around in a circle, with Drew holding the saddle in place); then we, Doug, Linda, Jack and Andrew trooped to the red barn and got two bags of hot, fresh apple cider donuts, hot cider, and caramel apples and had a snack; then we went back outside and Rachel played in a bouncy house until she fell and scraped her knee; then she got her face painted (a horse on one side; a chick on the other); and she and Drew went on a hayride.
In between she petted some baby chicks that Drew and I held out to her, and she and Drew went inside a kid's maze that included her sliding down a big irrigation pipe. Oh, and Drew bought her a huge bag of kettle corn, which we all munched on.
I was really tired by days' end, but we ended up going to a fantastic kid-friendly restaurant near Doug and Linda's. Rachel was extremely well-behaved, as usual; she ate most of her quesadilla and lemonade, played in the corner with the books and toys the restaurant had stashed there (the boys entertained themselves with the Wii nearby) and the adults actually got to have some conversation.
"This is so nice!" Linda kept saying, and I couldn't help remembering back when Rachel was a little baby and the boys were younger, and we'd meet at a park, and all I wanted to do was have some grown-up conversation and the kids kept interrupting. To this day, I feel as if Linda and I had only snatches of conversation during those years and I can barely remember what I've told her and what I haven't. Sort of like being a patient with dementia, I guess. "It'll get even nicer when they're older," I told Linda last night, when the kids will really be able to interact among themselves and with us and we'll be long past the difficult baby-and-toddler stages.
On the way out of the restaurant, poor Rachel screeched in terror when a life-size witch, who was standing sentry as decoration, suddenly moved and smoke came out of her mouth along with a terrible cackle. She had spent most of the day in Drew's arms, but when she was scared she reached out for Mommy. I soothed her enough to get her into the car seat and home quickly.
Oh, yeah, we picked out a pumpkin that Drew will probably carve up with Rachel on Friday or Saturday night while I make matzo ball soup and toast the pumpkin seeds (I plan to look for a recipe for toasted pumpkin seeds online -- maybe I'll make half sweet, half savory). "Know what we're doing?" Drew said as we left the pumpkin patch. "Making memories."
We got there quite late, around 1 or so, and the sun played tag with the clouds most of the day. Rachel had a big time going down a slide similar to the one she mastered at Oak Park; playing on a big bouncy globular structure; then screwing up her courage enough to feed a baby goat (after screaming at first, and clinging to Drew, she watched the goat eat some goat food from his hand, then decided to try it herself and was so proud of herself, as she should have been -- "Look, Mommy! I'm feeding the goats!" she said) -- then a ride on a pony named Sophie (she went around and around in a circle, with Drew holding the saddle in place); then we, Doug, Linda, Jack and Andrew trooped to the red barn and got two bags of hot, fresh apple cider donuts, hot cider, and caramel apples and had a snack; then we went back outside and Rachel played in a bouncy house until she fell and scraped her knee; then she got her face painted (a horse on one side; a chick on the other); and she and Drew went on a hayride.
In between she petted some baby chicks that Drew and I held out to her, and she and Drew went inside a kid's maze that included her sliding down a big irrigation pipe. Oh, and Drew bought her a huge bag of kettle corn, which we all munched on.
I was really tired by days' end, but we ended up going to a fantastic kid-friendly restaurant near Doug and Linda's. Rachel was extremely well-behaved, as usual; she ate most of her quesadilla and lemonade, played in the corner with the books and toys the restaurant had stashed there (the boys entertained themselves with the Wii nearby) and the adults actually got to have some conversation.
"This is so nice!" Linda kept saying, and I couldn't help remembering back when Rachel was a little baby and the boys were younger, and we'd meet at a park, and all I wanted to do was have some grown-up conversation and the kids kept interrupting. To this day, I feel as if Linda and I had only snatches of conversation during those years and I can barely remember what I've told her and what I haven't. Sort of like being a patient with dementia, I guess. "It'll get even nicer when they're older," I told Linda last night, when the kids will really be able to interact among themselves and with us and we'll be long past the difficult baby-and-toddler stages.
On the way out of the restaurant, poor Rachel screeched in terror when a life-size witch, who was standing sentry as decoration, suddenly moved and smoke came out of her mouth along with a terrible cackle. She had spent most of the day in Drew's arms, but when she was scared she reached out for Mommy. I soothed her enough to get her into the car seat and home quickly.
Oh, yeah, we picked out a pumpkin that Drew will probably carve up with Rachel on Friday or Saturday night while I make matzo ball soup and toast the pumpkin seeds (I plan to look for a recipe for toasted pumpkin seeds online -- maybe I'll make half sweet, half savory). "Know what we're doing?" Drew said as we left the pumpkin patch. "Making memories."
