Rachel's special Shabbat blessing

Rachel has added a fourth blessing to our Shabbat routine. Tonight it was just her and me, since Drew is waiting for us in Seattle where we will spend the next few days with Anne, David and Grandma Jean.

"Bless Mommy and Daddy and Uncle David and Auntie Anne and Grandma Jean and PopPop and Mammaw...and Grandma and Grandpa."

"And Tia Daniella..." I whispered.
"And Tia Daniella and Valerie and Zhou Zhou," she said.
"And Auntie Amanda and Auntie Jenn...." I added.
"And Auntie Amanda and Auntie Jenn," she said.

I was so charmed, even if it does sound like the end of The Lord's Prayer.

***

As soon as we got home from preschool, Rachel and I started making treats to bring up north (I'm leaving them a secret until we get there), which took about an hour and we'll finish up tomorrow morning. The coolest thing was when Rachel broke apart an egg all by herself! (She's still too nervous to crack it against the bowl, which I was, too, for a long time, so I can't really blame her). She was very proud of herself for keeping the eggshell out of the mix of ingredients, and even when some shell fell in she just helped me scoop the pieces out. Pretty soon I'll haul her along on catering jobs. She can grow up saying she was Mommy's sous chef!

***

Rachel was very proud of packing her little suitcase to head to Seattle last night. Good thing I checked, since she had forgotten dresses, and stockings, and shoes. The only stuff in there was a book, a stuffed animal, a coloring book, markers...and five neatly arranged pairs of underwear. That kid cracks me up.

Rachel observations

This morning at breakfast:

"I had a dream," Rachel said. "Giada (one of her little preschool friends) came into school and she said she celebrated Hanukkah, but she had a Christmas shirt on (Rachel chortled). I said 'No, you celebrate Christmas. You just wanna be like me."

(Apparenly Giada is, in fact, Jewish, according to Rachel. I have yet to confirm this).

***

Rachel started a little rhyme this morning:

I'm sitting in my chair
I'm waiting for a bear
I'm in my underwear....

Later she said, "I took my silly pills today."
Me: You certainly did!

***

Tonight Rachel announced, "I'm going to marry Noah."
"Noah? Why?" I asked.
"Because he's such a nice boy," she answered.

Yes, I'm living with a Jewish grandmother.

Peacock Lane

Peacock Lane is a street of houses in Southeast Portland that, at Christmastime, is filled with over-the-top decorations and lights that are worth a detour. I had been dying to take Rachel sometime this month, and tonight I got my chance.

She gasped and oohed and aahed at all the festivity, and she insisted on trying to take a picture, so I finally gave her my Droid and let her shoot. She did a pretty good job and I'd like to encourage the habit, so I'll probably hand her my real digital camera this weekend (when we'll be at Anne and David and Jean's) and let her try a few.

Otherwise, parts of the day were a little rough. As I was dropping her off at preschool today, she leaned in to me and said, "My biggest wish is for you to go back home and bring me Dottie (her stuffed orca)." I was tempted to -- I'm working from home at a relaxed pace this week because I'm really not supposed to be working at all -- but I decided to hold firm and said no. It was so hard to watch her eyes well up and have her start sobbing, but I don't want her to get the idea that Mommy will just run home and get whatever she forgot for school. Soon enough she'll have homework, and science projects, and the sooner she learns she has to assume responsibility, the better.

That still didn't stop me from feeling like a Mean Old Mommy, however.

At bedtime I agreed to read her a long book, and I read the entire Nutcracker and she started her delaying tactics again -- hugging, cuddling, trying to tell me things -- until, after 10 minutes, I told her that I was getting very frustrated with her, especially since SHE was the one who told me she wanted to get to bed early because she didn't want to be cranky (and I am sick and tired of not getting her to bed until 10, which is way too late for a little girl to be up at night). She started crying and said, "I don't like being scolded," and I said I didn't like it when she didn't listen. I cuddled in bed with her for a bit and sang, but then she started whining about how she really wanted to sleep in my bed, because my bed is more comfortable, especially our gold duvet cover, and I had had enough. I got up, went to the door and told her sternly that if she kept complaining, she wouldn't get books at bedtime anymore. "Do you understand?" I said firmly. When she didn't answer I said, "I can't hear you," and she said, "yes," and started snuffling, and I just closed the door without saying "I love you" or any of my usual nighttime sentiments.

Sometimes I feel I don't have enough patience with Rachel, or at least as much patience as Drew seems to have, but I told her I had work to do (and it's true, the only time I get things done around here when Drew is gone is when Rachel goes to bed) and it angers me when that doesn't register.

I still felt remorseful, though, and after 10 minutes or so of hearing her talking to herself I opened the door. Good thing I did -- she was sitting up in bed talking to Sophie, one of her dolls, and when I asked her what she was doing she said she didn't feel tired. I tucked her in with Sophie, her pink penguin, "the orcas, the dolls..." she said, reciting all her little friends she goes to sleep with -- kissed her, and then she hugged me close, and that was that.

Rachel's plea to Mommy

At the breakfast table this morning, Rachel said she thinks her class may be close to winning a birthday cake party. I asked if that would mean I'd need to bake a cake, and she said no, Patricia -- the school's cook -- would make it.

"We need a break of cakes, Mommy," Rachel said.
"Why?" I asked.
"You've been working so hard," she said. "Mom, can you please skip work? Just for one day? Please work from home. Please."

That kid knows me so well, it's scary.

Some things Rachel said on the drive home tonight

Linda kindly let Rachel choose a toy from a toy box in Jack and Andrew's room, and she chose a stuffed orca she named, "Dottie," (which comes out sounding like "Daddy").

On the way home she said, "Guess how old Dottie is?"
Me: 8!
Drew: 15!
Me: 45!
"It sounds like 'fff,'" Rachel said.
Drew: 15!
Me: 50!
"Guess again!" Rachel said.
"I'm out of guesses," I answered.
"Infinity!" Rachel said. "She's infinity years old!"

Drew remarked how amazing it is that our kid knows what infinity means.

Christmas Day festivities

This morning began with a great memory card game that Mom and Dad gave Rachel for her birthday called "Sequence for Kids." It involves laying cards down on the floor and turning them upside down to see which ones match each other, and whoever ends up with the most matching cards wins. "Do you want to play, Mommy?" Rachel asked me. Drew was already sprawled out on the floor, ready to play, and I said, "Sure!" and I was glad I did (for once), because I discovered that my daughter has a phenomenal memory. The kid cleaned my clock even after she gave me a couple of pairs she'd won, just to make me feel better. (Uncle David said tonight that he noticed Rachel has a very strong sense of empathy even at a young age, and that it will stay with her forever; her willingness to help me with the card game demonstrated that).
Final score: Lisa 6, Drew 7, Rachel 9. She didn't even rub it in our faces that she won.

Now I know why Drew spent so much time playing all those princess card games with Rachel a year ago; he was helping her develop her memory. I thought they were just silly cards and I often wished we could throw them away because they kept ending up everywhere, but Drew knew exactly what he was doing which is why Rachel will do well on standardized tests and why Drew is clearly the better parent.

We Skyped with PopPop and MawMaw this morning and had a lovely time -- hopefully we will be able to visit them at their house sometime in 2013!

Then Drew went out to run a few errands while Rachel and I baked a yellow cake with Alice's chocolate frosting recipe. Rachel was brave enough to try to crumble the egg yolk into the bowl after asking me to crack it along the edge. She's nearing the age at which I can trust her to bake a cake mostly by herself, which is hard to believe. Both of us ended up having more cake crumbs and frosting than was strictly good for us (i.e., I kind of forgot to feed us both lunch, but we'd had a late breakfast of Grandma Jean's cinnamon rolls and bacon so I figured that would last us until Christmas dinner and Doug and Linda's). Rachel helped me decorate the cake with green and red sprinkles and sugared flowers, and then we headed to Tigard.

We really had a great time  -- for the first time, Rachel actually played with Jack and Andrew (or sat quietly watching them while they played video games and watched "Kung Fu Panda"). It was so cute to see her sitting near them with her red and black party dress billowing around her. The turkey, stuffing, potatoes, salad and dinner rolls were fantastic and everyone loved the cake -- we had only one slice left! -- and Rachel even asked, quite nicely, if she could have another piece. (I had to say no, since she'd eaten three dinner rolls and not a lot of turkey). The adults sat and talked and talked and talked and before I realized it, Drew was mouthing "Five minutes!' silently to me, I looked at the clock and it was 8:15. I absolutely hated to go; I could have stayed there another two hours (and Rachel was quite disappointed that she couldn't watch the rest of "Kung Fu Panda"), but we will see David, Anne and Jean for New Year's and I told Linda we need to get together for a playdate sometime in January or February. It would be great if we could go to an indoor playpark, like Playdate PDX, and just hang out for a few hours on a cold and rainy Saturday or Sunday.

As we left, Drew and I remarked how lucky it is that we have such a wonderful little girl who is growing up secure in the fact that she is loved by many, many people. When you get right down to it, nothing else really matters.

Rachel's story, Part 2

...here is the correct version of the story that Rachel told me yesterday and re-told to Drew today. She assures both of us that she totally made it up:

"Once upon a time there was a girl named Arabella and she really wanted to take violin lessons. But her parents said no. So one day she was walking past the store and she saw a little violin in the window just her size and it was only 10 dollars. Isn't that so cheap? So she ran back to her parents and said, '"There's a violin that's only 10 dollars!" and her parents ran back and said, "Arabella was right!" So her parents checked it out and they paid for the violin and went home. But then Arabella put it on her table and she watched in amazement as the bow started playing the violin all by itself. It was so weird. Then her parents called her for dinner. Arabella came in and in the middle of dinner she said, "May I please be excused?" Her parents let her be excused so Arabella went to her room and she saw the violin playing beautiful music. So she peeked through the strings and she saw a ghost right through the violin. So she ran and told her parents and they saw it too.

Arabella had an idea. She started playing it and when the ghost was about to say something, she threw the violin on the floor and the ghost screamed in pain and the ghost flew out of the window.

The end."

Amazing things Rachel said today

Rachel has been unusually...needy? Whiny? Weepy? the past day or so. I think that's because she loves having Anne and David and Jean visit and so she tends to monopolize all their attention, and she doesn't seem to understand that sometimes they want a break (as do Drew and I) and she can't be the center of everything all the time. So, that tends to manifest itself in her acting out in the fairly mild way she does -- she never throws temper tantrums, but she does tend to stamp her feet, whine and become rude -- and so both Drew and I have had to take her aside and explain that she needs to be respectful of other peoples' time and energy levels.

