Garage sale!

So, today was the day of the Irvington Garage Sale -- the one that I've been prepping for for, oh, about a month now; decluttering the house, piling useless old stuff into banker's boxes all over the dining room, living room and bedroom. Finally I could get it out into the open and SELL it. Yay!

(We also cleaned out the garage, including three boxes of old beer bottles that Drew had collected from the 1990s. He has dragged it to every residence we've lived in together, and he finally assented to me emptying the boxes and throwing out the bottles. Now if I could just get him to clean up his work space downstairs....)

The forecast was for rain, but we got a good five hours in before it really started pouring and I had to tote things back up to the garage. Rachel was fantastically helpful setting things up in the morning; she kept carrying stuff down from the garage to the street completely voluntarily. (I had to get two tires patched and rotated first thing, so I didn't get to start selling until 10 or so). We got rid of an old bike and one of Rachel's strollers and some other things -- and I snagged a camp chair for $2 down the street and a storage bin system for Rachel's room for $30. We still managed to clear a nice chunk of change, and I met some really nice people. All in all, a good day.

Then it was off to our friend Sarah's house. Her son Noah was with his dad, but he and Rachel talked by iPhone. And oh, did they talk!! "I want Rachel back!" Noah kept saying. He taught her her first knock-knock joke and they had a fine time talking for about 20 minutes. He'll be at her birthday party next weekend, one lone boy among a passel of giggling girls. He's a nice kid, though; I'm sure he'll be able to handle the attention.

Sarah, her boyfriend Mike, Drew and I sat around talking long into the evening while Rachel amused herself in Noah's upstairs bedroom, finding toys to play with and things to color (and when I finally came to get her, there were ink smudges up and down her arms). She really didn't want to go and pouted a bit, but was asleep by the time the 10-minute car ride was over.

Cute Rachel sayings:

"Mommy, I'm not afraid of ANYTHING," Rachel said at breakfast this morning. "Ask me!"
"Are you afraid of monsters?" I asked.
"Noo," she said.
"How about dogs? You used to be afraid of dogs," I said.
"Only when they bark," she said. "They hurt my ears, and that's why I'm afraid of them."

***

One garage sale customer decided to tease Rachel a bit and offered her 5 cents for her little chair (she had dragged it outside to sit in, but ended up drawing chalk pictures on the sidewalk. It was so cute!!)
"No," she laughed.
"10 cents," he offered.
"Nooo!"
"Five dollars!" he said.
"NOOO!" she answered. "You have no choice!"

***

Last night as we were reminding Rachel about the garage sale, she suddenly shouted, "Come to our garage sale and buy some stuff!" and then she turned to us and asked, "Do you have a microphone??"

Fundraising night

I'm a board member of the Oregon Area Jewish Committee, and as such I often am called upon to do volunteer things like dialing for dollars, which I did tonight. Amy, the group's development director, graciously offered her 11-year-old daughter, Emily, as babysitting help for Rachel while I made phone calls. Emily's younger sister, Abigail, who has Downs Syndrome, was also there. We got pizza and salad, perfect for Rachel since I worried whether she'd get anything to eat. I also worried about whether she'd have enough to amuse her so I packed a backpack (actually, Drew packed it) full of books and crayons.

I needn't have worried. Rachel was a little shy at first, but then spotted John Moss, the head of OAJC, and after he asked her if she remembered him, she immediately reached out her little arms; he picked her up and she hugged him and cuddled on his lap while I brought her dinner. He had a lovely time talking to her and kept remarking on how beautiful she is and what a great talker. I could tell he was overwhelmed at her outpouring of affection, since he has two adult kids and is at the stage where he would really like grandkids in a few years.

The actual dialing for dollars was painless and didn't take that long. When I finished up, Rachel was happily ensconced in Emily's lap, watching a video on Amy's iPad. She started whining and crying when I said it was time to leave, but stopped pretty quickly when I threated her with no story if she continued. (As partial compensation I gave her half a molasses cookie on the way home). She whined that she was hungry when we got back, and I told her that she couldn't have any more cookies. "How about raspberries?" she said, and I poured a small bowl of the ones I'd picked from our backyard yesterday. Then we read a story, washed and brushed and I cuddled with her a little in bed. She kept trying to keep me from leaving, and I told her it wasn't fair -- all I wanted to do was cuddle and laugh and tickle with her all night but I couldn't because I had things to do. Damn adulthood, it gets in the way of me showing my daughter how much I love her.

