There are some days I wish Rachel would never grow up. Today is one of those days.

Here's why: we somehow got into a conversation about gymnastics and the Olympics, and Rachel decided she wanted to watch the Olympics on TV tonight (after we played in the park across from school with Sadie, one of her little friends). She was enchanted by my suggestion that we watch the Olympics in our jammies. We got home, had a quick dinner -- I am eating down every food item we have in the freezer in an attempt to continue the decluttering process I began earlier this year -- and then we walked upstairs...only to find men's swimming. Which was perfectly fine with Rachel; she got to explain the Olympics to her My Little Pony figurines. During a commercial she insisted on changing into her jammies and asked me to do so, too (I ended up staying in my clothing) and she snuggled up against me on the loveseat and finally gymnastics came on.

I would say that my commentary was on par with the TV folks. I pointed out to Rachel why the American women gymnasts did so much better on the vault that their Russian counterparts. "The Russians were TERRIBLE!" I said, and there is nothing funnier than hearing a 4-year-old echo, "The Russians were TERRIBLE!" several times as she went to bed. "I like it with just you and me," Rachel said as she snuggled up to me while watching the competition.

I had told her that because she got to watch the Olympics, we wouldn't have time for a story. "How about cuddling in bed?" she asked hopefully. "I don't think so," I answered. "Are you OK with that?" "Sort of," she answered sadly, so I gave in and we sang "Roll on Columbia" (her current obsession) together. Afterward we had this exchange:

Me (kissing Rachel goodnight): Thank you for being my daughter.
Rachel: Thank you for being my mommy.
Me: It's my pleasure!
Rachel: It's my pleasure being your daughter!

***

Other things Rachel said tonight:

"I like the endings of stories. 'Cause 'they lived happily ever after' is a good ending!"

"Do you love me even when I'm naughty?" Rachel asked during dinner.
"Of course!" I answered. "Why do you ask?
"I wanna know," she answered.

We were listening to "Free to Be You and Me," and the song was about a girl who didn't like her grandma. At one point in the song, she yelled at her -- and immediately apologized after the grandma started to cry.

"She shouldn't have yelled at her grandma," Rachel said. "I will NEVER do that do you, Grandma, or Grandpa."

Couldn't help myself. I teared up a bit.

Social Sunday

Today is one reason why it can be frustrating (in a good way) living here. Winters are miserable, I hate the rain, you'd expect that people would want to socialize then, right? WRONG. This morning it was our turn to host the monthly meeting of the chavurah, which we did at Laurelhurst Park, at the very picnic table where we had Rachel's birthday three weeks ago! (although, PopPop, there were no weird people trying to have a memorial service this time, so Drew was able to affix the permit to the table). It was a really small gathering -- everyone, it seems, is taking their kid to camp this weekend, or picking their kid up from camp, or getting ready to go on vacation. It was also quite cloudy and cool -- I wore three layers of clothes, including my fleece, only to change into a sleeveless shirt and shorts later in the day. We all had a good time; Rachel and Drew went to the play structure and she amazed him with her ability to WALK ACROSS THE MONKEY BARS ALL BY HERSELF!! I can't wait to watch her do it tomorrow night after school, assuming we go to a park. Meanwhile, I sat and chatted with folks, who inhaled my strawberry bread (poor Rachel never even got a slice, I should have held some back for her) and ate bagels and lox.

Around 1 p.m. everyone left and Rachel and I dropped Drew off at home while she and I continued to a community center for a pool birthday party. I was really stunned by how cool the place was -- there's an entire swimming pool just for kids, with a big water slide, lots of water toys, water that squirts out from the side of the pool, etc. Rachel did well with her water wings but still refuses to put her head and face in the water, so I, well, kind of forced her by saying gaily, "one, two, THREE!" and dunking her whole head underwater twice. Oh, she was unhappy and cried, even after I told her that if she ever wants to visit Auntie Anne and Uncle David at their place in the San Juans, and be able to get in a kayak, she needs to really learn how to swim. I'm growing increasingly frustrated with the laggard pace that Portland Parks & Recreation teaches kids how to swim.