This morning was one of those times. At breakfast I had to get up and take her into her room, and I sat in the glider and cuddled with her and said that she needs to know that Anne and David don't have children and so they're not used to her energy and she needs to give them a rest once in a while. That somehow evolved into a conversation about...well, I'll try to rehash it here.

"Most of my friends don't like their parents," Rachel said. "I'm the only one who likes their parents."
"Doesn't Sadie like her parents?" I asked. (Sadie is a member of the Rachel Posse at preschool).
"No," Rachel said.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because they call her a tattletale," she said.
"Why do they do that?" I asked. "Sadie doesn't have a brother or sister."
"Because she tattles on her parents to each one," she said.
Oh.
"How about Devin? Doesn't she like her parents?" I asked.
"No," Rachel said. "They always tell her what to do."
"Well, we tell you what to do," I said.
Then she added that she doesn't expect us to buy her things all the time, "just on July 11th" (her birthday).

***

"I know how to play the violin," Rachel announced, and indeed she remembered getting a taste of it during a demonstration at Multnomah Days, a neighborhood festival we attended last May.
"Do you want to learn an instrument?" I asked. "Which one?"
"A saxophone," she said.
"A saxophone??!!" I said. "Why?"
"Because it's jazzy and exciting," she said.
"Um, I think you're too little right now," I said. "The saxophone is probably as big as you are!"
Then she changed her mind and said, "I want to play the violin," so maybe we'll see about getting her lessons this winter.

***

Rachel informed me that today she was going to tell ME a story and she made this one up. I'm trying to recreate it as best as I can:

"Once upon a time there was a girl named Bella and she wanted violin lessons. Her parents said they weren't sure, but then she asked and asked and they said okay. When she got the violin home she put it on her dresser and then an odd thing happened. She couldn't find it! It had moved. So she looked around the room and found it in another place, and then it moved again. So then she looked inside and she saw a ghost! It waggled its butt at her and then she took the violin and threw it to the ground, and then the ghost flew up into the air and disappeared. And that was the end."

She has the storytelling gene, this one.

Fun with Anne and David and Jean

Today was a rare day of sunshine, so we all decided to make the most of it. After a great breakfast of Grandma Jean's cinnamon rolls (which I told her I can't seem to find the equivalent of anywhere -- I ordered one at a restaurant last week and it was quite disappointing) and bacon, Drew headed downstairs to work (ugh; he believes he was the only reporter on duty today and ended up writing a story), Anne, David, Rachel and I went for a walk through the neighborhood to Grant Park. Usually Rachel whines about how far it is, but this time the message was clear -- she'd have to put up with it. When we got there we played a great game of kickball/soccer, and Rachel stunned me by stopping the ball with her foot on top several times, just the way real soccer players do! I have no idea where she picked that up. I kept referring to her as "Rachel DeSilver!' Number six!" because six is her favorite number, and all of a sudden I had a vision of Drew and I cheering her on at a soccer game someday. I plan on taking a Thermos full of hot chocolate and schnapps on those cold, rainy Oregon Saturdays to make the watching more bearable...

Then Rachel played on the play structure with Anne and David (thank you for being such good sports, guys!) and we all walked home when it started to turn cold. I made everyone homemade hot chocolate (Anne and I took ours with peppermint schnapps) and we munched on crackers, cheese and proscuitto (Rachel likes it, much to my surprise) until it was almost time to go.

Anne and David then kindly helped Drew and I with a project I had just dreamed up the other day -- getting the Belgian carpet that Mom and Dad once had in their apartment in 6F, in the Whitehall, into our bedroom. Drew and I have dragged it around from residence to residence, reluctant to lay it down because it's so big and has a couple of stains on it (probably from my throwup or Daniella's); we've had it professionally cleaned to no avail. But I never felt as if I could give it away or sell it, because Mom and Dad gave it to me and it's from Belgium, and it's the only tangible connection I have with that country. Anyway, the other night I decided we needed to put it in our bedroom or get rid of it for good. It took about an hour, and all of our strength, Anne, David, Drew and I finally got it down with the bed and dresser positioned on top of it. It looks, Drew says, like we have a grown-up bedroom. I never thought he minded having the white throw rugs, but apparently he did.

And another odd thing happened -- as soon as I got the rug vacuumed and the bed made up again (we had to take most of it apart to get the rug under it) -- I felt as if I'd gotten part of my childhood back. There's a photo of me on our living room bookcase with Dad's arms around me when I was 9 months old and we were playing in the living room. Later it ended up in Mom and Dad's bedroom, and when they moved to 8K and then to Mt. Kisco, it disappeared. At some point they gave it to me, and now it's in my bedroom, where Rachel will remember it, and then we'll give it to her one day...and the cycle goes on.

Happy holidays!!!

Lovely dinner tonight with Anne, David and Jean. I considered it my make-up Thanksgiving dinner, since I still feel guilty about cutting out on Turkey Day (even though everyone was understanding about my trip to Africa) and I promise that next year, the Lednicer/DeSilver Thanksgiving extravaganza will return!

Anyway...

Today was incredibly relaxing and stress-free even though the weather sucked. We got most of the housecleaning done last night so all we had to do was pull out the table and set it. That left me time to get a manicure, pedicure and brow wax AND finish baking the chocolate silk pie AND post two items to the blog earlier today. Drew ran out to a cheese place and came back with lovely cheese and crackers, and I put out a bunch of snacks, and all we had to was wait for Anne, David and Jean to arrive. When they got here we had a roaring fire, and we all sat around and relaxed while Drew started the roast lamb and rosemary potatoes. I even got a chance to nap while Rachel monopolized David with card games and her Pinkalicous book. It's cool how they can actually play cards together and have conversations, and I think David gets a kick out of her. Just before we sat down to dinner, he fell asleep on the loveseat, Rachel curled up in his arms and asleep, too. I turned out the light and all you could see was them snuggled up together and it was BEYOND ADORABLE.

David also gave Rachel the best gift ever: His baseball glove, with his name in faded ink. They immediately went upstairs to play and all I could hear were her shrieks of laughter. Hopefully it will help hear earn a softball scholarship to Stanford. Or Harvard!

Everyone loved the dinner, and Rachel as usual was well-behaved, until it was time to go to bed and then she whimpered, "I want Uncle AIRPLANE!" (her nickname for David).  Now she's lying on the floor next to me in her sleeping bag talking to her stuffed animal, Lady (her sleeping bag in the shape of a ladybug -- thank you again Darryl and Daniella!) and I am finishing up this post. Drew and Rachel and I are sleeping in the basement tonight while Anne, David and Jean are upstairs -- it makes more sense for everyone.

Happy holidays everyone!

Those KIDS!

We Skyped this morning with Tia Daniella, Zhou Zhou and Valerie. I'm describing it as a group conversation, but it was more like a two-way between Duckie and TLG (The Little Girl). During our 45-minute talk, the following things happened:

--Duckie showed us her "snockings" (stockings) and then her bare feet. That kid has a foot fetish.

--They both sang versions of The Dreidel Song that have no basis in reality. As in, "Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel/I made you out of toast/And when you're hot and buttered/That's when I love you most" (Rachel) and "Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel/I made you out of garbage..." (Duckie's version, we're not sure how the rest goes). 

--Rachel insisted on showing Duckie her newest unicorn, Princess Luna. Then Duckie brought out the unicorn carousel. Then Rachel brought in her "My Little Pony" collection. Then Duckie brought out one of her ponies...you can see that this is an escalating arms race of ponies/unicorns/fairies/princesses/etc. Heaven knows what it will be in a couple of years. Purses? Jewelry?

--Then each girl ran to her room and put on their princess clothes. Duckie wore a gorgeous pink princess dress with a crown and ruby red slippers; Rachel got into a leotard with a tutu attacked and a crown of flowers in her hair, both gifts from Grandma and Grandpa and Amanda & Jenn. Needless to say, they both looked ADORABLE. I am quaking at the idea of both of them going out arm in arm to hit the New York club scene when they're, oh, 18 or so. Stunning in their own individual ways, they will make quite a pair attracting men by the score.

Daniella and I agreed that it would be really great if they could just regularly compare clothes and toys in real life, which means that I guess we'd need to move to Queens to make the process easier. I had a vision of us piling all of Rachel's possessions in the car and driving over to Daniella and Darryl's apartment and unloading it so the girls could have a feast of dresses and toys. And then Daniella and Darryl and Duckie doing the same thing at our house a few miles (or blocks) away.

Perfect Saturday

Wow, what a terrific day we had yesterday! Rachel's preschool had a cookie decorating and movie party from 12 p.m. to 4 p.m., which gave Drew and I time to catch the latest James Bond movie, "Skyfall," (TOTALLY AWESOME) and order a rod with which to hang a gorgeous wall hanging I brought back from the South Africa Jewish Museum. Anyone who visits us from the end of January on will have a chance to see it, since it will take about three weeks for the rod to get here.

Then we had arranged a surprise for Rachel -- going to see Zoolights at the Oregon Zoo with her friend Lila Anne -- but it was raining so we switched to Playdate PDX, a great indoor playpark that I've blogged about before. The girls had a lot of fun chasing Drew, playing hide-and-go seek with Drew, while Steve and Suzanne, Lila Anne's parents, kept Lila Anne's sister, 1-year-old Eva, busy. I got a chance to have long conversations with both of them, who were very interested in my trip to Africa. We stayed until around 7 or so, and Rachel was very sad to leave but cheered up when we got to Kenny & Zuke's, our favorite approximation of a New York deli. We had a good dinner, then Drew put Rachel to bed while I made pie crust for the chocolate silk pie I'm making tonight for dessert when Anne, David and Jean get here. We're also having lamb shoulder, red potatoes with rosemary, and a salad. I love having family stay with us for the holidays!

***

Rachel saved a cookie that she wanted Drew and me to share, but then decided she wanted to give some of it to Lila Anne. So after we finished at Playdate PDX, they both walked to our car together to Rachel could share the cookie. During their walk, Rachel said:

"Friendship is forever."
Lila: "I wish we could live in the same house."
Rachel: "Then you could be my big sister!" (it's true, Lila Anne is slightly older than Rachel).
Lila Anne: "We could be twins!"

The girls had a good laugh over that one!

***

As we were heading to Kenny & Zuke's, Rachel said, "I hate sleeping! It's BORING!"
Drew and I tried to explain to her that sleep is a very, very good thing (trust me, we know from personal experience) and that kids need sleep to get big and strong.