Friday, October 21, 2011
Our new identities
We are, to Rachel's friends, nameless. An example:
Today Drew ran into Tessa, one of Rachel's friends from preschool, as he was picking Rachel up tonight.
"Rachel's Dad!" she said excitedly, greeting him. Turning to her mom, Helen, she said, "We're going to have a playdate with Rachel!"
"Yes," Helen said somewhat wearily. "We're trying to put that together."
***
This morning Rachel knocked very politely on our bedroom door. We had overslept a bit, so we invited her in to bed to cuddle. She was clutching the faded yellow rabbit she calls Knuffle Bunny, but it's really a stuffed animal that one of my roommates gave me in college.
"I need something soft to cuddle when I'm in bed," she explained, so all of us snuggled up until Drew decided it was time to make breakfast for all of us (I had the day off).
Today Drew ran into Tessa, one of Rachel's friends from preschool, as he was picking Rachel up tonight.
"Rachel's Dad!" she said excitedly, greeting him. Turning to her mom, Helen, she said, "We're going to have a playdate with Rachel!"
"Yes," Helen said somewhat wearily. "We're trying to put that together."
***
This morning Rachel knocked very politely on our bedroom door. We had overslept a bit, so we invited her in to bed to cuddle. She was clutching the faded yellow rabbit she calls Knuffle Bunny, but it's really a stuffed animal that one of my roommates gave me in college.
"I need something soft to cuddle when I'm in bed," she explained, so all of us snuggled up until Drew decided it was time to make breakfast for all of us (I had the day off).
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Poignant moments
"Mommy, when I'm a grown woman, will you still be my mommy?"
"Yes, Rachel!" I answered, touched.
"When I get new children, will you always still be my mommy?"
"Of course, Rachel!" I said, hugging her. "I will always be your mommy!"
***
The other night I was telling Rachel, after she asked, "what's your real name?" which she has asked before, that people have several names (and several identities). Her name is Rachel Drury DeSilver, for instance. And Mommy is a sister to Tia Daniella, whose name is Daniella Lednicer. Who is married to Darryl Chu. And their daughter is Valerie, whose last name is Valerie Chu. Isn't that cool?
Upon hearing Valerie's name, Rachel immediately yelled, "Duckie!"
"Yes, Rachel," I said.
"Is that her real name?" she asked.
"No, it's a nickname," I answered.
"Can we have a playdate?" she asked, a little forlornly.
I hugged her and said we'd definitely see Valerie and the rest of the family next year.
***
"That's my other house!" Rachel said excitedly after we passed a drab set of olive green apartments. She claims she lives there with Peya, her husband, Nevaeh, her other mommy (Nevaeh is "heaven" spelled backwards, a disturbing trend in girls' names) and the babies -- Bob, Delly and Abby Cadaddy.
Apparently there is a new addition to the family -- baby Zoey. We got into a discussion that those are lot of babies. She observed that when she has babies, "Mommy and Daddy will be Grandma and Grandpa!"
"And we'll help you take care of the babies," I said.
"You can take care of them," she said. "I don't want to do all the work!"
So tonight she said she wants two children -- then thought about it and added, maybe three -- and she again said she didn't want to do all the work. Her solution was to give me one of them.
"Babies are a lot of work," I said. "You can't just give them to me. Hopefully you'll have a husband or wife who will help you."
"But you had a husband to help you," she noted. True enough, and secretly I think it would be wonderful to help care for a little baby that I didn't have to lose sleep over. But by the time she gets pregnant I'll probably be so old that all I'll get to do is to cuddle her child. Drew can take care of the swaddling since he always did it better than me anyway.
"Yes, Rachel!" I answered, touched.
"When I get new children, will you always still be my mommy?"
"Of course, Rachel!" I said, hugging her. "I will always be your mommy!"
***
The other night I was telling Rachel, after she asked, "what's your real name?" which she has asked before, that people have several names (and several identities). Her name is Rachel Drury DeSilver, for instance. And Mommy is a sister to Tia Daniella, whose name is Daniella Lednicer. Who is married to Darryl Chu. And their daughter is Valerie, whose last name is Valerie Chu. Isn't that cool?
Upon hearing Valerie's name, Rachel immediately yelled, "Duckie!"
"Yes, Rachel," I said.
"Is that her real name?" she asked.
"No, it's a nickname," I answered.
"Can we have a playdate?" she asked, a little forlornly.
I hugged her and said we'd definitely see Valerie and the rest of the family next year.