Rachel was very well behaved at the party -- no signs of jealousy, and she thanked Linda (the mom) profusely for the cupcakes. We played in the pool a little more after snacks, then it was time to head home. I gardened for about a half hour, then came in and prepared mustard chicken while Drew roasted potatoes and prepared the salad. I ate quickly then went back out and continued gardening, filling six bags with weeds. Ugh. I am apparently allergic to something in my garden; I got hives all over my arm and my face is itching. I took Benadryl and I'm hoping it won't make me feel groggy tomorrow.

I was kind of grumpy when I got back in from gardening; whenever I'm cross or anxious, Rachel always senses it and without a word, she wrapped her arms around my legs and gave me a big hug. She also thanked me for making dinner and said how much she loves my chicken. I am so lucky to have such a grateful child.

Shabbat on the Plaza, Part 2

Last night was Shabbat on the Plaza. We had a lovely time even though our usual rabbi and his wife, the cantor, were away managing Camp Kalsman (i.e. Jewish summer camp) and the new associate rabbi, Rachel Joseph (and  yes, I did point that out to my daughter that they share the same name) was a bit stiff. The weather was perfect -- it had been cloudy earlier in the day but at around 4:30 the clouds burned off and the sun came out and the temperature rose to 75 degrees.

Next to us was a little girl named Naomi. She turned out to be 5; lives in Happy Valley (the suburbs, far away from us) and she was there with her mom, her mom's mom and her dad. Rachel started a conversation with her (typical Rachel; wherever we go, she seems to reach out and make friends) and they ended up dancing across the lawn, Rachel in her beautiful pink lace dress, and racing around the outside of the synagogue -- after the service was over, of course. Drew got into a discussion with the husband, who is pursuing a Ph.D in physics at Portland State; and I had an intense conversation with the mom about exercise and gym shoes. It went on much longer than I wanted to, but I sensed she wanted to keep talking (and of course, the girls were having a ball playing.  We all exchanged cards at the end; it would be fun to get together for a playdate sometime.

Then we went home, Drew put Rachel to bed and I gorged on the opening ceremonies of the Olympics. I can't wait to watch gymnastics with Rachel. Tonight as she was saying goodnight to me she said, "I love having mommy-daughter dates!" I couldn't agree more, sweetie.

Summer in Portland, please don't end

Had a lovely day today, even though much of it was consumed with getting the last stories written and edited for the magazine. Drew took Rachel to swim lessons and the farmer's market while I worked; when they got home I biked to my pedicurist, raced home and mixed up the batter for popovers and put them in the oven. (Popovers! Popovers! How can I not have made them until now??) Then I put the special spread I make for steaks over the buffalo and beef, and we grilled.

Later on we went to an artisan place called Salt and Straw in North Portland that I've been dying to try, but the line is always too long. Tonight we decided to brave the crowd, and a nice group of women let us go ahead of them because Rachel, typically, was being adorable. Drew got a chocolate malt; Rachel got chocolate with gooey brownies, and I got blueberry with key lime marmalade. Unbelievable mix of flavors, which the place specializes in (I don't yet have the stomach for pear bleu cheese ice cream).

On the way home Rachel asked us to sing AGAIN "Roll on Columbia." Not quite the same as singing it along the Columbia River, where we were recently (more on that later) but she is obsessed with the song and was asking all sorts of questions about the lyrics, which are quite involved. So I ended up explaining that Tom Jefferson, our third president, sent a bunch of white people, led by Lewis & Clark, to explore the West. And they did some good things, like bring back samples of plants, and flowers, and things to eat, and they were able to tell him what was there, but they also did some bad things, like steal the land of the Native Americans who lived there (I didn't have the heart to tell her that our house sits on stolen land). Not quite sure that I didn't botch the explanation, but I did my best.

Gratitude, a hundredfold

Last night at dinner, Rachel said, "Thank you AGAIN for the play kitchen!"

That makes three times she's thanked us for her birthday present. She's got the gratitude thing down so well, maybe it's time to formally start her Jewish education with the concept of tzedakah. Looking for a colorful box so we can all start practicing.