"Sleep is BORING!" Rachel repeated. "You can't read books, or play with toys, or even color! All you can do is lie there and pretend you're DEAD!"

Not much to say after that. When I told this to my friend David Jones, who has no kids, he cracked up.

Responsible Rachel

After getting herself up and dressed this morning, Rachel -- while I was getting ready for work and Drew was downstairs showering -- dragged one of the kitchen table chairs to the counter and STARTED SETTING THE TABLE FOR BREAKFAST. She got very frustrated when she couldn't reach the cereal bowls, so Drew helped her a little. He also helped her with the plates.

"I"m very proud of you, Rachel," I said. "Not only did you set the breakfast table but you did it without even me asking!"

I always want her to know how proud we are of her when she assumes responsibility.

Later she told Drew, "Because you people do so much of the work around here, I need to do more work."

Is it any wonder we love her to pieces??

***

We're heading to a holiday party tonight at our friend Deni's house, and Drew asked Rachel if she wanted to bring her party dress to school to change into later. She said no.

"Miriam and Deni love me no matter what I wear," she said.

True, that.

Holidays!

Rachel is having quite the time at school these days. Yesterday she brought in chocolate covered toffee bars that I had baked for her class (the other half of the pan went to my chorus buddies for our holiday party) and they had the bars with hot chocolate for morning snack. Then last night she told me the following about Princess Luna, the unicorn my friend Amy gave her:

"Apparently Princess Luna turned into Nightmare Moon and she took all the color and light out of Ponyville. But they light sparkles got the color and shine back by putting the four limits of friendship back together and Nightmare Moon turned back into Luna. That's the end."

I have no idea what any of the above means. Probably it's a coded message on how to survive the Mayan prophecy that the end of the world is nigh...

***

Rachel's school had a book exchange today and she got a book about...the Easter Bunny. Sigh. She wasn't very happy.

"There was one thing about the book exchange I didn't like," Rachel said at dinner tonight.
"What?" I asked.
"I liked the book Sloane got," she said. "It was a big green book and it had lots of stories in it, even Tarzan. And I LOVE Tarzan!"
"You love Tarzan?" I said, astonished.
"Yeah," she said. "I like superheroes. They always win!"

So tempted to rent "The Avengers," but she probably isn't ready....

Grandpa, this post is for you

...Not so long ago, I used to love annoying the hell out of my dad when I'd ask him cheeky questions like, "Did you have to take the SATs when you were in high school?" and "Did they have Oreos when you were growing up?" Questions that I knew would make him feel old.

I was a rotten kid.

Well, Dad, tonight you got your revenge.

Rachel and I were talking about cotton candy while I was doing the dishes and she was finishing up dessert (chocolate chip cake), and I said I've never liked it -- too sweet.
"Did you like cotton candy when you were a little girl?" Rachel asked.
"Actually, I did," I admitted.

Inspired, Rachel then asked, "Tell me what they have now but they didn't have when you were a little girl."
"Uh...Pinkalicious," I said.
"They didn't have PINKALICIOUS?!" she cried.
"No, I said. "I would have LOVED it if they'd had Pinkalicious."

Pause.

"Mommy?" Rachel asked, concern in her voice. "Do you want to borrow my Pinkalicious book? For one night?"

I said no, of course, but I couldn't help thinking that we've already gotten to the "tell me what life was like when you were young," stage of parenting. I thought that was a few years off, Dad. Sigh...

***

Rachel greeted me at school tonight with a beautifully wrapped present. When I opened it I found a clay disc painted purple with her handprint pressed into it. A more beautiful gift I cannot imagine.

After I oohed and aahed (truthfully!) over it, she announced that it was for me AND Daddy. When I whined a bit that I didn't want to share (I had already started calculating how I could hang it near my desk at work), she told me severely that I HAVE to share it with Drew.

"a), because sharing is caring," she said sternly. "And b), if you don't share it, I'm gonna take it away."

I couldn't help but burst out laughing. "Rachel, you're ready to be a mommy right NOW," I said.

Recovery

I may have caught up on most of my sleep from my trip to Africa, but it appears Rachel is still emotional about me being gone for (in her mind) so long. Tonight we went to Powell's and she fell asleep in the car on the way home. I came inside, changed clothes, unloaded the dish drainer and got dinner going before waking her up. She had trouble waking up all the way -- unusual for her, she's usually quite cheerful after her catnaps -- and then she couldn't seem to stop fretting and weeping. Finally I took her in my arms and we cuddled in the glider in her bedroom.

"I want mama," she whined.
"Mama's here," I reassured her. "Mama's always here."
"Except when you're on a long trip," she shot back.

What could I say? It took 15 minutes of cuddling before she started insisting that my sweater was too scratchy -- this was the sweater she had cuddled against and then announced "I'm going to switch sides," and moved from my left to my right. The weepiness continued as she set the table and we sat down to dinner. "You're the preciousest thing in the world!" she exclaimed before tucking in to chicken, challah and carrots. "Even more precious that a jewel. Even more precious than my Pinkalicious book!"

Now, THAT'S high praise!

***

During dinner Rachel commented that the princess Band-Aid I'd asked her to put on my finger a few days ago was gone. I also remarked that the Band-Aid on her knee was gone, too (she had tripped while our friends David, Laura and their son Graham were over for Hanukkah dinner last Thursday night).

"It was a very bad trip!" Rachel reminded me tonight. "It was startling and painful!"

Rachel asks for a story

She got into bed with me this morning and said, "tell me a story. I'm getting bored of Rachel and Valerie, so tell me another one."

"What do you want it to be about?" I asked.

"A mermaid," she answered.

Once upon a time, a mermaid named Rachel wasn't satisfied with her life underseas and wanted to go above the water. Her mom and dad reluctantly let me do so for one day as long as I came back that same day. On that day she swam to the surface, her mom and dad shoved her forward onto the beach, she found her fishtail disappearing and legs replacing them, then she caught a bus into town and then decided to go into a theater that was doing The Nutcracker. She went inside to see and it was so lovely that we stayed until the end, then went to find the ballet mistress. The ballet mistress is the one in charge of the ballerinas....

"I know, Mommy," Rachel interrupted.

"Anyway, Rachel told her how beautiful the performance was, and the ballet mistress invited her to audition for the ballet for next year. So Rachel caught a bus back to the beach near the boardwalk, then dove into the water and swam back to her parents and told them how beautiful the ballet was and now much she wanted to audition for a part for next year's ballet. Her parents were very reluctant but finally gave in. So the next day Rachel swam to the surface where her parents shoved her onto the beach, then she took a bus and went back to the theater, and told the ballet mistress that she wanted to audition. The ballet mistress hadn't thought Rachel would want to audition THAT DAY, so she consulted with the head of the ballet company. Finally they let her audition and she got a part, and then Rachel went back to the ocean and told her parents, and her parents agreed she could do the part but only for two performances, afternoon and evening, on one day of the year. And that is why, if you watch The Nutcracker very closely, you'll see a tiny mermaid off to the side of Clara and the Prince in Act II, waving her arms from side to side. You never know what performance she'll show up for. That's Amanda, playing her part!"

Chavurah Hanukkah

Part 2 of my post from yesterday: After we got out of Starbucks, we headed home and then on to the monthly meeting of our chavurah at our friend Marc's house in Lake Oswego. Rachel immediately fell in with Marc's two daughters, Lucy and Zoey (Lucy is a few years older than Rachel), and they really seemed delighted to let her hang out with them. I can't say for sure, of course: Rachel disappeared with all the rest of the kids upstairs. Perhaps they were playing video games, or watching unsuitable movies, or smoking pot, or plotting a world revolution. We really don't know.

The theme was Chinese food, although everyone oohed and aahed when I set down my chocolate silk pie, whipped cream and cocoa -- and before we cut into it Rachel insisted on making an announcement. "Ladeez and...gentlemen!" she bellowed as only a 4-year-old girl can. "This pie is by...Mommy!" Whereupon all the kids set upon me like a pack of starving coyotes (you'd think their parents never fed them), and all the adults were left with was three tiny pieces. Sigh...all that work and so little left. Next time I'll bring two.

Toward the end of the evening we played "Super Dreidel," Marc's insanely complicated version of the dreidel game, and Drew said Rachel quickly cleaned up. Not sure how she bested the other kids; they probably let her win.

Anyway...it was a fun and fabulous evening, and a lovely end to a lovely holiday.

Nutcracker!

From the time I knew I was going to have a girl, I dreamed of taking my daughter to The Nutcracker, just like Mom took me when I was little to American Ballet Theatre's production in NYC. I still remember how the crystal lights rose when it was time for the ballet to begin, and the tree that got bigger during Clara's dream, and the place that Mom, Daniella and I ate before the show -- the Footlights Cafe, and they had an awesome triple-layer chocolate cake -- and the fact that it was an all-women's event in our house. In other words, I've wanted to replicate that since I was old enough to be out on my own.

Today I got my wish. The day started with Rachel's class at the Classical Ballet Academy performing in The Nutcracker Sweet Suite, a 45-minute abbreviated version of the classic tale. It was at the Lincoln Hall auditorium at Portland State, and I volunteered to be an usher. Rachel was part of a dragon that danced during the Chinese dancer part of the ballet and she looked beyond adorable in a little pink kimono-like outfit with her hair pulled back into a tiny knot at the top of her head, just like a real ballerina. She looked a little confused onstage and at one point it seemed as if she was trying to figure out where I was. She also concentrated really hard. Altogether it was beyond adorable, and I had to hold myself back from rushing onstage to cover her in hugs and kisses. ("No shouting 'I WANT RACHEL! I WANT RACHEL!'" she instructed me sternly on the way to dress rehearsal. "Ushers don't DO that.").

Drew was waiting for her with a pink rose (all the dancers got a single red rose, and Rachel's teacher, Miss Lauren, gave her a lovely pink box with a mirror inside -- Rachel said her teacher had told her she was the best of all the other dragon parts, and that Rachel was the only one who Miss Lauren gave a present to, although I don't believe that) and then we all went to a place across the street and ate a quick lunch before the REAL Nutcracker began, the one that I had planned to attend with my friend Melissa, her 12-year-old daughter Natalie, who Rachel worships, and Melissa's friend Marian and Marian's 5-year-old son, Grant. Rachel was absolutely delighted with it; she behaved very well, refused a booster seat when I offered her one (she insisted she could see just fine) and hugged Natalie during the scary parts (when the Mouse King attacks the nutcracker and Clara). At one point she said to me, "There's Drosselmeyer!"

