Mommy and Rachel Shabbat

So, kind of on a whim tonight, I decided to take Rachel to synagogue with me. At first, when I picked her up from preschool, she said she wanted to play in the Park Blocks, but when I said I thought we could go to synagogue together, she immediately said yes and then told Teacher Erin, "I'm going to SYNAGOGUE!"

It was a lovely service, as usual, and the rabbi told a great story about how an ancient rabbi had saved his people by grabbing a scroll of names from the Angel of Death and throwing it in the fire, and I promised Rachel I'd tell her the story again in the car but we never got around to it. Then when we got home, she bustled around making "cupcakes" while I heated up some chicken, noodles and challah. "Can I say the prayers with you?" Rachel asked. "Of COURSE!" I answered, and she accompanied me as I said all three.

While she was helping clear the table she accidentally knocked over a bottle of hard cider that I hadn't finished, and I grabbed her arm and shoved her away from the mess -- which immediately made her run away and cry, loudly, in the bedroom. Instead of rushing in to comfort her, I finished cleaning up and called her in. "I'm folding my laundry!" she said, and indeed, she was. I sat down on the kitchen floor, took her into my lap and said it was OK, I wasn't angry at her.

Then we went into her bedroom and finished folding her laundry, which I hadn't gotten around to doing this morning.

"We're folding laundry together!" she said delightedly.
"Yes!" I answered. "I like that."
"I do, too," she said. "I especially like it because I'm folding laundry with YOU."

Now do you see why I constantly want to cover her with hundreds of kisses and hugs??


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Cute Rachel sayings of the past few days:

Drew brought Rachel to chorus rehearsal Wednesday night because she said on the way home from preschool: "I really, REALLY want to see Mommy sing tonight!" They had to duck out of rehearsal when Rachel got tired, but I managed to run out to the parking lot and was rewarded with big hugs from my little girl.

"Are YOU going to be a singer when you grow up?" Drew asked Rachel.
"I AM a singer," she insisted. "All girls are singers. Boys are watchers."