Rachel and Mommy's adventure

I try to think of activities that Rachel and I can do when Drew is in Seattle. This week was no exception: on Monday we bought a birthday gift for her friend Devin, who is having a pool party for her birthday this Sunday. Then we got home, ate a quick dinner, I cleaned up, and then we walked to the playground down the street and Rachel showed me all the cool things she can do on the play structure. I got her home, washed and brushed, in bed, cuddled and a story told -- all by 9:30. Yay!

Last night we hung out in the park across the street from Rachel's preschool with her friend Sadie from school and Sadie's parents, Joe and Mims. Sadie and Rachel took turns climbing up the oblong concrete block that is at the heart of the park, and at my direction I told them to run an obstacle course -- touching the tree, the bench, the oblong block, etc. (it's a trick I picked up from another parent last week who I was trying to talk to, and she ended up sending her daughter and Rachel running around the park like bandits, trying to do what she said. Brilliant).

Sadie, Joe and Mims left soon after, and soon a couple drifted into view with a small group of friends. The woman had tattoos up and down her arm and was wearing a cream-colored, long dress that looked like a wedding dress. The guy was wearing jeans and a plaid shirt. An elderly man who I mistook for an officiant was wearing a tie and a nice shirt and pants. Their friends were dressed casually. It looked like everyone was there for a wedding.

Rachel and I discussed whether the woman was wearing a wedding dress or just a fancy dress.

"You ask her," I said.
"No, YOU ask her!" she said.
"No, YOU ask her!" I said back.
"I can't," Rachel protested. "I'm shy."

Turns out they were, in fact, getting married. They seemed delighted that we'd asked. "You can be our witnesses!" the bride said. Soon the officiant arrived, and Rachel and I sat a respectful distance from the couple as they exchanged their vows and rings. They kissed, the woman said, "we're married, everyone!", someone suggested celebrating, and Rachel and I quietly left. "We saw a WEDDING!" we kept telling each other last night. "Not everyone gets to see a wedding like that. Usually, you have to be invited."

The park is usually filled with questionable characters (read: skanky people) and I don't particularly like hanging out there, but I figure it's good for Rachel to be exposed to lots of different people and situations. It's safe, so as long as I keep my eye on her then there's no reason to be concerned. The bride last night looked as if she had gotten out of rehab and her groom didn't look like he was particularly prosperous, either.

But for just a few minutes, the park became a place of renewal for two people who looked as if they really needed it. "It's been a tough road," the elderly man said (he turned out to be the bride's father, not the officiant) and I thought how beautiful it was for two people, who looked like they'd had a hard life so far, had enough hope and faith in the rest of their lives to marry.

I'm glad Rachel got to see that.

dinnertime battles

We were having a nice, albeit late, Shabbat dinner tonight (the lamb chops took twice the amount of time they usually take to cook, probably because the meat was cut so thickly) when Rachel started slowing things down, as she usually does. She tried to tell funny stories, interrupt us once or twice, and generally just didn't get down to business and eat, even though she claimed she loved the lamb.

It was when she dropped her carrot that Drew got really mad. "No dessert," he said sternly, explaining that she had to stop fooling around and eat. She started sobbing, but she did being chewing on her carrots. Then she got up and gave us both hugs, but we weren't as warm with her as we usually are. I was mentally and physically exhausted (didn't get much sleep last night worrying about my car), and Drew was exasperated.

We put her to bed as quickly as possible (and no, we didn't give in on dessert) and Drew was still so mad that he moved a clock Mom and Dad brought me from Europe years ago, the one that hangs near the kitchen counter, to the wall nearest Rachel. He is determined to teach her how to tell time, so she understands what we mean when he tells her it's late and she needs to finish eating. Now.

I didn't have the heart to tell him that kids don't usually tell time until they're 6 or so.

I hate it when Shabbat is ruined, but Drew eats breakfast AND dinner with Rachel and sees first-hand how difficult it is to get her to focus on finishing her food. She's pretty good when it's just us, but that's because I'm constantly pointing at her plate and saying, "Eat. Eat. Less talking, more eating." It does get to be wearing after a while. I hope she grows out of it, and quickly.

whew!