"How did you KNOW that?" I asked, astonished.

"Because of his patch," she said. (She meant his eye patch). I finally realized that all her rehearsals, plus the Nutcracker book we read together at night sometimes, has given her a really good idea of the plot so that she could follow along easily. At the end of the matinee, as we were leaving, some of the dancers stationed themselves at the doors to hand out candy.

We all trooped to Starbucks after it was over and had hot chocolate, gingerbread cookies and cake pops. Rachel refused to hold my hand on the way and said to Natalie, "I wish YOU were my mom," and I had to tell her that I wished Natalie were my daughter. Melissa and I got caught up on each other's lives before I noticed it was 5:30 as we had to rush home to get to the monthly social evening with our chavurah (in this case it was a last night of Hanukkah celebration). More on that tomorrow, since I'm beat.

Rachel, uncensored

"What's making you frustrated, Mommy?" Rachel asked me last night.
"How can you tell I'm frustrated?" I asked, genuinely astonished.
"Because you're talking sternly," she answered.

***

When Drew picked Rachel up from school earlier this week, she said, "Wouldn't it be funny if Mommy were as little as I am and she would wear my clothes and her hair was a short as mine was?"

Drew's reply: "So what you're really saying is wouldn't it be funny if Mom could be your twin sister."

Rachel: "YEAH!!"

***

Role reversal? This morning Rachel told me, "Now remember Mommy, you can't dye your hair pink."
"WHY?" I whined. "I love pink hair! I think I'll dye it. Thanks a lot, Rachel!"
"NO!" Rachel shrieked. "DON'T DYE YOUR HAIR!!!"

Unspeakable

I have some cute Rachel sayings from the last few days, but I don't feel much like posting them right now in the wake of the shooting of 20 kindergarteners in Newtown, Connecticut -- kids just a bit older than Rachel, who could have been Drew's and my daughter, and your granddaughter, and niece, and cousin. Instead I'll just talk about what we did tonight and how I tried not to let my depression from today's horrific tragedy spill over into my time with my daughter.

We had planned to go to synagogue for the annual Hanukkah service (sans dinner, which Drew still complains about from last year so I agreed to skip it and just go to the service) but never made it because the restaurant at which we'd planned to eat beforehand, Kenny & Zuke's, was closed because of a party. How anyone could think of going to a party tonight is beyond me, but...whatever. So we went to McMenamin's, a local restaurant chain that is pretty awful, and ordered some basic sandwich-y food. Drew did a great job of keeping it cheerful, and I finally was able to pick up on his mood and join in. (I also got to talk to him about the end of the search for a new law school dean. Starting in January I'll have a new boss, my third in 2 1/2 years, and I'm hoping for the best). Rachel had insisted Drew bring a dress for her to change into, and the dress she chose was one that Anne had given her years ago from when Anne wore it for Easter when she was a child. Rachel is almost old enough to have grown into it, and when she was sitting down tonight at home, the skirt billowed around her and made her look like a beautiful little princess.

When we told Rachel we didn't have time to go to synagogue, her expression drooped and she said, "The rabbi will be so sad. He won't be able to have Shabbat!" because, she added, he always says it isn't Shabbat until Rachel, his "Shabbat Shalom Girl," throws her arms around his legs and gives him a hug.

So we came home and opened presents. Thank you Ruth for the gorgeous purple pinafore (jumper) and to PopPop and MawMaw for the books and jacket. Rachel especially liked "Perky the Pelican" and "The Magic Treehouse." Both of you know exactly what little girls like (I should have realized this because Lil has granddaughters, after all) and you made us all very happy tonight -- like a little light shining through so much darkness.

And then Drew put Rachel to bed while I started making a chocolate silk pie for a Hanukkah party we're attending tomorrow night. I never did get to give her the huge, long hug I'd been fantasizing about at work while watching the tragedy unfold all day on Facebook. But maybe the point is to try to carry on as normal, without any dramatic "I love you" gestures. Maybe.

Rachel and synagogue

Rachel continues to exhibit a deep feeling for Judaism that I can't understand where it came from. Yes, w.e light the Shabbat candles and say the prayers every week, and yes we play CDs with Jewish songs on them but that's about it. Somehow the act of going to synagogue is very meaningful to her even though we mostly go during the summer, when it's held outside, and for holidays (and not even always that).

While I was gone, Rachel told Drew that she wanted to go to synagogue. Somewhat surprised he agreed. But when he picked her up from school that day, she'd changed her mind. She wasn't wearing a fancy dress, she said, and so she didn't feel that she could go because she didn't want the rabbi to see her not wearing a nice dress.

(Keep in mind that our synagogue, while the biggest one in Portland and, for the most part, people dress nicely, still has its share of worshipers who wear jeans. Many kids, to my supreme irritation, wear shorts -- granted, mostly boys -- and the rabbi's 13-year-old daughters, when they're there, also wear jeans or denim skirts. The rabbi and his wife, who also serves as the cantor, always dress formally).

On Thursday, the day after I got back from Africa, I asked Rachel if she wanted to go to synagogue with me this week. She said yes, so on Friday we went. She ended up falling asleep in my lap, which was fine -- she looked so cute when she woke up, gave me a big smile and said, "Thanks, Mommy!" -- and one of the congregants, an older man named Bill who remembers Rachel when she was a baby and is about to become a grandfather himself, remarked that Rachel is so sweet and smart and added, "I'd love to have her (as a grandchild)." I told him he could be her honorary grandfather and he seemed pleased.

On the way home I thanked Rachel for accompanying me to services, and she remarked that she'd like to go every week. Even I don't go every week, of course, so I told her I'd take her once a month. And I note that every time I bring her, I always lug books, markers, crayons and paper with me just in case she gets restless. I've never had to bring them out because Rachel never seems to get bored. Remarkable.

More Rachel sayings

A sample from today:

"The strawberries paraded through the storeroom blowing little horns like this: "Dum dum dum dum," she said at breakfast, pretending to tell me about animated fruit. I thought this would morph into a full-blown story, but unfortunately it didn't.

***

"There needs to be a Hanukkah fairy," Rachel announced at breakfast. "What should her name be?"

"What do YOU think her name should be?" I saied.

"Cheryl," she announced. "And she would have little menorahs coming out of her wand."

***

Today Rachel took my breath away with how grown-up she looked: striped stockings, bright green and blue shoes, a red, blue and green kilt, a brown shirt with tiny pink and white polka dots, and a delicate cream-colored sweater that Mom and Dad had gotten her last year. She had a backpack on and all of a sudden I got one of those flashes that moms everywhere get: My little girl is growing up. I swear she looked like she was 9 or so.

"You're growing up so fast," I said sadly.
"I wish I could," she answered.
"I wish I could what?" I said.
"I would I could stay little, but I can't," she said. "Sorry."

Oh, so am I.

The New Order

Apparently Rachel decided in my absence that some things need changing around here. The first: She now dresses for dinner. For the last three nights she has changed into a nice dress before we sit down to eat, and tonight was no exception -- Hanukkah is a special occasion, she said, so she swapped out her cool outfit of a kilt, a long-sleeve shirt, stockings and bright green shoes (she looks like an NYU undergrad, Drew said, which is a dead-on description) for a short-sleeve maroon velvet number with the necklace I made out of the fairy charm that Anne gave her months ago and that she hasn't worn so I thought she'd forgotten about it. She also insisted we eat in the dining room: "On holidays like Yom Kippur or Hanukkah, we always eat in the dining room because the dining room is fancy and that's a good place to eat dinner."

Um, OK, kid. That means I'll have to work harder to keep the clutter off the table, but I'm perfectly willing to do so. I had no idea we were raising a 19th Century girl in the 21st Century. Oh, well....

***

The other night we went to Powell's after school. Rachel was a little clingy and weepy when I got home, probably because of the all the emotion surrounding my absence and my welcome back. She begged me to buy her a Pinkalicious book, but I held firm and said no (besides the fact that we have no room for hardcover books, I can't afford to buy her a book every time we go to the bookstore). She held it to her chest and announced, "This book is so precious to me. It's like a jewel against my heart."

Later when we were in the car she seemed sad. When I asked her what the matter was, she said severely, "Nothing you need to know." She later admitted she was still upset about me not buying the book.

***

At dinner last night, out of the blue, Rachel said:

"Don't tell me, let me guess. What would you do if Daddy gave you a tissue box for Hanukkah? You'd give him that Mom look and throw it at him. Right, Mommy?"

That "Mom" look????

Pefect Hanukkah

Can't imagine a better start to Hanukkah than today. After Drew and Rachel left for the usual Saturday round of swim lessons/ballet class/farmer's market/regular market, I tidied up from last night's mad rush of sorting and wrapping gifts for Mom/Dad, Daniella/Valerie/Darryl, folks at work, and Drew/Rachel. I am embarrassed to say that I discovered some, um, baby notifications that I apparently never sent out. So, all of you who are reading this: I had a kid four years ago. She's beautiful, smart, funny and precocious.

Then I raced all over town doing errands: the bank, mailing gifts (this will be an Africa-themed Hanukkah), returning Tupperware from a cookie-baking party two months ago, dropping clothes off at Goodwill, cleaning out my car, etc. I've decided my New Year's resolution will be to complete the de-cluttering effort I began in 2012, so by this time in 2013 we will have a clean, streamlined house and I will no longer be made anxious by the piles of stuff around me.

I got home to discover Drew had already begun the matzo ball soup. While he ran out do some errands of his own, Rachel and I Skyped with Darryl, Daniella and Valerie. Valerie is the most adorable little girl ever; she really does look like a combination of Daniella and Darryl. She and Rachel looked at each others' feet again (what IS it about little girls and feet??) and at Valerie's encouragement, both of them grabbed their mommies' fingers and started biting on them, very lightly ("Let's do the same thing to our mommies!" Valerie exclaimed at one point. Ooh, I can't even guess where that kind of thinking will eventually lead years from now). Then Rachel got out her My Little Pony game for us to play while I put in some laundry. Drew got back just as we were about to start the game, so he took over while I baked a chocolate-chip cake. Then I took a nap for 90 minutes, staggered out of the bedroom just in time to make latkes, and Drew made a roaring fire -- the first of the season -- and at Rachel's insistence, we ate in the dining room after clearing off the piles on the dining room table. It was so lovely looking at the fire in the darkened dining room while we had Hanukkah. I love having a fireplace, it's one of the best things about living in this house!