Cute Rachel sayings from tonight:

"I'm going to grow up, Mommy," Rachel said.
"No, you're not," I replied. "I won't let  you."
(This has become one of our favorite parlor games).
"Yes, I am," she said.
"Will you visit me once in a while?" I pleaded.
"You can visit me every night!" she responded. "You can babysit my kids!"
"I would LOVE to babysit your kids, Rachel!" I replied.

***

In the car on the way home we were talking about my chorus's performances on Sunday, one of which Rachel will attend (there's a matinee at 2 and an evening show at 7).

"Oh my, and Ryan will love my pink dress!' Rachel said. "I can sing next to you on the risers and hold your hand!"

She truly believes Ryan will "discover" her and make her a star.

Rachel knows she's the grownup and we're the kids

Tonight we were talking about Drew heading to Seattle tomorrow. He joked that he'd love to take Rachel up with him, and she agreed, and then he laughed and said, "What would you do while I worked?"

"I could sign letters!" Rachel said.
"That's a good idea," I said. "What else would you do?"
"If I asked you to get me a snack, would you do that?" Drew asked Rachel.
"Yes!" Rachel said.
"It's like having my own P.A.!" Drew said.
"Your own butler!" Rachel countered.

***

Last night Rachel said, "When you and Mommy die, and Tia Daniella and Jojo die, then Valerie and I will have to be nice to each other!"

Drew was a bit taken aback and reminded her that he hopes she and Valerie will be nice to each other before then...

***

Tonight Rachel told me to eat my salad. It had been a long day for me; I spent the morning cleaning out the kitchen and tossing old equipment that we never use in preparation for next week's neighborhood garage sale (and I will spare you the details of what a time-consuming, occasionally disgusting job it was, but at least I have a completely full bag for the Yom Kippur donations to the needy), then raced off to an extra choreography session for my chorus, then back home and cooked dinner (after having made banana pudding yesterday for a party and gingerbread for us because Rachel had asked so nicely for it), so I was a little tired at dinner.

"Mommy, eat your salad!" Rachel ordered.
"She's taking a rest," Drew said.
"You need to eat your salad to grow big and strong," Rachel said. "Otherwise you'll get old and weak!" And then she added to Drew, "I'm giving Mommy good advice!"

Yes, honey, you are, except that I'm going to get old and weak no matter how many salads I eat.

Busy, busy life

Well, it has been quite a week: Good things at work and outside of work that I can't quite talk about yet, plus being plagiarized by Portland's leading candidate for mayor! Doesn't get much more surreal than that. But I'm not the one you want to read about, right? It's RACHEL.

We have been reading these fairy books that are British imports. They're about two little girls, Rachel and Kirsty, who are best friends AND they're friends of the fairies (who are constantly fighting off efforts by Jack Frost and his goblins to ruin things). Every once in a while the fairies call on the girls to help them, and the girls sometimes get to change into fairies themselves in the process. As Drew describes the books, they are barely Americanized to suit U.S. tastes -- he has read a couple of references to castles in Scotland -- but there are about 100 in the series: Bella the candy fairy, Mia the bridesmaid fairy, etc. etc. Rachel LOVES THEM. (There's even a "camp fairy," which is great because she's going to have to go to summer camp in a few years).

So now everything is fairies in our house. We constantly have to pretend we're fairies, or treat Rachel like she's a fairy. Or a unicorn. The other day, Rachel said, "I"m Rachel, the Book Fairy! Fairyland should DEFINITELY have a Book Fairy!"

How can you not love this kid?

Vacation!

We're having a lovely time in Seattle. Got into town in time to see the King Tut exhibit Saturday afternoon (after mind-numbing traffic for no discernible reason, which enraged me so much that I exited the car and stomped over to the Pacific Science Center to get our tickets and wait for Drew and Rachel to park). It was worth the hassle -- the exhibit is incredible. Simply incredible. Rachel was particularly taken with King Tut's "gold flip-flops" (the sandals found on his feet that were made of gold hammered with a pattern of thrush on the bottom). She loved the gold jewelry and I hope she remembers at least some of what she saw, since this supposedly will be the last time the artifacts come to North America (until, Drew cynically says, the Egyptian government needs money). It likely will be the last time Drew and I see them in our lifetime, unless we get to the Middle East, because the last time they were here was...35 years ago.