***
"That's my other house!" Rachel said excitedly after we passed a drab set of olive green apartments. She claims she lives there with Peya, her husband, Nevaeh, her other mommy (Nevaeh is "heaven" spelled backwards, a disturbing trend in girls' names) and the babies -- Bob, Delly and Abby Cadaddy.
Apparently there is a new addition to the family -- baby Zoey. We got into a discussion that those are lot of babies. She observed that when she has babies, "Mommy and Daddy will be Grandma and Grandpa!"
"And we'll help you take care of the babies," I said.
"You can take care of them," she said. "I don't want to do all the work!"
So tonight she said she wants two children -- then thought about it and added, maybe three -- and she again said she didn't want to do all the work. Her solution was to give me one of them.
"Babies are a lot of work," I said. "You can't just give them to me. Hopefully you'll have a husband or wife who will help you."
"But you had a husband to help you," she noted. True enough, and secretly I think it would be wonderful to help care for a little baby that I didn't have to lose sleep over. But by the time she gets pregnant I'll probably be so old that all I'll get to do is to cuddle her child. Drew can take care of the swaddling since he always did it better than me anyway.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
What people say about Rachel
On Sunday in the park, an older guy noticed Rachel singing "The ABC Song." He asked her how old she was. "I'm three!" she said, holding up three fingers.
"Wow," he said to Drew. "She's so smart! And so tall!"
"Wow," he said to Drew. "She's so smart! And so tall!"
oh! She's so grown-up!
While Rachel and I were cuddling in her bed tonight, I made sure to thank her profusely for all the grown-up things she did today. A sampling:
--At Oregon Park, a cool new park we discovered off Sandy Boulevard, I lugged her snack bag and the car keys to a table while we raced around the play structure. "I need a REST!" Rachel said, huffing and puffing. We were sitting on a bench when she said she wanted the snack bag. I pointed it out to her on a distant picnic table and she immediately offered to get it. She lugged the whole thing back, plus the car keys, without a fuss. Then, on the long walk back to the car, she offered to carry the bag all the way.
--At home, she sat in the living room paging through her fairy tales book while I made her dinner. Then she ate a whole bunch of chicken, part of a piece of steak, and asked for dessert. I told her I wanted her to finish her rotini. We had a discussion about how many bites it would take before she could get dessert, and I said probably more than 12. She stopped counting at 34! And almost all of the rotini was gone! I gave her ice cream. "I want a lot of ice cream," she said. "What's a lot?" I teased. "A hundred," she answered. "A million!"
--After we finished reading books and cuddling in the glider, she brushed her teeth all by herself and insisted on getting her washcloth out and washing her face all by herself. She let me put soap on the cloth, but that was it. Then she did a great job of washing her hands and wiping them on the hand towel.
--In the bedroom, she took off her clothes, grabbed the basket where her pajamas are kept, dragged it to the middle of the room, searched for her snowflake-covered jammies, smoothed the pink gingham lining of the basket to make it look pretty, then lugged the basket back to its place under the changing table. Then she insisted on putting her jammes on all by herself.
And in the past few days, she has:
--Voluntarily gotten the dustpan and brush after a particularly crumbly meal, swept up the crumbs under her seat, dumped them in the garbage and returned both to their place in the closet. Drew didn't even suggest she do it; she shocked him by volunteering.
--Gotten herself dressed in the morning. Today she told Drew, "I can get dressed myself. Go downstairs and brush your teeth, Daddy." When he returned she had put herself in what he described as a perfectly acceptable outfit. (Of course I never got to see it because she peed all over herself at naptime, which means she's not fully independent. But, oh, she's getting there!)
This is why we call her Rachel the Wonder Child.
--At Oregon Park, a cool new park we discovered off Sandy Boulevard, I lugged her snack bag and the car keys to a table while we raced around the play structure. "I need a REST!" Rachel said, huffing and puffing. We were sitting on a bench when she said she wanted the snack bag. I pointed it out to her on a distant picnic table and she immediately offered to get it. She lugged the whole thing back, plus the car keys, without a fuss. Then, on the long walk back to the car, she offered to carry the bag all the way.
--At home, she sat in the living room paging through her fairy tales book while I made her dinner. Then she ate a whole bunch of chicken, part of a piece of steak, and asked for dessert. I told her I wanted her to finish her rotini. We had a discussion about how many bites it would take before she could get dessert, and I said probably more than 12. She stopped counting at 34! And almost all of the rotini was gone! I gave her ice cream. "I want a lot of ice cream," she said. "What's a lot?" I teased. "A hundred," she answered. "A million!"