Then we opened gifts. Rachel squealed with joy when she opened Darryl and Daniella's gift -- a ladybug sleeping bag -- and a flashlight, great for camping. She literally shrieked with excitement and insisted on sleeping IN the sleeping bag. So now she is curled up in her sleeping bag, on the floor of her bedroom. This is clearest sign yet that we must take her camping this summer, so Amanda/Jenn and Anne/David/Jean...let's get something going!

Also I received a lovely sweater from Drew and Rachel and a gorgeous necklace from Mom and Dad. More presents will be opened tomorrow and throughout the week. (And we loved the card from PopPop and MawMaw with the dogs -- thank you!!). Happy Hanukkah everyone!! It's good to be home.

A fun, busy day

Never let it be said that we don't make the most of our weekends around here. Today's cavalcade of activity began with Rachel's swim lesson at the local community center. She's made quite a lot of progress -- from being afraid to put her face in the water at all to doing it and blowing bubbles while she's waiting her turn on the paddleboard or something, just to show me she can. Don't know if she's ready for the next level yet (Otter, I believe; she's a Penguin now), but she's definitely ahead of where I was at her age.

Then, after a quick trip to the snack bar for a reasonably healthful snack (today a Cinnamon Toast Crunch bar -- not my first choice but better than cheddar goldfish crackers), it was down to ballet school. Today Rachel had not just her regular lesson but following that a full-on rehearsal for the "Nutcracker Sweet Suite" she and the other younger dancers will be performing two weeks from today. Rachel and the other three girls in her class will be Chinese fortune cookies, meaning they dressed in pink or blue satiny Chinese-style tunics and lined up to dance together as a dragon. They looked utterly adorable, and Rachel loved watching all the other girls in their costumes run through their parts.

After a bagel, an orange and some mango juice, I dropped off Rachel at her old friend Lila Anne's house for a playdate. Lila used to go to St. James with Rachel; she switched schools awhile ago, but the two girls get on so well we try to get them together every so often. Today was a special treat: Elliott, a friend of Lila's from her new school, had invited her to a gingerbread house-making party, and generously extended the invitation to Rachel as well. Suzanne, Lila's mom, took them both to the party, which gave me a chance to hit the gym for a much-needed workout.

When I went to Elliott's house to fetch Rachel, the three girls were running around, pretending to hide from me, shrieking with laughter and generally having a great time. The gingerbread houses looked yummy and very cute (I of course brought Rachel's home, where it will become dessert fodder after being photographically immortalized), and the girls of course didn't want to leave. But we had yet another stop to make: the video store, where I had told Rachel she could pick a video for our pizza/popcorn/movie night. It ended up being another Barbie movie, of course: "Barbie as Rapunzel," which was not nearly as eye-rollingly unbearable as that title might lead you to think. Rachel spent much of the evening curled up against me, munching pizza and popcorn and covering her eyes during the scary parts; as the end-credits music played, she jumped up and said "Let's dance!" So we danced until it was time to get her ready for bed.

Now she's in bed, and I think I'm going to unwind while watching "Cowboys & Aliens" on On Demand. Tomorrow: haircuts and groceries!

Evening activities

You may recall that a few days before Thanksgiving I explained to Rachel  that "the Funny Man," a street performer who entertained passersby at the Hawthorne Bridge onramp, had died. Today, on the way in to school, she reminded me that she had wanted to add something to the makeshift memorial at his former spot. I said, "Do you want to do that tonight, after school?" and she said she did, so we spent the rest of the drive planning what she wanted to do.

So when I came to pick her up tonight, I brought with me a yellow balloon Rachel had in her closet and some markers. She very carefully wrote her name, and (with my help) a heart next to it, on the balloon. On the other side she drew (again with help, but not too much) a picture of a princess wearing a purple crown. Then we drove down and parked near the bridge entrance and walked up to the memorial.

As I tied the balloon onto a music stand, Rachel looked over the other items people had left. I explained that sometimes when people die who meant a lot to people, they leave things to show how much they miss him, and then I asked if she wanted to say anything to the Funny Man as if he were there.

"Bye, Funny Man! I love you and I'll miss you!" Then, "Was that good, Daddy?"

Perfect, sweetheart.

Then we walked back to the car. It was chilly and windy, and I'd complained a bit about the cold on the way up. Rachel took my left hand and held it in her two mittened hands, and asked "Does that help, Daddy?"

"It sure does, sweetie. Whenever I'm with you, you make me warm inside my heart."

"But that doesn't help, Daddy, because you're warm in your heart but the rest of your body is cold."

"Well, sweetie, the warm goes out from my heart and all through my body."

Then we drove to Powell's for a bit of book-reading, and on the way she said "It's too bad the Funny Man died, because he would have made an awesome clown." Then we had another in our continuing series of discussions about which kids at school bite other kids.

At Powell's we sat down to read some Pinkalicious books (see previous post if you're not up on the Pinkalicious oeuvre), and a little girl came over to watch. I invited her to join us (she turned out to be a 6-year-old named Bella), and she took Rachel in hand to look for more books. Then, after we started, another little girl came over and we invited her to sit down with us. Her name was Evva (spelling approximate), she was 7, and she and her family were visiting from Boulder because they were on a book tour with her father, who was reading from his book that night (right next to the kids' area, in fact). So I had an audience of 3 girls, which I have to say was pretty cool. Also cool was the way Bella and Evva accepted Rachel as a peer, even though she's only 4. And no one got bit, which to my mind is always key.

Pretty much a perfect day

What else could you call a day that began with Rachel and I Skyping with Lisa (she's 10 hours ahead of Pacific Standard Time, so it was just about dinnertime for her when we rang) and ended with the two of us dancing around the attic after having had a pizza-and-movie night?

The centerpiece of our day: I surprised Rachel with tickets to "Pinkalicious," a musical version of one of her favorite books. She'd seen it with her class when it came to town earlier this year, but it's back for a short return engagement. Rachel saw a flyer for it one day while we were out shopping, and I told her that "maybe" we could go see it while Mom was away.

So after we finished our Skype call with Lisa, Rachel asked what we were doing today, and I responded by telling her I had a surprise and pulling out the tickets. She asked what they were for, and I said, "Why don't you try reading it?" She got as far as "Pink..." when the light bulb popped on over her head. She shouted "Pinkalicious!" and danced around the living room in joy.

Before the show we took advantage of the rare non-rainy November day and hit the Portland Farmers Market, one of the last ones of the year. I picked up some ingredients for duck soup (one of Rachel's favorites, which I plan to make for next week's Shabbat dinner), and Rachel had an al fresco lunch (some fontina cheese, a very tasty "pretzel roll" from Delphina's bakery, a pear and part of a pumpkin-chocolate-chip cookie). As is often the case people kept giving Rachel things -- a little red change purse left behind at one stall, a fistful of colorful wool at another. I like to think they appreciate a polite, well-behaved child when they see one.

Then onto the show. For those of you without little girls in your lives, "Pinkalicious" is about the title character, a girl who loves all things pink. She eats too many pink cupcakes and turns pink all over, a condition (called "pinkititis") that can only be reversed by eating green foods. I can honestly say I've never been in one place with so many girls in so much pink. The show was actually pretty well done, and Rachel had a great time. Afterward we stood in line to meet the cast and get autographs, and when I mentioned that this was her second time one of the actors asked "Was it as much fun as last time?"

"Better!" Rachel said with a super-wide grin.

Then we popped down to Powell's for some book-reading, and then I sprang the second surprise of the day on her: I suggested that she and I have a pizza-and-movie night, and she could pick whatever kid movie she wanted. I think she could scarcely believe her luck -- she exclaimed "That's the best idea I ever heard in my whole life!" So we departed for the video store (one of the few remaining in Portland, alas), where after much deliberation she settled on the same "Barbie and the Magic Pegasus" movie that we all watched a few weeks ago (and about which Lisa has already blogged). After it was over, and while the end credits were rolling, she and I pretended to be the lead characters and reenacted the ice-dancing scene that closed the movie.

All in all, I couldn't have asked for a better day with my sweet girl.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Despite the fact that our beloved wife and mother was thousands of miles, an ocean and a hemisphere away, Rachel and I had a lovely Thanksgiving. We got to Skype with Grandma and Grandpa (who both are under the weather and so spent the day by themselves) Pop-Pop and Meemaw in North Carolina, and Lisa's sister, her husband and their daughter (i.e. Rachel's cousin) Valerie. Valerie is just 5 1/2 months younger than Rachel, and the two girls spent much of the call admiring each other's feet, shoes and stockings. Hey kids, whatever rings your bell...

In between Skypes Rachel and I made chocolate-chip cookies to bring over to our friends' house where we'd be spending Thanksgiving (Jim and Linda, whose daughter Devin is in the same preschool class as Rachel), and after we rang off with Valerie & Co. we headed over there. The two girls had a fabulous time -- playing dress-up, watching Barbie movies on a laptop, pummelling me -- and Rachel was a model guest, very polite to Jim and Linda when she needed or wanted something and keeping the shrieking down to a minimum. By the end of the evening the girls were begging us to let Rachel stay the night, and if we (Jim, Linda and I) had been at all prepared for a sleepover I'd have let her do it. I think she's mature enough to spend the night under a strange roof. (There was some weeping and fussing from both girls when we told them maybe some other night but not this one, but Rachel got over it pretty quickly once we left for home.)

Oh, and the cookies were a hit, too.

Good behaviors!

One of Rachel's preschool teachers has begun giving the kids "bean bands" -- brightly colored elastic  wristbands, kind of like hair scrunchies -- for, as Rachel puts it, "good behaviors." When I picked her up tonight (last school day of this holiday-shortened week), she very proudly counted all the bean bands she was wearing on both arms -- 16, the total accumulated this week.

I asked her, naturally, exactly what "good behaviors" she had done to earn so many bean bands.

"There are 3 Bs," she patiently explained. "Be a good worker, be friendly, and don't be hurtful."

Ah, I said. Could you give me some examples?

"Well, today I sat quietly on my bed [actually a floor mat] during nap time, so I was being a good worker. Or sharing toys you're playing with at playtime."

I see. How about being friendly?

"Like, if you see somebody sitting by themselves and they don't have anybody to play with, you'd say 'Do you want to play with me?'"

Apparently Rachel doesn't have the latter problem -- she and three or four of the other girls in class have a pretty close group. When we got to school this morning, two of them ran up and shouted "Rachel, Rachel, come and play with us!"

"I need to take my coat and boots off," Rachel said, a bit crossly. (Later, when I suggested that she tell them she'd love to play but she needed time to take off her coat and boots, Rachel replied, "Well, what I really needed was some space.")