Then we headed to Anne and David and Grandma Jean's for dinner. I note here that all of them are more technologically savvy than Drew and I put together, and how did we spend the evening after dinner? Teaching Rachel to play marbles! We were all having a great time shooting them back and forth (and Jean is still a great player; arthritis hasn't slowed her down a bit) and Rachel was so enchanted with the game that she asked Drew at dinner tonight if he would buy her a little sack of marbles for her birthday (which likely he will). After dinner and many hints from Rachel, she and I changed into our bathing suits and went into the hot tub. Rachel practiced her floating, using a foam noodle, while Anne and I talked, and then David joined us and he and I talked (with constant interruptions from Rachel who, at one point, decided she was emceeing a show on a boat, grabbed the noodle and pretended it was a microphone and said, "turn your cell phones off. Have a good time. I said, have a good time!" and cracked us both up).

We were in until 11:15 and I suddenly realized that, hey, Rachel is not even 4 and it was long past her bedtime. She very matter-of-factly went upstairs and fell asleep on the cot that Anne had prepared in her study, while Mommy and Daddy slept downstairs (and I got the best sleep I've gotten in DAYS).

This morning Rachel and I gave Drew his Father's Day gift (cargo pants and a shirt that Rachel picked out from Eddie Bauer, both of which Drew really liked), Drew and Rachel called PopPop while I was in the shower, and then we headed out to a great breakfast place called the Maltby Cafe where we met Amanda and Jenn. Amanda and Jenn were very impressed that Rachel waited patiently until our names were called and never fussed during breakfast. She insisted on sitting between Drew and Uncle David, whom she is rapidly developing a big crush on -- she kept hugging him and climbing into his arms and asking him to tell her stories. "Uncle Dave is silly, isn't he?" she said in the car as we left, and we had to agree.:)

We spent the rest of the afternoon at a playground near the Woodland Park Zoo and Rachel, Drew and I took turns chasing each other and trying to catch and tickle each other. The park was filled with dads chasing their kids, and I called out to one of them, "This is Father's Day! You're supposed to be relaxing!" to which he replied, panting, "I get the privilege of chasing around my kids!" When we got back into the car, Rachel fell asleep while Drew took me around some of Seattle's neighborhoods, and then we checked into our hotel near the Space Needle. Rachel was awed by the view of it from our hotel room.

Then we went to Ivar's, a classic seafood restaurant, where Rachel was very nice to the waiter and tried to hug him at one point. Whereupon, as Drew and I were having a very serious career talk...the waiter brought Rachel a dish of blueberry ice cream with whipped cream and a cherry on top, totally spontaneously -- and he got his hug from our daughter. There's something about Rachel that makes people stop and smile and give her treats. As soon as she figures this out for herself, we are doomed.

Now Drew is putting her to bed after giving her a much-needed bath; we are going to hang out in the lobby downstairs for a bit and then take him to work early tomorrow morning. I think Rachel and I will go to the top of the Space Needle ("we'll be able to see the whole CITY!" she exclaimed), meet Daddy for lunch, then maybe go to the aquarium until we have to pick Drew up from work and head to an Italian restaurant I'm writing about for the magazine I edit. I need to do some interviews at 5:30, and then we will eat dinner, change Rachel into her pajamas and head home, hopefully to arrive by 11 and put her to bed.

This is really a great city. We need to come here more often.

sick mommy

Came home from work last night with an achy sore throat and general tiredness, probably because of the two nights this week that I stayed up until 1 a.m. (one of those nights was when Drew came home from DC). This is eerily reminiscent of when he came home from Columbia and my entire body collapsed. Not that Rachel is a difficult kid to single parent, but she's at the age where she requires A LOT of engagement -- telling her stories, answering her questions, listening to her chatter on about her day and about life in general. It's fantastic but occasionally draining.

So I had just enough energy last night to eat some pasta and sausage soup. I lay down before dinner and Rachel brought me, without asking, two of her blankets (she folded them up and put them under my head for me to use as pillows); her doll Elizabeth, a plastic horse ("to keep you extra company"), and a toy cupcake. She was so tender and gentle as she gave me kiss that I told her she'd make a GREAT mommy someday. Hell, if her bedside manner is this good when she gets older, she should consider a career in medicine.

