This morning Rachel came into our room at 8 a.m. Which is a perfectly reasonable time to get up, except that we had been up late the night before (I was catching up on Mad Men episodes after a particularly stressful week), and so Drew told Rachel she needed to let us sleep more (she had told us on Friday night, "Can I go upstairs and color while you guys sleep tomorrow morning?" YES, Drew answered emphatically). She closed the door sadly, then a few minutes later knocked on our door again (yes, at least she knocks). Drew told her to go away, more firmly this time, and I echoed him. She started crying and Drew murmured to me, "New house rule: No knocking on Mommy and Daddy's bedroom door unless the house is on fire."
YES.
Drew eventually took Rachel upstairs and I kept hearing, "Wow! Wow!" Turns out he and Rachel were playing baseball, and the knocking sounds were the balls (which are soft, remember) hitting the walls. He continues to be more and more impressed by her skills. "You'll be ready for tee ball!" I told her when she came downstairs. "Yeah, yeah, yeah I'm ready for tee ball," she said dismissively. Ah, she's already a teenager...
***
At breakfast, Rachel said, "You did a good job of making this banana bread!" "Thank you!" I replied. Glad we're raising a kid who knows to to express gratitude.
***
"Hey Mommy," Rachel said. "Wouldn't it be funny if a ball had little feet and a mouth and some eyes and hopped downstairs for breakfast? Like all the balls going downstairs for breakfast?" And then she laughed.
***
"Tell me a story," she commanded a few minutes later. "Make it spooky, but with a cheerful end."
And that made ME laugh.
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