That's the sigh of relief you hear from Oregon, meaning I don't have to buy a new car. Last night I was driving home from the OAJC event when I noticed my headlights were out. No problem, I figured I'd just take the car in today and get a new light.

Well, it turned out to be much more serious than that. I couldn't make the dashboard and other lights turn off when I closed the car door, and there was that persistent hum that happens whenever I leave my keys in the ignition (even though I'd taken them out). Drew disconnected the battery with some help from AAA, and we all assumed it was an electrical short, with me assuming that it would cost $2,000 to fix. No way would I pour that much into a car whose odometer broke last October -- at 217,000 miles.

I managed to take it to a Nissan dealer in Salem today...and it turns out I just need a new headlight switch that will only cost $300 (plus the annoying tendency for my signal wand to make a clicking sound at random may disappear, we don't know yet). Now if only I could figure out why white smoke occasionally curls upward from the steering wheel. The service guys couldn't figure that out.

My new financial plan is to keep the car running with spit and Duct tape until Rachel starts kindergarten (or, more likely, first grade) and we pay much less for full-day kindergarten and aftercare than we do for her preschool. So, at this time next year, I'll be in the market for a new car, just around the time when the dealers will be trying to unload the 2013 model year. If I can grit my teeth and wait until 2014 -- and celebrate the car's 15th anniversary -- I will. It's long past being an annoying tween and is well into the cranky adolescent stage. Time for it to get a new family.

trip to the dentist!

Rachel did so well at Dr. Mike McKeel's on Thursday. He's our family dentist -- no need for a pediatric dentist for my little girl -- and Rachel was so calm in the dentist's chair that the hygenist told Drew that she wished Rachel could teach other kids how to behave at the dentist. (This was true from the very first time we took her. I had visions of her screaming and thrashing around, but she was perfectly fine. We never even had to sit her on our laps!). As for her teeth, Dr. Mike said, "these are the healthiest teeth I've seen anywhere." So..clean bill of health.

Rachel got a stash of dental loot they give to kids, including a mask and gloves. When they were heading back to Portland (Dr. Mike's office is in Gresham), Drew noticed that, while in the car seat, Rachel had pulled on the mask AND the gloves! He said she looked adorable, just like a little dentist, and when he asked her what she was thinking about, she said, "I'm thinking of being a dentist."

Hey, Drew pointed out, they make good money.

That wasn't the end of it. Last night, while I was at an event for the Oregon Area Jewish Committee, Rachel and Drew spent the evening on their own. When Drew went into Rachel's room, she was playing "dentist" with Sophie Jewish, the doll that Daniella, Darryl and Valerie got her for her birthday (thanks again, guys! Hope you got Rachel's thank-you note!). Rachel had on her mask and gloves...and she had found her old small flashlight and was checking Sophie's teeth! I wish I'd been there. Sounds hilarious.

Gratitude & kindergarten

Rachel expressed gratitude AGAIN for the play kitchen we got her for her birthday. On the way to Powell's tonight, again apropos of nothing, she said, "thank you again for the kitchen area." I am amazed at her ability to be so gracious. Tonight when I was rushing around after we got back -- unloading the dishwasher, changing out of my work clothes, bringing her laundry upstairs (she had peed in her bed last night, something that seems to happen only when Drew is gone, hmmm....) -- she said seriously, "I'm sorry, Mommy, that you have to do all the work." Later she put her arms around my leg and hugged me, and when I said thank you and asked her why she was doing that she answered, "because you're tired."

Is there any question as to why I love this kid?

***

Most of Rachel's friends have gone up to kindergarten. They're 4 1/2 but I still think Rachel is ready to join them, and yes, I know she just turned 4. I asked Patrick, the head of the school, if there was any way she could start early and he said no (very nicely); the kids who are little and start kindergarten really struggle because they start them reading and writing right away. I still think she's ready because she is, literally, teaching herself how to read.

Tonight I asked the same question of Teacher Erin. She paused and said, yes, that Rachel is ready for kindergarten. Then she paused again and said slowly, "she's a really smart kid."

I responded that I don't want to be overbearing but I do want to push Rachel, and Teacher Erin nodded. I would love to try to get her into kindergarten or 1st grade early at our neighborhood school, Alameda Elementary, but I just don't know if that's feasible. Rachel isn't a prodigy, after all; she's just very smart. But I hate the idea of not pushing her to reach her potential.