This morning I decided to take off work, so I slept most of the day. But I was determined to go to an evening performance of "Penelope," a modern retelling of Odysseus from the point of view of Penelope's suitors. We picked up Rachel from preschool, dashed over to Kenny & Zuke's for a quick dinner (and it was quick, we got served faster than we usually do), then our babysitter Angela, who manages the box office for the theater company that put on "Penelope," watched Rachel while we watched the play. Then she and Rachel took the bus to our house (which Rachel loved), and I went out for fondue with my friend Russ from Willamette and his partner, Andy, who got us the tickets for the play. (Drew had forgotten to give Angela the keys so he had to race home, get them to her and join us later). We just got home a little while ago, Drew took Angela home (she moved to an apartment close by, so the drive home wasn't that long) and I am heading to bed because I feel crummy again.

We have a full weekend ahead -- I need to head to Seattle for some interviews for a story for the magazine, so we decided to spend a couple days up there. Tomorrow we have tickets to see the King Tut exhibit at the Pacific Science Center, then we're going to Anne and David and Grandma Jean's house for dinner and a sleepover, then meeting Amanda and Jenn for brunch, and then...the whole afternoon is free. We're thinking of taking Rachel to the children's museum or the aquarium. Then Monday we're dropping Drew off at work, I'll take Rachel to the Space Needle and maybe another museum, and we'll meet Daddy for lunch then head to a block party at 5 p.m. where my interviews will take place. Then back to Portland where we hope to arrive by 11 p.m. We're hoping Rachel sleeps in the car.

Happy Friday, everyone!

Rachel's first book reading

..I skipped chorus rehearsal tonight because Drew is flying back from DC and I can't make Rachel sit through an entire rehearsal. So, we went to a book reading instead. A former colleague of mine from the Oregonian, Peter Zuckerman, wrote a book about the K2 hiking disaster in 2008 that killed 11 people in a day. It's considered one of the worst climbing disasters in history and Peter tells it from the point of view of the sherpas who guided the expedition. No other mountain disaster books that have been written tell anything about the sherpas, so Peter's book is getting wide acclaim. As it should.

I picked Rachel up from preschool, we found a parking space at Powell's -- the last one -- and went next door to Sizzle Pie for great pizza and salad. She was quite well behaved during the hourlong book reading, although a little restless toward the end -- completely understandable -- and she kept whispering questions about K2 during the reading. I promised I'd tell her more in the car on the way home and she wanted to know EVERYTHING -- what K2 is, why people died on the mountain, what the mountain is made of, how snow can kill people, etc. Truthfully I couldn't answer much, and finally I resorted to telling her, "I don't know, sweetie. I have to read the book."

During one particularly harrowing account that Peter read, Rachel turned to me and exclaimed, "I'll NEVER climb K2! Will you??"

"Imagine being one of the 11 people that were DYING!" she said while brushing her teeth.

And before she went to bed:

"I wish I could stay up and read books ALL NIGHT!" she said. "Do you?"
"Honestly, Rachel?" I answered.
She nodded.
"Yeah, I do," I said.

Life is unjust

...feeling that way yesterday and tonight after hearing that the 10-year-old son of a friend of mine died of brain cancer yesterday at 12:30 p.m. His name was David John English and he is the son of my buddy Eric from college (Mom and Dad, you may remember that we took Eric, Missy and Carla out for dinner during graduation weekend). Eric's wife, Kathy, stitched the quilt that hangs over Rachel's dresser.

Kathy had posted regular updates of David's condition on Facebook and so we followed his journey from somewhat good health to pain and suffering. He died 19 months after his brain tumor was diagnosed. He has a 14-year-old sister, Holly.

Kathy always included funny, poignant things David did or said even when he was very, very ill. It was astonishing how his first worry was always whether he was inconveniencing the family and how he hated being a burden to them. Other times he wondered why he, a 10-year-old boy, had to go through what he was going through. I wondered that, too.

David had a stuffed bee from childhood that he kept around, and Kathy built a whole brain cancer awareness theme around it: "BEE strong." I got a bunch of construction materials to make some bees for David, a project I wanted to do with Rachel, but we never seemed to find the time. I deeply regret that.