--After we finished reading books and cuddling in the glider, she brushed her teeth all by herself and insisted on getting her washcloth out and washing her face all by herself. She let me put soap on the cloth, but that was it. Then she did a great job of washing her hands and wiping them on the hand towel.
--In the bedroom, she took off her clothes, grabbed the basket where her pajamas are kept, dragged it to the middle of the room, searched for her snowflake-covered jammies, smoothed the pink gingham lining of the basket to make it look pretty, then lugged the basket back to its place under the changing table. Then she insisted on putting her jammes on all by herself.
And in the past few days, she has:
--Voluntarily gotten the dustpan and brush after a particularly crumbly meal, swept up the crumbs under her seat, dumped them in the garbage and returned both to their place in the closet. Drew didn't even suggest she do it; she shocked him by volunteering.
--Gotten herself dressed in the morning. Today she told Drew, "I can get dressed myself. Go downstairs and brush your teeth, Daddy." When he returned she had put herself in what he described as a perfectly acceptable outfit. (Of course I never got to see it because she peed all over herself at naptime, which means she's not fully independent. But, oh, she's getting there!)
This is why we call her Rachel the Wonder Child.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Ready for tee-ball??
Rachel asked me to play baseball with her tonight, so we went upstairs to the attic, she got out the inflatable milk bottle that she wields like a baseball bat, and I tossed the inflatable balls to her. She whacked most of them pretty well; two went straight down the line past the "pitcher's mound," (Mommy standing a few feet away).
"WOW, Rachel!" I kept saying.
"I'm ready for REAL baseball!" she insisted. So I'm sure that come spring, we'll be looking for the peewee equivalent of Little League for our little girl.
She's growing up too fast, Part 4
Rachel and I were talking tonight about how big she is. (She was wearing a sweater and jeans and she looked so grown-up, it took my breath away). I said I hoped she would always cuddle in my lap and she ridiculed that idea. "When I'm grown up I'll be too big to fit in your lap!" she said. "I'll crush you!" When I expressed sadness at the idea of her getting big, she replied, "I wanna have my OWN children and I wanna drive!"
***
As we pulled into the garage tonight, Rachel suddenly said, apropos of nothing, "Mommy, do you love me even though I do bad things?"
Sensing this was an important moment, I turned around and said, "Yes, Rachel. "Do you love Mommy when I get mad?"
"Yes," she replied. "I love Daddy, too!"
***
Rachel mentioned tonight (as Drew had told me earlier) that there's another Rachel in preschool who is moving from Toddler 3s to preschool. He told Rachel this morning that she should look out for the new Rachel and try to be her special friend.
Tonight Rachel said, "There's another Rachel. Little Rachel. When she grows up she'll be in my class and we'll be best friends!"
***
Speaking of best friends, Rachel said that none of the other kids played with her today, and added that's probably because Sadie, a friend of hers, likes to play with her all the time. She seemed concerned that that was cutting into her social life.
"I have a great idea!" Rachel said suddenly. "I can play with osmeone else and Sadie can come and all THREE of us can play together!"
***
Rachel insists she likes vegetables because she likes corn. (She assured me that when she grows up she will eat salad, too, and asked me, "Will you make me salad all the time when I grow up?" I said that I'd make her as much salad as she wants in high school, when she'll need to eat vegetables because she'll be playing soccer and softball...).
"Corn corn corn!" she shouted. "Do you know what corn tastes like? It tastes like golden raspeberries!"
***
As we pulled into the garage tonight, Rachel suddenly said, apropos of nothing, "Mommy, do you love me even though I do bad things?"
Sensing this was an important moment, I turned around and said, "Yes, Rachel. "Do you love Mommy when I get mad?"
"Yes," she replied. "I love Daddy, too!"
***
Rachel mentioned tonight (as Drew had told me earlier) that there's another Rachel in preschool who is moving from Toddler 3s to preschool. He told Rachel this morning that she should look out for the new Rachel and try to be her special friend.
Tonight Rachel said, "There's another Rachel. Little Rachel. When she grows up she'll be in my class and we'll be best friends!"
***
Speaking of best friends, Rachel said that none of the other kids played with her today, and added that's probably because Sadie, a friend of hers, likes to play with her all the time. She seemed concerned that that was cutting into her social life.
"I have a great idea!" Rachel said suddenly. "I can play with osmeone else and Sadie can come and all THREE of us can play together!"
***
Rachel insists she likes vegetables because she likes corn. (She assured me that when she grows up she will eat salad, too, and asked me, "Will you make me salad all the time when I grow up?" I said that I'd make her as much salad as she wants in high school, when she'll need to eat vegetables because she'll be playing soccer and softball...).
