Quiet day

I woke up this morning completely wacked out and groggy from the pain meds I took last night. I slept until 9:30 (Rachel woke us up at 8:30 but Drew told her to be quiet so Mommy could sleep) and when I staggered into the kitchen at 10, I still didn't feel completely awake. Drew left for a weekend shift in Seattle at 11:30, so I had just enough time to shower before he took off.

Rachel helped me make a pie crust for a chocolate silk pie I was making for my friend, Anne, who came over to dinner tonight. Anne's husband died in August 2010 and I like to invite her over every few weeks so she knows her friends won't forget her. I had wanted to make a beef tenderloin from a NY Times recipe, but when I got to New Seasons I was appalled at the price ($46 for 2 pounds!! Are you KIDDING ME?!?!?) and I settled for a rack of lamb instead.

So, after Rachel poured in all the ingredients for the pie crust, I let her pulse the food processor for a while -- she got a total kick out of it. Then all of a sudden I was exhausted, and I need sleep RIGHT NOW, so I grabbed one of Rachel's bigger blankets and lay down on the loveseat in the living room. She joined me after saying, "I'm VERY TIRED," and we both curled up and fell asleep in each others' arms, just like two little kitties. When I woke up it was 3:45 and I still had to roll out the crust, chill it, bake it, prepare the lamb, wrap Anne's Christmas gift (some soaps), set the table, etc. Luckily Rachel was happy to color in the kitchen while I got everything prepared. And -- surely a Hanukkah miracle! -- dinner was served at 7 p.m.: lamb (perfect ruby red), latkes (still hot), baked cherry tomatoes (part of the lamb dish) and chocolate silk pie with fresh whipped cream. Rachel liked the lamb (I called it "lamb steak") and Anne took a second helping of chocolate pie. There's enough left for Drew to sample it when he returns tomorrow afternoon.

After dinner Rachel got extremely whiny for my attention; at one point she kept yelling, "Mommy! Mommy!" and I went over to her, leaned into her face and said, "STOP IT. Just STOP IT." So she was sobbing loudly when Anne left. I'm sure Anne, who has no children, was extremely glad to be childless at that particular moment.

Then I hurried Rachel to wash, brush and get into her jammies, all the while being short and uncommunicative. She kept crying until she got into her jammies and climbed into my lap in the glider.

"Why are you crying, sweetie?" I asked.
"Because I wanted to cuddle with you more" (in the kitchen before Anne left).
"Why is it so important for you to cuddle with me?" I asked.
"Because it keeps me warm," she sniffled. "And it reminds me that I love you."

Well, what could I say? We read a book, and I lay down next to her in bed -- only to have her start whining that her foot was outside her blanket. "Well, just tuck it back in," I said, crossly, and then asked her if she wanted me to stay.

"Yes or no?" I asked.
She made a noise that I couldn't understand; it sounded like a teenage grunt.
"Yes or no?" I demanded.
Same noise.

"OK, I'm leaving," I announced, swinging my still-sore knee over her bed and leaving. She started crying, loudly, but I ignored it and soon she was asleep.