I woke up this morning and thought of David being gone, and I started crying. I met him once as a baby when I was driving cross-country to UMich for my fellowship but hadn't seen the family since. As a wise friend of mine said today, hearing of a child's death is a whole different thing when you're a parent yourself. All I could think of this morning was how I'd feel if I lost Rachel. It would be like losing a limb. Or worse -- I wouldn't be able to go on, because what would be the point?

I'm having a hard time understanding the universe today.

Not exactly what I needed to hear tonight

...after a tough day at work:

"I wish we were Christian," Rachel said tonight. "'Cuz then I could celebrate Christmas and get lots of presents. And I could hug Santa Claus."

I sat down with her and told her that she's Jewish, not Christian, and being Jewish is special, and that Christian kids don't have mommies who come to class and talk about Hanukkah, and Christian kids don't have mommies who bring doughnuts to class during said talk, and that she gets plenty of presents at Hanukkah. I felt that she had caught on when she asked if Christian kids get chocolate coins at Christmas, and I said no.

I am trying not to overreact, but her statement felt like a stab to the heart. As a Jewish kid she will always be a minority wherever she lives in America, and I want to arm her against the cruddy feeling I always get around Christmas, when it feels like everyone in the world is celebrating a holiday you're not part of. Hopefully she will experience enough of the joy and intellect of Judaism so that she can take pride and pleasure in her religion and not feel like she's missing out.

I hope.

Rachel's the big kid!

I think I mentioned a few blog posts back that a bunch of Rachel's friends were moving to kindergarten, right? Well, today was the day. Rachel is THRILLED to be the biggest kid in preschool, since she gets to be Teacher Erin's helper. Today we got in early enough for her to have her choice of "job" assignments -- little tasks that the kids do to teach them responsibility.

Later in the day, she said, she received a stamp on the back of her right hand -- to complement the other stamp on her left hand, apparently. "I set a very good example today," she said at dinner. "I picked up someone's bread and it wasn't mine, and I also said 'thank you' after I got my snack. TWO TIMES!'"

***

Rachel reminded me tonight not eat the chicken bone I was chewing on, otherwise I'd choke.
"And if you choke, you can die," I said.
"I don't want you to die," Rachel said.
"Why?" I answered, thinking she'd say something about how much she loves me.
"Who will clean up? And who will give me dessert and who will put me to bed?" she replied.
Serves me right for fishing for a compliment....

***

Have I mentioned lately that we're a house of princesses and fairies? (Mom and Mawmaw may remember this from the girls they raised...)

"I'm also Princess Unicorn Pegasus and I have wings and I wear dresses and skirts and tutus and crowns and tiaras and I have magic things," Rachel announced tonight. "Everything I have are magic things. Even the clothes that I have are magic!"

"Can I be a unicorn?" I asked.

"You can be the queen so you can sit on the throne and have a crown. Daddy can have a crown but he's the only boy. We can't have a kingdom without a king. And also the palace will be gray and all yucky and my horn will lose its magic," she said. "Also, my wand won't work."

Warm weather....at last!

...and you can bet we took advantage of it today while Daddy was in DC at a conference (Drew won't be home until late Wednesday night, boo!). We met Rachel's friend Tessa and her mommy, Helen, at Grant Park at 11 a.m. for a picnic...and then proceeded to stay until 3:30! Not kidding. Helen, bless her heart, was tempted to take me up on my offer to make us all fried chicken, but then decided I'd be insane to attempt that with Drew gone, so she told me to bring dessert and she brought everything else. We had a fine time watching the girls play in the Beverly Cleary fountain, then on the play structure. Helen and Tessa left at 1:30 and then we met ANOTHER little girl named Ella, who is almost 5, and came right up to Rachel and introduced herself, then proceeded to "mommy" her on a challenging part of the play structure while I chatted up Ella's mom Shana. Shana is from Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, and we spent much of the time discussing whether Drew and Rachel and I should do a driving trip up there for Labor Day weekend (it's only 6 hours away; I thought it was much longer). I'll probably research it this week.

I was so proud of Rachel for mastering sliding down the pole at the play structure, which Ella tried to coach her through. It's kind of a stretch from the platform to the pole, and Rachel was very reluctant to try it on her own. I lifted her a few times then insisted she try it. She finally did....and then did it again and again and again, and I kept watching and telling her each time was better than the last. Within four hours, the kid who was too terrified to slide down the pole was sliding down with one hand, the other clutching her fairy wand. She's growing up so fast...