The issue may be moot in a couple of months -- they're talking of forming a class of 2- and 3-year-olds and 4- and 5-year-olds, so maybe Rachel will get the enrichment she needs, anyway. I'm going to have a longer discussion with Patrick next month. Meanwhile I will check into the idea of her starting kindergarten at Alameda early.

book reading

I was listening to a really interesting radio interview this morning with a local author, Pauls Toutonghi, who wrote a book called "Evil Knievel Days" about a half-Egyptian guy who goes to Egypt with his father to discover his heritage. The book sounded terrific and at the very end of the interview the author said he would do a reading at Powell's tonight. So...guess what I decided to do? Go to it, with Rachel of course.

When I picked her up from school tonight I told her where we were headed. "You go on the best mommy/daughter dates EVER!" said Teacher Erin. We played for a bit in the park across the street from school, then headed to a pizza place across the street from Powell's called "Sizzle Pie." It actually has pretty decent pizza. I promised Rachel we could read at least ONE BOOK before the reading, and of course she picked out another fairy book. We got to the reading just in time for it to start.

The reading was good but the author seemed very unprepared even though this is his second book and he teaches at Lewis & Clark. At one point he had his wife, also a writer, accompany him on guitar, singing a song he mentioned in the book (and I had to wince at her voice). Much less polished than the reading we went to a few weeks ago for a friend and former Oregonian colleague, Peter Zuckerman, who wrote a book about K2 (currently one of Rachel's obsessions these days). Peter is a first-time author and between reading and questions afterward, it was a whole hour. Tonight's reading was only 30 minutes and the guy didn't seem like he wanted to answer questions.

Rachel was very patient through the whole reading; she spent most of it curled up in my lap.

On the way home we ran into a former Oregonian colleague, Betsy Hammond, at the gas station where we'd both stopped to get gas. She exclaimed over how big Rachel is (Betsy's two sons are 11 and 13) and she knew just what questions to ask to get Rachel to talk. Here is what Betsy posted on Facebook after we left:

"How cool is it that Lisa Lednicer has taken her adorable daughter Rachel to so many Powell's readings that Rachel, age 4, can compare tonight's ("short") with Peter Zuckerman's ("better") and wonder why her grandparents didn't take Lisa Lednicer to any such bookstore events when she was super-young. Yay Rachel!"

Yay, indeed. I thanked Rachel profusely for coming with me and reminded her how much fun I have going out with her. And I do.

Play kitchen!

Yesterday we gave Rachel her big birthday gift from Mommy and Daddy (incredibly, we just hadn't found the time to do so before that). It was a play kitchen that Drew and PopPop (bless you, PopPop) set up while I was at work Wednesday. (We had actually bought it for a Hanukkah gift about a year ago and it had sat downstairs because, for various reasons, we never got around to giving it to Rachel). Anyway...it's stove/sink/refrigerator all in one, with a removable cell phone and the stove lights up and makes noise when you put pots on it. Plus it came with dishes, cups and some food. We added some play food that Auntie Jenn gave us almost two years ago, food that SHE'D had growing up but that Rachel hadn't shown much interest in because she was too little. As Drew ruefully noted, "this is nicer than OUR kitchen!"

I wish you could have seen Rachel's face as she gasped and opened her eyes wide. "Thank you so MUCH!" she exclaimed. She was so happy feeding us pretend food, and this morning she came into the bedroom as I was getting dressed and said, apropos of absolutely nothing, "thank you again for the kitchen area." It's amazing how much gratitude she shows for gifts, for dessert, for the food I make. It makes it so easy to buy her things, I need to watch myself that I don't spoil her.

When we got home from the park tonight, she went straight upstairs to her kitchen and brought me down a plate with a hot dog, chips and a chocolate bar for dessert. She told me sternly that I couldn't eat the dessert until I finished the hot dog, chips AND baked chicken and shells that I had warmed up for both of us. And then when we finished dinner, she brought everything back upstairs again and left the entire play area "neat and tidy." Oh, I love having a (mostly) neat and tidy girl.