After she was divested of her foul-weather gear, though, she ran over to her friends and they all began free-form dancing in one of the play spaces. I stood there with Joe, the bean-band teacher, watching them for a few minutes, silently grateful that my daughter seems to have the inborn ability to make friends that comes rather hard for me.

"We have a really good group of girls this year," Joe said. And what better lead-in to the long Thanksgiving weekend? I have so much to be thankful for this year, but that my daughter is who she is is top of the list.

A sad lesson

Usually after I pick Rachel up from school we head home over the Hawthorne Bridge, one of the approximately 57 bridges that cross the Willamette River and connect Portland's east and west sides. For years -- long before Rachel was born -- a street performer would station himself at the onramp to the bridge. He was invariably dressed in an all-white tuxedo, and would play a badly out of tune trumpet, do little magic tricks, and generally try to entertain the cars waiting to get on the bridge. Rachel got to expect him, and would exclaim about "the Funny Man" when she did.

A couple of weeks ago, the street performer died -- by his own hand, as it turned out, though he also was suffering from a variety of physical ailments. A makeshift memorial of balloons, flowers, stuffed animals, &c. has sprouted at his erstwhile post, which Rachel noticed on our drive home tonight.

"Look Daddy, the Funny Man left his stuff!" she said.

I decided that she was mature enough to handle one of the grimmer realities of life.

"Well, sweetie, I have some sad news," I said. "The Funny Man died."

"He DIED?!?" she exclaimed. "What did he die on?" (I think she meant "of".)

I explained that he'd been very sick, and that a lot of people around the city missed him and left the items there as a way to show that.

"Well, I want to leave something too!" she said. "Maybe one of my stuffed animals, or a balloon."

A beat, then "I'm just heartbroken!"

I reached back and held her hand for a few minutes, then she asked me to resume telling her the story that had been interrupted by this little object lesson. I did, but not before telling her that I'd read in the newspaper that the thing that had made the Funny Man happiest was making kids smile.

"So when you smiled and waved at him, you were actually helping him and making him happy," I said. "That may seem like a little thing, but it's really one of the best things you can do."

Music Theory 101

Earlier this evening I was driving Rachel to a "pajama party" that a couple of the teachers from St. James do once a month. The kids get to come to school in their jammies and play with their friends, watch movies, eat popcorn, &c., while their parents get some time to themselves. Lisa and I often use these as date nights; I'd signed Rachel up for this one before we knew for certain when she'd be going to Africa, and I figured I shouldn't pass up the opportunity for a few hours of me time.

As we were driving to school, at Rachel's request I warbled my way through "Over the Rainbow," and then she asked if I wanted to hear some "Hello Kitty" music. I said "sure," and she began improvising a bouncy, cheerful song whose lyrics I couldn't reproduce on a bet, but it was an amalgam of "Over the Rainbow," "Yesterday" and some of her own words about friendship, rainbows and finding tomorrow today.

"That was an up-tune," she said when she was done, using Sweet Adelines lingo for their livelier songs. "Now would you like to hear a soothing ballad?"

Um, sure thing, kid. So she sang another song that lyrically was much the same as the first except slower and somewhat more melodious.

"Was that soothing?" she asked when she was done. It sure was, sweetheart.

(Clearly, all the music she's exposed to, mainly from Lisa singing to her or playing her CDs, is making an impact.)

Tales of a bachelor father

So, anyone who's reading this probably knows that Lisa (the regular author of this blog) is away in Africa, chasing a fantastic story for her magazine. Which leaves me, the neo-Luddite, in charge of updating everyone on the doings and sayings of Miss Rachel.

Or, as she apparently now is known, "Princess Daphne of the Smiles and Laughs." ("And giggles," she amended. "I'm in charge of all the kinds of laughs.")

Anyway, we were on our way back home from ballet class when I saw a sign for an estate sale. I have a weakness for this things, and have dragged Rachel along to probably more than most 4-year-olds have experienced. I told her we'd be making a stop.

"Why do you like estate sales, Daddy?"

"Because I like looking at old stuff. Maybe because I'm so old."

"Yeah, you're old. When your hair is all white, we're going to wrap you up in plastic and put you up in an old house. A haunted house!"

"A haunted house! That's no fair!"

"Yeah, when Mommy dies she's going to go to heaven and you're gonna go to a haunted house!"

This was simultaneously hilarious and more than a touch creepy.

Incredibly self-aware kid

A sampling of dinner table topics tonight:

"Guess what I'm imagining, Mommy," Rachel asked. "When I'm 5 and Daddy and my teachers discussing what kindergarten I should go to. And remember, Mommy, I'm 5. Not 4, but 5. And it's the day before my birthday and I'm just about to turn 6."

***

We were talking about Santa Claus and Christianity after Rachel remarked out of the blue that "Santa has a small belly." When she expressed sorrow that we don't have a Christmas tree I reminded her that just because we're not Christian doesn't mean we don't have fun. "And just because we're not Christian doesn't mean that we don't get presents," she added, and that reassured me.

"When I grow up, I'm still going to be Jewish," she said. "Because I don't want to decorate the Christmas tree all by myself. But I'm still gonna rake leaves!"

Um, ok.

***

"Am I a greedy kid, Mom?" she asked unexpectedly.
"Do YOU think you're a greedy kid?" I asked. (Who says the Socratic method is limited to law schools?)
"No," she said.
"How would you describe a greedy kid?" I asked.
"I want, I want!" Rachel replied in a whiny voice. "More, more!"
"No, Rachel, you are NOT a greedy kid," I said. "Are any of your friends greedy?"
"No," she said. "NONE of them are greedy."

Then she started talking about a little friend of hers at preschool named Devin.

"When Devin doesn't get her way, she throws a fit," Rachel said. "She sits down, cries, and kicks her legs. And when people stop by and ask what's wrong, she doesn't say anything but she kicks the legs of people who are trying to help her. "

***

I was writing down what she said when all of a sudden Rachel asked me, "Why do you have that determined look on your face?"

I laughed out loud and said, "I'm concentrating!"

"Oh," she said.

Milestone for Rachel!

Drew took the day off today because Rachel's preschool was closed. (I'm busy and stressed out with last-minute trip preparations, so I went to work).

Drew reports that they had a great day at the Children's Museum, meeting Rachel's friend Sadie and Sadie's dad, Joe.

While at the museum, Rachel did her own face painting, which was incredible enough, but later on SHE USED THE BATHROOM ALL BY HERSELF! even after Drew offered to take her into the men's room.

When I exclaimed over this at dinner, I told Rachel, "So the next time you have to go to the bathroom, you don't want me to come with you?"

"No," Rachel replied. "You'll just have to stay outside and take care of your own business!"

Drew and I cracked up. I admit I'm going to miss the comity we had in the bathroom, swapping holiday party ideas and observations about life while she sat on the toilet and I stood guard. But on the other hand, it's a great relief to know she can take care of herself in situations like that.

Unexpected words of wisdom from Rachel

..that came while we were all eating dinner at a seafood restaurant last night (first time we'd been out at a restaurant in months):

"I'm gonna tell you something really important, Mom and Dad," Rachel said, apropos of nothing. "Take what you need, but not from greed."

That was a quote from the "Barbie and the Magic Pegasus" movie we rented recently and that I blogged about. I was amazed Rachel remembered the words and the lesson!

Sunday playdate

After a lovely Skype conversation with Grandma and Grandpa today, Rachel and I headed to Playdate PDX, a great indoor playplace, with her little friend Giada. Giada's mom, Sharon, and I were able to talk now and again, before Rachel insisted I go down the slides with her. The slides are pretty fast and fun, and I'm sure Rachel was surprised when insisted on going down "again! C'mon, let's go down AGAIN!"

We were all having a really nice time until Giada decided she wanted a "tag" on her shirt -- a tag meant that she was attending a party at Playdate PDX, and her mom tried to explain that she couldn't have one because she wasn't attending a party and it wasn't her birthday. Giada proceeded to throw a hissy fit, the likes of which made me uncomfortable and exasperated enough so that I wanted to say, "ENOUGH. If you keep doing this, we are OUT of here." Which her mom eventually did, but not as firmly as I would have done.

Rachel's eyes got very wide during this exchange and she said, "I would NEVER do that!" and "A 4 1/2 year old doesn't DO that!" (Giada will turn 5 in January). I had to tell her to lower her a voice a bit. I don't think Sharon heard; she was so preoccupied with getting Giada home. I offered to clear up the dishes, since they'd had lunch, and they left. Rachel, of course, couldn't wait to share with Drew what had happened. I think Giada was just having a bad day; Sharon said she'd been having temper tantrums all weekend after months of calm.

Drew got a haircut and ran some errands, then came to Playdate PDX to pick Rachel up while I went home and did some work. Before he came, she said to me, apropos of nothing:

"And always remember this, Mom. Be happy with what you have and don't be jealous of other people."
"Who told you that?" I said, astonished.
"Daddy," she replied.

Rachel's thoughts on Mommy going to Africa

The other day Rachel told Drew that "I'm worried Mommy won't be back in time for Hanukkah to sing her special song."

I reassured her later that I would, in fact, be back in time to make latkes, sufganyiot, the whole deal. That made her happy.

***

"Swaziland, Swalizand, Swaziland!" Rachel sang the other day. She is enchanted at the idea of me going there because I mentioned the country -- which is Africa's last absolute monarchy -- has a king and queen. When Rachel wondered whether there were princes and princesses, too, I said probably. She thinks I'll get to meet them all.

"I'm not important enough to meet the king of Swaziland," I told her.

"C'mon, you're a magazine editor!" Rachel said. "That's important!"

If you say so, sweetie.

Rachel takes over Shabbat

A former colleague of mine wrote a book about Bruce Springsteen, the first one in 25 years with Bruce's cooperation. It has gotten a lot of buzz. I'm friends with the colleague's wife, Sarah, who has made a point of inviting me to her husband Peter's publicity parties, one of which I can't go to because I'll be overseas. So...on Friday I decided to attend his book reading at Powell's. I figure I could make an appearance and then leave quickly to have Shabbat dinner with Drew and Rachel.

I got home just as they were finishing up, but by eating fast I was able to have dessert with all of them. Drew said that Rachel had picked out the candles and put them in the candle holders, and SHE SAID THE BLESSING ALL BY HERSELF. And, best of all, she added her own blessing! It went like this:

"Bless Mommy, bless Daddy, bless Grandma and Grandpa, bless PopPop, bless Uncle David, bless Auntie Anne and bless Grandma Jean."