Then it was home for nap; I was so tired that I fell asleep for an hour next to Rachel in her bed; and then I woke her up to meet Noah, Sarah, and Sarah's boyfriend Michael at the Belmont food carts. Rachel had pizza and apple cider; I tried ahi tuna tacos (too spicy, unfortunately), and both kids had strawberry ice cream. It was so fun to watch Noah, who is almost 5, play with Rachel, who of course is about to turn 4 next month. They both pretended to attack each other with karate moves, and then ran around the food cart area, pretending to see birds on the ground and picking up pieces of napkin and ATM machines until we told them to stop. I had to yell at Rachel because at one point she almost kicked Noah in the face; she got blubbery but then I hugged her tight and we went home. Bath, bed and a story (featuring ponies, of course) and she was asleep before 9:30.

Cute Rachel sayings:

yesterday as we were driving Drew to the airport:
"That's a Smart Car!" Rachel said as she looked out the window. "You should buy one. Mommy's SmartPhone and the SmartCar can be friends!"

***

Today as we were leaving for our picnic at Grant Park:
"This is going to be one heck of a picnic!" (and it was!)

***

We were listening to Scottsdale Chorus, the gold medal-winning chorus from Scottsdale, Arizona, whose CD I bought at a coaching session a couple months back. Best money I've ever spent, since Rachel has memorized most of the songs.

"A fast song is an uptune," Rachel said.
"How do you KNOW that?" I asked.
"Daddy told me," she said. "What's a slow song called?"
"A slow song is called a ballad," I replied.
"I like ballads better than uptunes," she said. "They're really beautiful!"

If sung the right way...then yes.

A disturbing realization

Rachel and I went shopping the other night for Father's Day gifts for Daddy and Grandpa. I wrapped them after I put her to bed and then left Grandpa's gift on the dining room table with a card for her to sign. I told Drew to have her do that while I was at chorus Wednesday night.

When I got home from rehearsal, the gift was gone. And I mean GONE. Vanished, into thin air. Drew and I hunted all over the house for it, including tiptoeing into Rachel's room to see if I'd put it there for some reason. On the second go-around Drew looked into her room again -- and there it was, hidden behind her chair.

I got quite angry and went on a tirade before we went to bed. Because I realized that Rachel has gotten to the age where she can just take things and hide them, and I'll never know what happened. I have enough trouble keeping the various parts of my life organized; I don't want to have to constantly keep track of my things.

Luckily, Drew's cooler head prevailed. He had a talk with her yesterday morning while I was getting ready for work and impressed upon her the fact that she can't hide things "because you gave Mommy quite a scare." Turns out her intentions were the best ones -- she thought it was the gift for Daddy and she wanted to make sure it was a surprise.

She padded into the bathroom as I was finishing up my shower. "I'm sorry that I took the present," she said mournfully. I emphasized that she had given me quite a scare, and then I showed her the secret hiding place for Daddy's gift (in my closet, on top of my sweatshirts. And the card, which will be from her, is covered in glitter and I'm sure she will love to sign it).

So, bottom line: Dad, your gift is in the mail. And Drew, there is no way you're going to find out what your gift is from either of your girls. So don't even try to tickle us. We ain't telling.

Thinking of Yeats tonight

...after a former colleague at the Oregonian, whose daughter graduated from high school this week, posted this Yeats poem on Facebook:

THE angels are stooping

Above your bed;

They weary of trooping

With the whimpering dead.

God's laughing in Heaven

To see you so good;

The Sailing Seven

Are gay with his mood.

I kiss you and kiss you,

My pigeon, my own

Oh, how I'll miss you

When you have grown. 

 

"Why did this make you cry, Mommy?" Rachel asked tonight.

"Because I'm going to miss you when you grow up," I said. "Promise me you'll come visit me when you're grown?"

"YES," Rachel said exasperatedly.

 

"PROMISE??" I begged.

 

"YES," she said again. "I can have a sleepover with my babies at your house."

 

I'm gonna hold you to that, kid.

 

***

 

Last night Rachel was playing with a pair of her sunglasses despite our strenuous attempts to get her to EAT HER CARROTS AND DO MOMMY BOOKS SO YOU CAN GO TO BED.

 

"This is a boat," she said, indicating one lens of her sunglasses. "And these are my girls (sailing on the boat)."