Of course, the "neat and tidy" girl doesn't extend to playtime. Here's what she had to say at dinner:

"My name is Princess Bethany and I'm very curious."
"Why are you curious?" I asked.
"Because I want to go on adventures!' she said. And then she added, "It's very boring that other princesses stay home and comb their lovely blonde hair. It's so boring! Those are NOT the best princesses."

***

Also at dinner, Rachel told me that they had Slurpees at preschool the other day. I asked her what flavor she'd chosen and she said pink because the Slurpees apparently were flavorless; they just had color. She said there were a variety of colors ("except orange and blue, which were broken)."

"So I picked pink, of course," she explained. "Anything pink, I pick it."

And THAT, folks, is the understatement of the year.

My work on Earth is now complete

This morning I came back from running an errand to find....Rachel playing with the Jewish girl doll that Tia Daniella, Valerie and Jojo gave her for her birthday (Rachel has named her "Sophie Jewish."). Rachel was on the living room carpet taking Sophie through the Sabbat service. They were, according to Rachel, playing "Shabbat on the Plaza in Africa." (Not sure where the Africa reference comes from).

Anyway...Rachel cut up the pretend challah, poured the pretend wine, and aid a near-perfect Shabbat blessing. I was so proud of her, I had tears in my eyes. She was simultaneously playing with Sophie AND explaining to her the order of the service. Like I said above, my work on Earth is now complete!

***

We had a lovely time at a party tonight for a friend of mine from chorus, Von, who turned 65 last month but only this month had time for a party. I love it that Rachel is growing up thinking it's completely normal for a quartet of women at a party to suddenly gather together and break out into song. Rachel spent most of the time running "races" back and forth across Von's large garden, and snuggling up to Deni whom she has decided she loves very much. I could tell Deni was very touched to have an adorable little girl tell her how much she loves her, and Deni's husband Coop good-naturedly ran a couple of races against Rachel. Deni and Coop have grandkids, but they're boys and heading into adolescence. I like to think that Rachel is the granddaughter they'll never have.

Shabbat birthday blessing

One of the many lovely things our synagogue does is have Shabbat services outdoors on the plaza in front of the beautiful Byzantine-inspired temple. Rabbi Michael Cahana was a theater major in college, so he tells awesome stories and plays a mean guitar. And sings. His wife has just been named cantor, and they make a good team. The service lasts an hour and we're encouraged to bring a picnic dinner to eat afterward and mingle with folks.

We got there just after the service started -- it was "backwards day" at school, and Rachel wore her underwear and her dress inside-out, and Drew wanted to change her into one of her pretty pink dresses, the one with the white lace overlay. As soon as we got there he spread out the picnic blanket and we listened to the service, with Rachel taking turns putting her head in our laps. (I always point out the parts of the service where the name "Rachel" is mentioned, which seems to delight her). She of course was terrifically well-behaved.

After the service I got into a long conversation about law school grad employment with a guy I met from Ater Wynne, one of Portland's most prestigious law firms (this is something I really like about my job; it opens me up to meeting all kinds of interesting people and talking shop with them). Then we all sat down and ate dinner. When the rabbi stopped by, Rachel immediately jumped up and gave him a big hug when he kneeled down and asked for one. He pretended he couldn't believe she's 4. "You were only 3 last year!" he said, teasing her. I told him we've already told Rachel that she has only nine years to go before her bat mitzvah...and I'm sure the time will fly by. It's hard to believe that four years have gone by since her birth!

Then Drew said abruptly, "Tot Shabbat." Meaning he wants to start taking Rachel to the once-a-month Tot Shabbat services for kids. That meant a great deal to me that he suggested it, because we did that for a while and then dropped it when Rachel started swim lessons. I'm glad he sees the importance of starting her Jewish education early.

There were a couple of babies at the service tonight, and Rachel asked shyly if she could hold one of them, a 3-month-old girl. To my surprise, the mommy said yes, and so I sat down, took Rachel in my lap, and put the baby in HER lap. Rachel demanded that I remove my hands from the baby's head, which I was supporting, and Rachel did an excellent job of being gentle with her. She even did a fair job of supporting the head, and you could see the love and wonder on her face as she looked down at this tiny little thing. I wish more than anything that I could give her a sibling. She'd be a terrific big sister.