"Corn corn corn!" she shouted. "Do you know what corn tastes like? It tastes like golden raspeberries!"
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Rachel speaks Yiddish!
I've posted before about Rachel's enchantment with the Hanukkah song that Mom and Dad used to sing to Daniella and me every year at Hanukkah. It's in Yiddish, which I will not even try to transliterate here. I know the words only because they got embedded in my brain during my childhood. I can even sort of mimic a Yiddish accent.
Now that Rachel's in dance class, she wants me to sing "the fast Hanukkah song," which is the song Mom and Dad sang to us, except the last two verses are speeded up. The entire song consists of Rachel twirling around slowly on one leg, dipping and swooping her arms now and then. After the last two verses she looks slightly confused and insists the floor is spinning, because she gets dizzy from twirling!
Tonight she actually started singing the song with me in YIDDISH! She even got up on my lap and we finished out the verses. I'm sure she'll have it all down by Hanukkah.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Rachel the instructor
Rachel and Charlotte, the 3-year-old girl she met at the park today, were playing on the monkey bars. Rachel was hooking her knees and placing each hand on opposite parallel bars, then stretching downward into the best yoga-like poses I have ever seen.
Charlotte tried to get her knees up but just couldn't.
Rachel: Are you eating school lunch?
Charlotte: No.
Rachel: Well, only kids who eat school lunch can do this.
I had to refrain from gently telling her not to be a bossy little twit.
Charlotte tried to get her knees up but just couldn't.
Rachel: Are you eating school lunch?
Charlotte: No.
Rachel: Well, only kids who eat school lunch can do this.
I had to refrain from gently telling her not to be a bossy little twit.
Happy Yom Kippur!
It seems antithetical to say "happy Yom Kippur!" for a holiday that is, let's face it, extremely depressing, but I had a good holiday this year. No, scratch that -- a GREAT holiday.
The day began with Rachel tentatively knocking at our bedroom door. Drew was asleep. I hated to wake him but eventually I called out, "Come in, Rachel!" She toddled in, Drew offered to lift her up and join us, and she explained, "I thought you'd be upset if I came in, so I waited a while and then knocked on your door." Drew asked if she had knocked loudly or softly, and she said softly. We both praised her for being incredibly considerate. (Sometimes it really does feel as if we have another adult living with us!).
Family time eventually devolved into tickle time when Rachel said, "Let's tickle Mommy's FEET!" and she and Drew made me howl with laughter. Then it was tickle Daddy, and tickle Rachel, and then Rachel kicked me accidentally in, as Drew put it to Rachel, "the soft parts of Mommy's body." When I said "Ouch!" and "Stop it, Rachel, you're hurting me!" she burst into tears and was only consoled when I took her in my arms and said over and over, "it's OK, Rachel, I'm not mad!" Then she did the sweetest thing -- she leaned her cheek against mine and I could feel her eyelashes fluttering against me. "You're giving me butterfly kisses, sweetie!" I said softly. She stayed there for about 10 minutes. It was great.
Then she and Drew ate breakfast while I got ready for synagogue. They dropped me off and then went to the farmer's market and Rachel's ballet class (she did great again this week, Drew said, and is really looking forward to her recital next month) while I sat in temple and listened to a really good sermon. Then I attended the discussion afterward, and met Drew and Rachel for the children's service at 2:15.
The kids' service was GREAT. The kids joined the rabbi on the bima. Rachel wore a yarmulke like the other kids and kept shouting out the answers until Rabbi Cahana gently told her that some of the other kids wanted to take a turn answering, too. (Sample question: What do we say "I'm sorry" for? Answer from Rachel: "Because we did bad things." The rabbi then said just because you do something bad, it doesn't mean you're a bad person. Rachel answered, "it doesn't mean your parents don't love you!" and the other parents nodded approvingly).
I was going to stay for the afternoon service, but the day was so beautiful -- sunny and 68 degrees -- that we decided to go to the park across the synagogue instead. It has a terrific play structure and Rachel, as is her wont, quickly made friends. "Do you want to play with me?" a little girl named Harper, 4 1/2, said to Rachel. (She told Drew she was in "early kindergarten."). They exchanged names and then Harper took Rachel's hand and they went off to play. It was incredibly sweet.
Rachel also met a little girl named Charlotte, who just turned 3. Charlotte saw Drew horsing around with Rachel -- turning her upside down, chasing her, etc. and immediately wanted to do the same thing. Eventually Drew lifted them both up and carried them around, much to the delight of me and Charlotte's parents. Rachel showed off everything she can do on the monkey bars, including turning herself upside down, hooking her feet on the top part of the monkey bars and stretching in the most amazing yoga poses.