Rachel's dreams

The other day Rachel came into my room and announced she'd had a good dream. "It lasted right until I woke up!" she said.

"What was the dream?" I asked.

"When I went into school, there was a big surprise for me," she said. "We went sailing on a toy ship with toy sails. And PopPop gave me two nutcrackers. I gave one to Sadie and she cried of happiness."

That sounds like one delightful dream!

what a week....

...filled with the tension of the election, booking tickets for Swaziland and South Africa(!!), running around on last-minute trip preparation craziness, etc. Figure I'd catch everyone up on what's been happening.

(While I'm gone I will urge Drew to keep y'all updated via this blog, but I make no promises. I expect to be mostly incommunicado while I'm gone. I'll be leaving this Thursday, Nov. 15 and back on Wednesday, Dec. 5th. One nice thing coming and going: I've timed it so that Drew and Rachel can drop me off AND pick me up at the airport. Oooh I can't wait to see her sweet little face when I return!!)

So, on Tuesday, I was a Bad Mommy because I was dying to sit in front of the TV all night and watch the returns, but of course I couldn't because I was on Rachel Duty. So, what did I do? We went to Powell's (grudgingly, on my part), came home and I was listening to NPR the whole way home (and repeatedly shushing my poor daughter, who gave up trying to say anything after a while).

Then at home I turned on the radio as loud as I could and listened to returns after throwing some pizza into the oven and then shoving it in front of Rachel. The moment NPR called the election for Obama, I threw my hands up in the air and said, "YESSSS!!! I told Rachel, "Obama WON!!!" and then SHE put her hands in the air and cheered. At that moment Drew called and we were on the phone for about a half-hour while Rachel gave me the thumbs-up sign. And, um, I almost totally ignored her.

Romney conceded at around 10 p.m. our time, and so I rushed Rachel's bedtime preparations. I refused to cuddle in bed with her, instead giving a hasty kiss and leaving so I could catch every line of Mitt's goodbye. Then I listened to Obama's victory speech. And then had work to do, so I was still typing when Drew returned at 1:30 a.m. We stayed up until 2 a.m. talking, and then I finally pleaded for sleep.

I was a wreck the next day, but luckily got sleep Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday. By tomorrow (Monday) I should be nearly back to normal.

A note about Obama: One of my indelible memories is sitting Rachel on my legs on the couch in the living room and listening to Obama accept the nomination. I was with my friend Paige, who has a son about a year older than Rachel, and we turned to each other in astonishment at his oratory. "That's not a politician; that's a preacher," I said in awe.

Rachel was so little when Obama made history -- only four months -- but I will always trace her birth to that election. And that every time she ages four years, there will be an election. Kind of a neat way to keep time.

More evidence of Rachel's phenomenal memory

Drew apparently told Rachel that he used to have a guinea pig -- the late, lamented, super-cool Sid (named after punk rocker Sid Vicious, of course).

"One time when Daddy was living in Chicago, he had a guinea pig named Sid," Rachel said over dinner tonight. "And one time he decided to bring Sid over to Suzanne's house to show him to the family and to see how Nutmeg and Sid would act together. And he set Sid in the middle of the living room but he took a little time to figure out where everything was. Then he let Nutmeg into the room and you could almost see the thought in her face: 'Ooh, that's a pounce toy!'" And she started preying around Sid like a tiger and then we scooped up Sid before Nutmeg could pounce on Sid. And then Daddy decided not to bring Sid to Suzanne's house anymore."

I have no doubt this story is true, and I'm astonished that Rachel remembered so much of it!

A conversation between Mommy and Rachel

Tonight after preschool Rachel asked to go to Powell's and read books, and I obliged. As I was leaning over her and getting ready to unbuckle her from the car seat, I said, "Do you know how much I love you?"

"How much?" Rachel asked.

"To the end of the universe," I answered.

"I love you to the universe and up to the moon and back," she said.

"Thank you for being my daughter!" I said, touched.

"You're welcome," Rachel said. "Friendship is forever."

Man, this kid knows how to make my day.

***

I was discussing the end of Daylight Savings Time over dinner tonight and how it's going to be dark for a long, long time.

"Wait until the summer solstice, Mommy," Rachel said. "Let me tell you about the summer solstice. The summer solstice is when it stays late until, like, nine o'clock."

True, that.

***

"Giada was wearing a black and pink checked shirt," Rachel said, talking about one of her little preschool friends. "It was very dramatic."

Denver

Drew, Rachel and I were in Denver last week for the 66th annual Sweet Adelines International convention. My chorus, Pride of Portland, competed against 34 choruses. We spent several days in what seemed like nonstop rehearsals and then sang in the semifinals on Thursday and the finals on Saturday. The trip was especially sweet because PopPop made it out to see us. From what I've been told, he, Drew and Rachel had a fantastic time while I was rehearsing, sleeping off my exhaustion or attending the quartet/chorus portions of the contest.

Rachel was so excited to see PopPop that when she and Drew got off the plane (PopPop met them on Thursday, right after I finished singing in the semifinals; I had to go back to my hotel room and sleep because I was so drained), she literally jumped into PopPop's arms. We all congregated in the hotel room and talked for a while with our room-sharer, Julie, a friend from chorus. Mom and Dad called and we were relieved to hear they were OK (if without power after Hurricane Sandy). Then PopPop, Drew, Rachel and I went to dinner and, as we were coming back, we heard that Pride of Portland had made the finals! Yippee!!

So Drew, Rachel and PopPop had a ball the next two days, going to the Denver Aquarium (where Rachel got to see not one but TWO mermaid shows), and the Denver Children's Museum while Mommy was rehearsing and competing. At night we'd reunite for a bit before crashing into bed at 11 (late for Rachel, quite early for Drew and me). We all got good amounts of sleep but I still ended up feeling tired, probably because of the adrenaline, the stress and the geography, while resulted in my throat being terribly dry the whole time and me losing my voice halfway through the semifinal ballad.

We're hoping that PopPop can see Pride of Portland in Baltimore two years from now, and that Drew and Rachel can come, too. I love that Rachel is growing up around music and that she sees how much being part of SAI means to me. She met Touche, the winning quartet, one of whose members lives in our region, and one of the quartet members got a picture of Rachel between them when the women were wearing their crowns at breakfast (Rachel did a perfect curtsy in front of them, and the bass in the quartet said it was a perfect way to start her morning).

On Sunday morning as we were getting ready to leave, Rachel presented me with a paper crown she'd made at the Denver Children's Museum. "Mommy, you're a QUEEN!" she said. "A queen of HARMONY!"

This is why it didn't matter that we came in 8th instead of 5th or 6th or 7th as I'd hoped. And, hey, the chorus has been asked to audition for "America's Got Talent." So, really, it was very productive week.

Getting ready for Denver

..but first, before I go to Africa, I'm heading to Denver with my chorus to compete in Sweet Adelines International. I put off getting excited about it because I thought I'd be headed to Kenya, Ethiopia and South Sudan on election day, but now the trip is likely to be mostly through South Africa toward the end of November. So, my focus is back on Denver.

To save money, Drew, Rachel and I are sharing a room with my friend Julie and we're splitting the cost of the room. Tonight I joked that we should make Julie sleep in the hallway.

"The hallway is NOT a bed," Rachel said sternly. "You need to be nice to your chorus practice people."

***

Rachel had a delightful conversation tonight with Tia Daniella, who had lovely things to say about Rachel's vocabulary and intonation, and she remarked that talking to Rachel was like having a conversation with a little adult. It's true, sometimes I forget that she's 4. Tia Daniella was very impressed that Rachel's chores were to set the table, clear her place and empty the garbages on Tuesday night. I, in turn, was very impressed that Valerie asks to be excused from the table, which Rachel rarely does.

***

Saturday night was a watershed of sorts: We ALL WATCHED A MOVIE TOGETHER while eating pizza, and we ALL LIKED IT. It was "Barbie and the Magic Pegasus." I thought it was going to be a stupid Barbie movie but, man, it was so much more. Barbie played the role of Princess Anneke, who had to free her parents from the evil Wenlock's spell. Wenlock had also cast a spell on Anneke's sister, Brietta, and turned her into a Pegasus. Anyway, there were good lessons about persistence and not giving up hope, and even though the story included a commoner named Aidan, he and Anneke didn't get romantically involved until the last two minutes of the movie (and their presumed marriage happened offscreen). Best thing of all: the incidental music was Beethoven.

Rache huddled in our laps during the scary parts, but by the end she was in a sunny mood and said, "I forgot all the scary parts!" Tonight she wanted to watch the movie again, which we let her do after she had set the dinner table. I didn't mind; there were parts of it that reminded me of "Lord of the Rings." I generally dislike anything having to do with Barbie, but I think I'll have to make an exception this time.

Carnival!

Rachel's preschool, St. James Lutheran Church, had a carnival Friday night -- it was a fundraiser for the school. All the kids were told to wear costumes, and Rachel looked ADORABLE in the fairy princess costume that her friend Devin got her for her birthday (paired with the fairy wings that Grandma/Grandpa or Aunties Amanda/Jenn got her, I can't remember who). Rachel is a very popular kid -- as soon as she and Drew arrived (I got there about a half-hour into it), two girls came up to her and said, "Rachel, c'mon!" and they all ran off to try the games. I caught up with a couple of moms, who raved about the kindergarten program at St. James which made me think that maybe we should leave Rachel there for another year. We had hoped that starting next fall our financial condition would improve dramatically once we stop paying preschool fees, but if the kindergarten program is so good (and, most crucially, the classes are smaller than our neighborhood school's kindergarten), and we'd have to pay our neighborhood school for after-care, we may as well just keep her at St. James. Bonus: When Rachel's in first grade, we'll be able to take her to St. James during Portland Public Schools' numerous holidays, in-service days, days off just for the hell of it (really, I'm joking, but it's true: PPS kids seem to spend more time out of school than in). So, bottom line, we likely will keep Rachel in St. James until first grade (2014). We are praying that our cars hold out until then so we won't have to start car payments again until she's at Alameda Elementary.

Anyhow...the carnival was a lot of fun, and she has a new friend, Giada, who has asked her mom for a playdate with Rachel (just as Rachel has asked me to arrange a playdate with Giada), so...I'm sure we'll get the kids together. As soon as I figure out when my Africa trip will come through.