Tomorrow we've got swim lessons, I need to do some work in the morning and then in the evening we're going to a birthday party for a chorus friend of mine who turned 65 last month. Should be a lot of fun. On Sunday we'll do thank-you notes for Rachel's gifts and then, if we have time, we'll head to Mt. Hood to play. I passed it on my way to Bend yesterday for a business trip, and the scenery this time of year is stunning. Seriously considering heading to Bend for the Labor Day weekend if we can get a campsite or a cheap cabin. So much to do and see, it's a feast for the eyes! If we ever won the lottery, I'd love to buy a vacation home there....

Happy Birthday, Part 2

Yes, I know all of you are waiting for Part 1. Promise it will come later this week, when I have the time to really sit down and digest all the wonerfulness that we have been a part of the last week or so.

Tonight was Rachel's "real" birthday. Can it be that I really have a delightful 4-year-old in my house? How did I get to be so lucky? Rachel walked into the bathroom this morning as I was blow-drying my hair. I was really glad to see her because I had to leave early for a dentist's appointment and I really didn't want to go before I got to sing "Happy Birthday." Which I did. Twice. It was awesome. Rachel gave me a big hug on the leg.

After I got home from work (Drew had already started the baked chicken and shells), I had time to talk to Drew -- alone -- since Richard had graciously taken Rachel to the playground down the street. (This is something both of us remarked upon, that this is what it would feel like to have relatives in town who'd take Rachel off somewhere, if only for a little while, so we could get things done around the house. And maybe go on a date or two).

Richard said Rachel exhausted him with everything she's able to do on the playground -- including scaling the kiddie climbing wall. "I'm climbing K2!" she exclaimed. "And I'm climbing it without even DYING! Are you SO PROUD of me?"

Yes, Rachel, we're always proud of you -- even if you never really climb K2. In fact, we would prefer that you didn't.

We spent much of the meal reminding Rachel what she used to be scared of: Grass. (As a toddler, she refused to walk on it). Mommy's hair dryer. The vacuum cleaner. The mixer. The Dustbuster. Dogs. Not much else -- this is the kid who went down the kiddie slide headfirst when she was 18 months old (scaring poor Grandma to death the one time she witnessed it).

"What things do you want to do when you grow up that you can't do as a kid?" Richard asked her. She came up with this list:
--reach the microwave
--drink tea
--drink wine
--plant stuff
--pick apples all by myself
--play a tuba
--wear bras
--have a permanent tattoo ("No!" I yelled. "Not until you're 18 and out of my house!")

It was quite a day in school, too -- the teachers were very excited to see the chocolate chip cake I baked (Teacher Erin had been hinting for weeks that it would be a really, really good idea if I baked that for Rachel's school birthday celebration) and Rachel got to wear a gold crown. "Guess what?" Rachel said at dinner. "I got to choose the blackberries and sleep in the tent; everything extra special. And I didn't tell you THIS, Mommy -- we got Slurpees! And I got pink! And I ate my Slurpee ALL GONE!"

After dinner we headed out to Baskin Robbins for a special ice cream treat -- it was blazing hot outside so that definitely helped. We all walked around a bit, then returned home. Richard read a book, I cleaned up from dinner, Drew gave Rachel a bath and put her to bed, and now we're all getting ready to leave tomorrow: Richard back to North Carolina (boo), me to Bend for a work trip, Rachel back to school and Drew back to work. Only one more day remains for the Celebration of Rachel: Shabbat on the Plaza on Friday night. It's the summer outdoor service with a special blessing for all the July birthdays. Then we'll bring Rachel home and surprise her with Mommy and Daddy's big present.

Happy birthday, darling girl! You are a way better daughter than either of us deserve.

Rachel knows a lot more than I think she does

One of the toys Rachel got for her birthday was a stuffed rabbit called “Doodle”, because it comes with markers that you can draw designs with on the rabbit. I decided to voice it, so now Rachel has an ongoing conversation with Doodle as she tries to explain the world to her (it’s apparently a “she” rather than a “he”). I answer in a little squeaky voice.