She had nap when she got home, and then it was off to my friend Miriam's house for a break-the-fast nosh. Drew and Rachel joined us after Rachel woke up, and she proceeded to charm everyone at the nosh. Most of the folks were grownups and I was happy to see her ask politely for watermelon. She ate some raspberries and my homemade fig cake with buttermilk glaze before we all went home and she went to bed.
Now it is almost 11:30 but we have rented "In the Garden of the Finzi-Continis," which somehow feels appropriate for this day. Shana tova to all!
The day began with Rachel tentatively knocking at our bedroom door. Drew was asleep. I hated to wake him but eventually I called out, "Come in, Rachel!" She toddled in, Drew offered to lift her up and join us, and she explained, "I thought you'd be upset if I came in, so I waited a while and then knocked on your door." Drew asked if she had knocked loudly or softly, and she said softly. We both praised her for being incredibly considerate. (Sometimes it really does feel as if we have another adult living with us!).
Family time eventually devolved into tickle time when Rachel said, "Let's tickle Mommy's FEET!" and she and Drew made me howl with laughter. Then it was tickle Daddy, and tickle Rachel, and then Rachel kicked me accidentally in, as Drew put it to Rachel, "the soft parts of Mommy's body." When I said "Ouch!" and "Stop it, Rachel, you're hurting me!" she burst into tears and was only consoled when I took her in my arms and said over and over, "it's OK, Rachel, I'm not mad!" Then she did the sweetest thing -- she leaned her cheek against mine and I could feel her eyelashes fluttering against me. "You're giving me butterfly kisses, sweetie!" I said softly. She stayed there for about 10 minutes. It was great.
Then she and Drew ate breakfast while I got ready for synagogue. They dropped me off and then went to the farmer's market and Rachel's ballet class (she did great again this week, Drew said, and is really looking forward to her recital next month) while I sat in temple and listened to a really good sermon. Then I attended the discussion afterward, and met Drew and Rachel for the children's service at 2:15.
The kids' service was GREAT. The kids joined the rabbi on the bima. Rachel wore a yarmulke like the other kids and kept shouting out the answers until Rabbi Cahana gently told her that some of the other kids wanted to take a turn answering, too. (Sample question: What do we say "I'm sorry" for? Answer from Rachel: "Because we did bad things." The rabbi then said just because you do something bad, it doesn't mean you're a bad person. Rachel answered, "it doesn't mean your parents don't love you!" and the other parents nodded approvingly).
I was going to stay for the afternoon service, but the day was so beautiful -- sunny and 68 degrees -- that we decided to go to the park across the synagogue instead. It has a terrific play structure and Rachel, as is her wont, quickly made friends. "Do you want to play with me?" a little girl named Harper, 4 1/2, said to Rachel. (She told Drew she was in "early kindergarten."). They exchanged names and then Harper took Rachel's hand and they went off to play. It was incredibly sweet.
Rachel also met a little girl named Charlotte, who just turned 3. Charlotte saw Drew horsing around with Rachel -- turning her upside down, chasing her, etc. and immediately wanted to do the same thing. Eventually Drew lifted them both up and carried them around, much to the delight of me and Charlotte's parents. Rachel showed off everything she can do on the monkey bars, including turning herself upside down, hooking her feet on the top part of the monkey bars and stretching in the most amazing yoga poses.
She had nap when she got home, and then it was off to my friend Miriam's house for a break-the-fast nosh. Drew and Rachel joined us after Rachel woke up, and she proceeded to charm everyone at the nosh. Most of the folks were grownups and I was happy to see her ask politely for watermelon. She ate some raspberries and my homemade fig cake with buttermilk glaze before we all went home and she went to bed.
Now it is almost 11:30 but we have rented "In the Garden of the Finzi-Continis," which somehow feels appropriate for this day. Shana tova to all!
Monday, October 3, 2011
Rain rain rain blech...
"I don't hate the rain," Rachel said as we drove home tonight.
"That's good, sweetie," I answered.
"Mommy hates the rain," she observed.
"Yes, I do," I answered.
***
I was explaining Yom Kippur to Rachel at dinner tonight, telling her that she could come to the Saturday afternoon children's service with me.
"But it's really looong," she whined.
I told her the kids' service is much shorter than the grownup one. I explained that on Yom Kippur, we say we're sorry for all the bad things we did over the past year.
"I don't have to be sorry for anything on Yom Kippur because I didn't do anything bad," she said.
***
"It's very hard when Daddy's not here," she said sadly tonight.
"Why, sweetie?" I asked.
"Because I miss Daddy!" she said.