Rachelisms of the last few days

As many of you may know, I've been preoccupied the last two weeks or so planning a work-related trip to Africa. One or another aspect of the trip has fallen through, and then I've rescued it, all the while renewing my passport and obtaining visas and immunizations, thinking about whether or not to bring a laptop, camera, etc. etc. etc.

Yesterday I received word that the countries we wanted to visit were vetoed by the university's lawyer, who considers them too dangerous. So now the plan is to head to South Africa and possibly Tanzania/Zanzibar/Lesotho/Swaziland at the end of November/beginning of December (yes, I will be back in time for the first night of Hanukkah).

The point is, all of this has made my life extremely stressful the last two weeks or so and that's why I haven't been posting (or even writing down) a lot of the wonderful things Rachel says every day. She is such a bright light in our lives that it's hard to capture all of her down on paper. But I try, even when my life feels as if it's falling apart. So here's a sample:

***

The other day we were driving to school and discussing the ant problem we have in our bathroom. For some reason the ants have decided that the bathtub is THE place to party in the Lednicer/DeSilver household. Accordingly, Drew has talked to Rachel about how he needs to caulk the grout between the tiles because he thinks that's how the creatures are getting in.

"Why would there be ANTS in the bathroom?" I wondered aloud to Rachel. "It's not like we keep food in there. Ants usually show up in places where there's food."

"Maybe they already have the food and they're looking for drinks," she said helpfully. "And without thinking, they're drinking the soapy water."

That's as sensible an explanation as any, I guess.

***

Tonight we went to Powell's and read some books Rachel picked out. I told her on the way to the bookstore that she will be very spoiled when she grows up because Powell's is the best bookstore in the universe and that she'll expect every bookstore to be like it.

We left later than I wanted to, and I kept saying, "C'mon, Rachel, it's time to go."
"I wish we could stay longer," she whimpered.
"I bet you'd want to stay all night," I answered. "We have to go."
"OK, I can take it," she replied. "But only if we come back tomorrow."

Drew, I think that's your cue....

***

I mentioned during dinner tonight that Swaziland is a kingdom and that Mommy might be going there next month, and Rachel immediately asked if there was a queen, princesses, princes, etc. I told her that I probably wouldn't get to meet the king while I was there.

"Why not?" she said.
"I'm not a very important person," I replied.
"C'mon, you're a magazine editor!" she said. "That's important!"
I cracked up so hard that I pounded the table. That kid is funny.

***

This morning Rachel sensed that I was in a stressed, sad mood. Totally out of the blue, just before I started brushing her teeth, she looked at me and said:

"You're the best mommy you can be!"
"Are you sure?" I said sadly.
"YES!" she replied, and my mood immediately brightened.

Reading and writing

Rachel writes her name very well these days -- it's recognizable, if a little shaky, like that of a WWII vet in his 80s or so -- and the other day she showed me something she was very proud of. She told me she had taken a thank-you note that one of her little friends had given her after Rachel attended her birthday party and written a message to me.

"It says, 'thank you for the cake you made for my birthday!'" Rachel said proudly.

What it really said was:

THETHLA[BDAE
LEUMEEI

RACHEL

It's probably a new alphabet she has developed. Modern hieroglyphic, perhaps?

Shabbat Shalom, everyone!

How can you resist an adorable 4-year-old girl who says to you over dinner, totally out of the blue, "Mommy, I want to go to synagogue with you."

"Why?" I asked in astonishment last night.

"Because I like being with you," Rachel answered. "And I don't want to wait for you to come home."

So, what could I do except cancel a meeting I had at 5:30, race to Portland in the pouring rain, pick Rachel up from preschool and go to synagogue? We arrived 20 minutes late and slipped into some seats in the back. I had grabbed a legal pad and some markers from the law school at the last minute, worried that Rachel would need something to amuse herself (of course, I'd forgotten to pack a knapsack full of stickers, a coloring books, etc. I felt weird about doing that, anyway, because nothing bothers me more in synagogue -- besides kids dressed in shorts and denim jeans -- than to see kids playing games on smartphones or coloring. Call me old-fashioned or just old, but a synagogue is a place of worship and kids should be taught at an early age that they need to respect the place they're in by drinking in the atmosphere even though they don't understand what's being said. I can't remember a single sermon of Rabbi Siegel from my childhood, but I always remember the feeling of peace that lingered with me after the service was over).

Anyway...I needn't have worried. This is RACHEL, remember? She sat next to me, opened up a prayer book, asked me to turn to the correct page, stood when she needed to stand, sat when she needed to sit, and spent most of the service with the book open on her lap, her hands folded neatly in front of her, staring at the walls or the ceiling or the people around her, seemingly lost in thought. I was so, so proud of her. Only toward the end did she get a tiny bit restless and curled up in my lap. I never thought I'd say this...but I actually was able to relax and really listen to the service.

At the end, she ran up to Rabbi Cahana and gave him a big hug; he introduced her to people around him as his "Shabbat Shalom girl." And the compliments I got at the oneg Shabbat afterward were lovely. The head Hebrew school teacher looked at me and called Rachel's behavior "very impressive!" Pointing to an older, 12-year-old boy, she told me that Rachel wasn't wiggly and that she was less restless than the older kid. Another member of the synagogue who has been charmed by Rachel since she was a baby, pronounced her "adorable." Rachel drank two glasses of grape juice, ate two slices of challah and then we headed home to a lovely dinner of lamb chops and pilaf that Drew had cooked.

I can't think of a more perfect way to end a tremendously stressful week. I thanked Rachel several times for coming to synagogue with me, praised her for being so well-behaved, and suggested we go to synagogue together once a month. She agreed.

Debate night!

Torn between racing home to watch the debate or letting Rachel play in the park because it was gorgeous today, I decided to try a little of both: after I picked her up from preschool, we went to Grant Park with the debate on the radio the whole time (and me shushing Rachel at appropriate moments) and then I had her play until it started drizzling and I insisted we head home.

I invited Rachel to come upstairs with me while I watched the rest of it, and she whispered once in my ear, "Can I play quietly?" and I said YES of COURSE, and I got to hear the whole thing in peace. That is, until she smooshed kisses all over my face as both men were answered the closing question. Made the whole thing much more palatable.

***

"Who's the strongest Greek god?" Rachel asked tonight.
"I don't know," I answered. "Probably Hercules."
"If Hercules came to our house and saw me, he'd say, 'that looks like a nymph!'" she said. "A nymph is a kid god," she explained.

***

"I always wanna stay on the high road," Rachel said after dinner.
"What's that?" I said.
"The high road is when you make good choices," she said.
"Who taught you that?" I asked.
"Joe," she said. (Joe is one of her teachers at school). "He said the low road is when you make bad choices. I want everyone in Portland to be in the high road. Everyone in outer space!"

***

"School is a place for learning and playing happily, right?" Rachel said. "I don't think I'm learning very much."
Then she added: "Too bad you can't come into school and do all the fun things. You just have to go to work and then do boring things. Not like us!"
She didn't much like my suggestion that we switch places for a day.

***

Getting closer and closer to Sweet Adeline International competition in Denver next month. Rachel had this to say to this tonight: "Is Ryan worried that you don't have much time to practice before the big show?

Think I'll ask the Maestro himself at rehearsal tomorrow night....

Rachel the storyteller

Apparently all the stories we're telling Rachel are sticking. Tonight she said she had put a bunch of Winnie the Pooh stickers on Sophie, her balloon unicorn.

"Sophie's favorite character is a Greek myth," Rachel explained at dinner.

"Which character?" I answered.

"Ariadne," she said.

"Why?" I asked.

"'Cuz she's a princess," she said. "But Sophie's scared of the Minotaur 'cuz it's half man and half yak. Or half goat. I think it has straight horns. Or curved horns."

***

"Humbert is a big giant," Rachel said, referring to one of the characters in Drew's Princess Caroline stories. "And Mrs. Humbert doesn't want Caroline to take him on adventures. And they have a baby giant. Guess how big the baby is? It's a big as his daddy. And just so you know, Humbert's a boy."

Um, ok, sweetheart!

***

Rachel talked a bit about the hockey game she went to last month when Drew was in Wisconsin visiting his friend Jack.

"Hockey's just for boys. 'Cause they're afraid girls will get hurt," she said.

"That doesn't seem fair," I said. "Girls should be able to play hockey, too," I answered.

"Well, this makes really good sense," she explained. "Boys play with boys, and girls play with girls, so the girls don't actually get hurt."

I refrained from going into chapter and verse about Title IX. Figured I'd save it for another day.

Performance weekend!

Rachel got to see Mommy perform on Saturday afternoon, when Pride of Portland, the chorus with which I sing and that is going to international competition in Denver next month, did its annual show. Rachel and Drew came to the matinee at Portland Community College, and I could barely see them in the audience -- not until the very end of the show, when I looked over to my right and saw Rachel in the aisle, clapping wildly, her two arms above her head. There is nothing quite so thrilling as seeing my little girl clap for me. Drew said later that she was looking at our choreography and trying to copy it!

Afterward she came shyly into the warmup room and everyone oohed and aahed over how big she is, how adorable she is and how much she looked like me. Rachel recognized my friend Deni, grabbed her around the legs and gave her a big hug, and later reported that Deni called her "Lil' Pumpkin."

We all left together and I scrubbed off my chorus makeup, we went downtown for a quick dinner and then Drew dropped me off at the ballet, where I saw one world premiere and a couple of more modern works with my friend Melissa and three of her friends. Melissa graciously invited me to an after-party at a nearby restaurant, and then I took the bus home at 11. That's one great thing about living in a safe city -- being able to take the bus home after a night out. LOVE THAT.

The next day I took Rachel to a cookie-making party at a house three blocks away. The little girl who lives there, Bridgette, was born a few weeks before Rachel and her mom, Max, was in my mom class. Bridgette has an older sister, Mari, and an older brother, Patrick, and Rachel was a little shy at first but got right into rolling out flour and decorating the cookies. Then she and Bridgette went off to play and had a little picnic of snacks in the backyard (it was cloudy but not cold), and then went downstairs to watch Hello Kitty movies while the moms finished decorating and cleaned up.

When it was time to go, Rachel got very whiny and teary and on the way home she said, "I wish I could got to Bridgette's house and live with her and be her sister. I want a sister!"

That cut me to the heart; I couldn't bear to tell her that probably won't happen.

Then I took a nap, got a bunch of passport photos taken, and then Drew fixed dinner while I figured out how to apply for visas for Kenya, Ethiopia and South Sudan (a long, exhausting process). I ended up getting very little sleep and dreamt of visas and chorus competition. Not a good mix.