"Who's on that part?" Drew asked. pointing to the other lens.

"Valerie," Rachel said. "And my friends, and people I used to know, and we're all sailing to UNICORNIA!"

 

***

 

"Is that a little cold?" I asked Rachel sympathetically as she was eating ice cream slowly last night.

"Ice cream is SUPPOSED to be cold!" she retorted. Serves Mommy right for asking such an obvious question....

 

***

 

"I have something to tell you," Rachel said last night. "This is very exciting for me. Tracy's going to move me from my regular place to a new spot EVERY DAY!" Apparently there are big changes coming at St. James. Friends moving to kindergarten, Rachel's going to be the big girl in the room, a class name change to Jellybeans from Purple Class...it's hard to keep up.

Cute Rachelisms, Part 2

"Can you please stop making banana bread, so Mommy can make gingerbread?" Rachel asked Drew last night. "'Cause you're getting in the way."

***

Drew is leaving for a conference in Washington DC that lasts from this coming Sunday to the following Wednesday. We already have two playdates lined up for Sunday, one with Rachel's friend Tessa and another with Sarah and Noah.

"Know how many things I'm gonna give Tessa when she comes over?" Rachel asked me tonight. "She gave me one thing, but I'll give her four! I'm going to rummage around my closet."

***

"I love the flowers!" Rachel remarked tonight. She was talking about the bouquet of daisies and purple carnations that our friend Anne brought over when we cooked her dinner two weeks ago before she took a leave of absence from the Oregonian. "What a good combination! White and pink. Is that a good combination?"

***

Rachel the future CEO of a Fortune 500 company: "When Tessa and Amanda and Casey and Tasani go to kindergarten, I'm gonna be in charge of the table. I'm gonna be the boss, I'm gonna tell everyone what to do. I'm gonna be 4!"

Rachel's in a band!

This is what she told Drew last night when she discovered a musical "table" we had inherited from our friends whose toddler had outgrown it. You press buttons on it and it makes music sounds and lights up. Keep in mind that she hasn't used it in, oh, 18 months. Apparently Daddy will handle the money and Mommy will handle...the greenroom food, I suppose. But if I hear of any riders that require me to supply her with only certain colors of M&Ms...she gets a timeout.

***

Cute Rachelisms:

Talking about Drew driving to Seattle (he left this morning), Rachel said this last night:

"How about you pack a bag of Hello Kitty Band-Aids in your suitcase?"
"Well, thanks, Rachel, but they have Band-Aids at my place of work," Drew replied.
"If you're driving in the car and you scratch yourself or something, you can just reach in the back and get a Band-Aid!" she said patiently. "You want Hello Kitty? Or princess? Or cupcakes?"

Drew then remarked that Rachel seems to worry about us.
"I always worry about both of you!" she said.
"Why?" Drew asked.
"Because I don't want either of you to be hurting!" she said.

***

Rachel last night (to me): Are you sure you don't want chocolate silk pie?
Me: I do, but I'll sacrifice for you.
Drew: That's what parents do -- sacrifice for their children.
Rachel: And that's what children DON'T want to do!

***

Starlight parade!

So, after Jeremy's bar mitzvah, we raced to the farmer's market in time to get strawberries and other produce before heading home for nap. I did two hours of work (I had left early on Friday), then got ready for Jeremy's bar mitzvah party while Drew took Rachel to the Starlight Parade with her little friend Lila Anne and Lila's dad, Steve. Lila's mom, Suzanne, wasn't feeling well so she stayed home with 1-year-old Eva.

Drew and Rachel dropped me off at the party venue, then continued on to the parade. I stayed for about 2 hours, enough to realize that every song the DJ was playing was from the 1980s. The kids LOVED it. I found this very dismaying. It's MY music, not yours, kids!

Afterward I was able to walk to where Drew and Steve and Rachel and Lila were sitting along the parade route. The parade got started a half-hour late, so I managed to catch most of it. And Steve had scored two seats for all of us to share, so we took turns sitting the girls on our laps (this is what it must feel like to have two kids instead of one!). The parade was fantastic. I am a parade FREAK, so the sight of so many marching bands and lit-up floats (the parade begins at 8:30, hence the name "Starlight Parade) made me tremendously happy. Steve had bought the girls plastic horns, which they tooted (in rhythm, no less!) to the horns in the marching bands, and Drew bought them blow-up unicorns (Rachel's is purple, and she promptly named it "Carrot" because the unicorn likes carrots), and the girls loved seeing all the festivity float by. "It's important to take them to these civic events," Drew said, and he is so right -- it builds great memories and childhood associations. We plan to take Rachel every year, now that she's old enough, and to the Rose Parade (both in the same month, since June is the Festival of Roses), and the blues and jazz festivals, and the carnival by the waterfront....I want her to associate growing up in Portland (however long we stay here) as living in a magical place.