***
We got into an up-the-ante contest involving how much we love each other:
"I love you THIS high," Rachel said, measuring from the chair to the top of the table.
"I love you THIS high!" I said, stretching my hand toward the ceiling.
"I love you THIS high!" she said, trying to stretch her hand toward the ceiling, too.
"I love you to the ends of the universe!" I said.
"And I love you down to the basement!" she said.
"I love you 100 million!" I exclaimed.
"I love you 516!" she yelled.
"I love your hair!" she continued.
"I love your face!" I said.
"I love you all the way back to rainbow colors!" she said.
And so on. It was quite entertaining. And touching.
"That's good, sweetie," I answered.
"Mommy hates the rain," she observed.
"Yes, I do," I answered.
***
I was explaining Yom Kippur to Rachel at dinner tonight, telling her that she could come to the Saturday afternoon children's service with me.
"But it's really looong," she whined.
I told her the kids' service is much shorter than the grownup one. I explained that on Yom Kippur, we say we're sorry for all the bad things we did over the past year.
"I don't have to be sorry for anything on Yom Kippur because I didn't do anything bad," she said.
***
"It's very hard when Daddy's not here," she said sadly tonight.
"Why, sweetie?" I asked.
"Because I miss Daddy!" she said.
***
We got into an up-the-ante contest involving how much we love each other:
"I love you THIS high," Rachel said, measuring from the chair to the top of the table.
"I love you THIS high!" I said, stretching my hand toward the ceiling.
"I love you THIS high!" she said, trying to stretch her hand toward the ceiling, too.
"I love you to the ends of the universe!" I said.
"And I love you down to the basement!" she said.
"I love you 100 million!" I exclaimed.
"I love you 516!" she yelled.
"I love your hair!" she continued.
"I love your face!" I said.
"I love you all the way back to rainbow colors!" she said.
And so on. It was quite entertaining. And touching.
Pre-ballet slippers!
Drew took Rachel to buy ballet slippers yesterday while I spent the afternoon with my friends Deni and Miriam. Deni's husband spends half the year in Africa leading various seed-cleaning projects (he and Deni farmed organically in Oregon way before the movement took hold and got out of it years ago, with the only remnant of that life being the amazing produce they grow in their backyard in rural Canby. Deni is a fabulous cook and interior decorator; going to her house is like visiting an elegant B&B) and she gets lonely when Coop (her husband) is gone, so she invitied Miriam and me to sample some of the amazing soups she's made and frozen this year.
We had a great time, topped off by many mimosas and a soak in Deni's hot tub before everyone tried out a new spice cake recipe I used to make spice cake with frosting. We all loved it; it will be my go-to dessert this winter, I think. Plus I get a lot of sound child-rearing advice from Miriam (whose daughter is a few years out of college) and Deni (who has grown kids and almost-teenage grandkids) and they get a kick out of hearing Rachel stories.
When I got home Rachel insisted I help her put on her ballet slippers, which she wore all evening. We practiced "pizza feet" (first position) and holding our hands in a graceful arch above our heads. I plan to accompany her and Drew to ballet class one Saturday and watch her be cute as can be.
Rachel sayings. This relates to the fact that she peed in her sleep on Saturday night but somehow didn't wet the sheets:
"I was shouting and shouting 'cuz I need to tell you I goed pee in my pants. I didn't pee on the sheets. I didn't want you to get upset. I had an askidenk."
***
When it looked like the sun was going to come out briefly on Sunday morning:
"Hello, golden sun! Come out and play with us! I want to see how pretty you are!"
***
We are introducing Rachel to little logic puzzles of our own making. So on Sunday, Drew asked her the classic question: "If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, did it really fall?" She was so delighted by this that she insisted we go around the table and make up a couple more.
Here was her offering:
"If a scone breaks and a little girl says, 'it's OK!' then it's still there."
We had a great time, topped off by many mimosas and a soak in Deni's hot tub before everyone tried out a new spice cake recipe I used to make spice cake with frosting. We all loved it; it will be my go-to dessert this winter, I think. Plus I get a lot of sound child-rearing advice from Miriam (whose daughter is a few years out of college) and Deni (who has grown kids and almost-teenage grandkids) and they get a kick out of hearing Rachel stories.
When I got home Rachel insisted I help her put on her ballet slippers, which she wore all evening. We practiced "pizza feet" (first position) and holding our hands in a graceful arch above our heads. I plan to accompany her and Drew to ballet class one Saturday and watch her be cute as can be.
Rachel sayings. This relates to the fact that she peed in her sleep on Saturday night but somehow didn't wet the sheets:
"I was shouting and shouting 'cuz I need to tell you I goed pee in my pants. I didn't pee on the sheets. I didn't want you to get upset. I had an askidenk."
***
When it looked like the sun was going to come out briefly on Sunday morning:
"Hello, golden sun! Come out and play with us! I want to see how pretty you are!"
***
We are introducing Rachel to little logic puzzles of our own making. So on Sunday, Drew asked her the classic question: "If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, did it really fall?" She was so delighted by this that she insisted we go around the table and make up a couple more.
Here was her offering:
"If a scone breaks and a little girl says, 'it's OK!' then it's still there."
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Pre-ballet!
For some time we've been talking to Rachel about registering her for a pre-ballet class. (Plus we want to keep up her swim lessons, and maybe introduce her to soccer and rock climbing. Oh, the places she'll go!!) Because we are slacker parents, we only got around to signing her up on Thursday night. Swim lessons for the next level up are closed; we'll have to resume in December. Drew promised to spend time with her in the pool before then so she'll continue to get more comfortable in the water.
Today was her first pre-ballet class. We didn't bother buying a tutu or slippers or a leotard because we wanted to see if she'd like the class first. So she and Drew left this morning with Rachel wearing a lovely skirt that Aunt Kay and Uncle Jack gave her for her birthday last year, tights, her "fancy shoes" and a short-sleeve shirt. She looked adorable.
The verdict? "That was GREAT!" Rachel said to Drew when it was over. The teacher, Sandy, has been instructing kids for 18 years. The class was at a rec center kind of a haul from our house, but worth it. Rachel is learning first position, second position and releve. She's the youngest kid in the class and apparently the only one who hasn't done ballet before. Which is good, I told Drew, because it gives her an incentive to catch up to the other kids as far as skill levels go.
Best of all: The 8-week session concludes with a DANCE RECITAL on Nov. 19th! I can't wait. That will give me an excuse to buy a video camera, because I really want to start capturing Rachel on video, and my Smartphone's video feature just won't cut it.
Cute Rachel sayings so far today:
We all woke up late this morning, which means we didn't get up until around 9 or so, and Drew hopped in to the shower before Rachel came out of her bedroom. Which is good, because we needed the sleep. (I got home late from work, so we ate dinner at 8:30 and got ice cream afterward so Rachel went to bed very very late). When we were eating breakfast, Rachel said:
"When I woke up I saw nobody and I was so hungry. So so hungry, and I thought, 'hmmm, where did everybody go? I think they're hiding.' My tummy was so so hungry. It was whining!"
***
"When I grow up I'm going to have children," Rachel announced.
"How many children are you going to have?" Drew asked.
"A little boy and a little girl. The girl will be Abigail and the boy will be David and the sister will be Abby Cadaddy. Little boy, little girl, Mommy and little sister!"
Notice there is no mention of a daddy....
Today was her first pre-ballet class. We didn't bother buying a tutu or slippers or a leotard because we wanted to see if she'd like the class first. So she and Drew left this morning with Rachel wearing a lovely skirt that Aunt Kay and Uncle Jack gave her for her birthday last year, tights, her "fancy shoes" and a short-sleeve shirt. She looked adorable.
The verdict? "That was GREAT!" Rachel said to Drew when it was over. The teacher, Sandy, has been instructing kids for 18 years. The class was at a rec center kind of a haul from our house, but worth it. Rachel is learning first position, second position and releve. She's the youngest kid in the class and apparently the only one who hasn't done ballet before. Which is good, I told Drew, because it gives her an incentive to catch up to the other kids as far as skill levels go.
Best of all: The 8-week session concludes with a DANCE RECITAL on Nov. 19th! I can't wait. That will give me an excuse to buy a video camera, because I really want to start capturing Rachel on video, and my Smartphone's video feature just won't cut it.
Cute Rachel sayings so far today:
We all woke up late this morning, which means we didn't get up until around 9 or so, and Drew hopped in to the shower before Rachel came out of her bedroom. Which is good, because we needed the sleep. (I got home late from work, so we ate dinner at 8:30 and got ice cream afterward so Rachel went to bed very very late). When we were eating breakfast, Rachel said:
"When I woke up I saw nobody and I was so hungry. So so hungry, and I thought, 'hmmm, where did everybody go? I think they're hiding.' My tummy was so so hungry. It was whining!"
***
"When I grow up I'm going to have children," Rachel announced.
"How many children are you going to have?" Drew asked.
"A little boy and a little girl. The girl will be Abigail and the boy will be David and the sister will be Abby Cadaddy. Little boy, little girl, Mommy and little sister!"
Notice there is no mention of a daddy....
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