The parade ended at 11:30, and luckily we caught a shuttle bus straight to Lloyd Center, where we had parked the car. We were home in 10 minutes and Rachel was in bed by midnight; we followed at 1:30 a.m. We encouraged Rachel to sleep in and luckily she took our hint -- she didn't come out of her room until 9:30!! So we all had a nice leisurely morning; I met a friend for brunch, came home and commenced the decluttering (Rachel's bedroom and the kitchen are on my list today) and Drew took Rachel grocery shopping and errand-running. All in all, a good weekend.

Cute Rachel sayings:

"I'm a party person!" (right before she and Drew headed out for the parade)

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"You're the best parents in the whole world!" (right as we left for the bar mitzvah)

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Rachel, by the way, has decided that we are all superheroes. Mommy is SuperMommy, Daddy is Superman, and she is...SuperGirl. Of course.

Bar Mitzvah bittersweet

Yesterday was quite eventful -- instead of me staying home and getting work done (which includes de-cluttering the house, which we'll be doing pretty much constantly until our guests come for Rachel's birthday) we went to the bar mitzvah of Jeremy Peterman, the son of my ballet buddy Melissa. Rachel wore the most adorable dress -- pink with white polka dots and flowers, white tights with silver bows on the them, and multicolored shoes. She was the youngest guest there and behaved herself exemplaririly (is that even a word)? She was quiet through much of the service, which was in Congregation Beth Israel's imposing, Byzantine-style synagogue (absolutely gorgeous). Drew arrived just in time to give her a Hello Kitty coloring book to amuse her while she cuddled on his lap.

I got weepy, even though I barely know Jeremy, because I was thinking that in 9 years, we'll be the ones up on the bima and listening to Rachel read her Haftarah portion and read a speech about how her portion connects to her everyday life (and for those who can't attend in person, the synagogue broadcasts live versions of services). The printed program gave a history of the synagogue and said that bar and bat mizvah kids read from a Torah rescued from Eastern Europe during the Holocaust. The symbolism is that "so our children's voices will never be silenced." I can only imagine what my feelings that day will be, listening Rachel read so beautifully (because of course she'll be the top student in her Hebrew school class, Drew and I just know it) and thinking if only...if only her great-grandparents were alive to see that their daughter survived the Holocaust, and then she had a daughter, and that daughter had a daughter, and the line continued, and in the end evil failed to triumph. And I hope I will feel my grandparents' spirit at the ceremony.

Rachel reaches another milestone!

...a bittersweet one for me, anyway: She has has had several dry underwear nights in a row, so we're thinking it may be finally time to get rid of our spare boxes of diapers, Pull-Ups and, of course, the diaper genie. When you're a new mom, they don't tell you that you'll eventually get rid of all the crap that you start out with -- the changing table, the onesie baskets, the crib, the diaper genie. They're around for so long that you just assume you'll keep them forever. But that's ridiculous, of course -- it seems as if we just got Rachel into a toddler bed and she's growing so fast that we'll have to get her a big-girl bed before the end of the year! Plus a desk and a work table and chairs and bins to put all her stuff in....

Here's how we know we need to get rid of the Pull-Ups: Rachel is now cognizant enough of her need to pee that she will get up in the middle of the night and go to the bathroom -- without even using a nightlight! I watched her do this the other night; it was around 11:30 and her door cracked open. "I have to go to the bathroom," she said, and hugged my leg. She went to the bathroom, flushed, then grabbed my leg again and went to sleep.

"I am so PROUD of you for waking up to go the bathroom!" I exclaimed gently, and then gave her a soft kiss on her cheek and rubbed her hair. She looked very pleased, as was I.

It was actually the second time she had done this. Sometime last week she'd asked me, "Did you hear me last night?" She said she had tried to be very quiet while using the bathroom so as not to wake us up. So...she is grown-up AND considerate. What a winner!