Rachel is apparently Doodle’s big sister, which breaks my heart because I can see what a wonderful big sister she really would be if I had had the foresight to give her a sibling (preferably a baby brother; she’d be great at it). She has taken to explaining to Doodle how the world works. Here’s how she was describing Earth:

“We live on Earth. It’s not like other planets that are too hot or too cold. It’s not too warm, not too hot, not too breezy and not too stormy. It’s just right.”

(OK, it sounded suspiciously like a description of the three bears’ porridge. But still…I was impressed she even has a rudimentary sense of our solar system. Way to go Rachel!)

Then she started describing a house: “We live in a house. Some people live in houses but they don’t have enough money for beds or for furniture. So we can give them money.”

I have no idea where she picked that up, but let me tell you, it was entertaining as hell listening to her in the front seat. I could listen to her little voice go on for HOURS.

Something new we’ve started: A variation on the game of each of us thinking of a new word that matches the first letter of the word we just said. Now we think of opposites (I taught her the word “antonym” and “synonym” tonight. We did a little of both). It was really fun; I hope she continues to be interested.

Best thing about last night, after a rough day at work: As we cuddled in bed, she wanted me to sing one verse of a song we know, and she sings the next, then I pick it up, etc. She made up this idea herself. So tonight we each sang a verse of “Red River Valley” and “You Are My Sunshine.” She really has a lovely little voice and it was so great to be able to sing together. I’m hoping someday we can do duets at the piano or guitar, with her strumming or fingering the keys and both of us trading off verses.

Sometimes I can’t believe how far we’ve come.

Mommy makes a big mistake

Last night I took Rachel to see “Brave,” the new Disney movie about a free-spirited Scottish princess whose mother, the queen, wants her to be decorous and obedient and marry a young man from one of the area clans, but the princess, a master with a bow and arrow, has other ideas and instead clashes with the queen so much that the princess finally visits a witch and asks for a spell that will make her mother change her mind about marrying her off. Well, the spell goes awry, the mom gets changed into a bear, and then it’s the princess’ job to undo the spell. All ends happily, with the mother hugging the daughter and the daughter and her mom going on a horse ride out in the wilderness together.

You could imagine how verklempt that would make me. I was dying to take Rachel to this movie because it was the first one Disney has made with a tough heroine with messy hair and a mind of her own. We got hot dogs and popcorn beforehand (“Save the popcorn for the show, Mommy,” Rachel ordered me severely) and then went into the movie. Our first mother-daughter date! Mommy and Rachel going to see a real chick flick! Just the start of many, many movies we’ll see together!

Um, not so much. Rachel was terrified. TERRIFIED. At one point she started sobbing and then said, “I don’t EVER want to see this movie again!” I can’t blame her. I was furious at Disney for promoting this as an animated kids’ flick when, really, it was more suitable for kids who are, like, 10. (My fault; it’s rated PG, but still). I am done with any movie that isn’t “My Little Pony.” Rachel is just too young and sweet for any nastiness, although she keeps telling us to tell her spooky stories, so…I guess I thought she was ready for “Brave.” I guess not.

I apologized more than once for taking her to a scary movie. “It’s OK Mom,” she said reassuringly after I soothed her with a chocolate cupcake when we got home. “I forgive you.”

But mostly I was frustrated and mad at myself. It was I who projected my desires onto Rachel – my desire to see the movie and share the experience with the daughter who is way more wonderful than I deserve – and instead I ended up traumatizing her. Is this what’s going to happen when I push her into playing the piano, or studying math and science, or taking up baseball, when all she really wants to do is be a shepherdess in the San Juans when she grows up? Sigh.

Cute Rachel sayings:

“I can’t WAIT to grow up!” She said while we were eating dinner at the movie theater last night.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because…I can get married,” she said.

“What’s so great about being married?” I asked.

“Because I can have a wedding dress!” she said.

Um, there’s a lot more to marriage than that, kid.

“Guess what?” she said. “On Thursday PopPop’s gonna leave. That’s a bummer!”

Yeah, it is.

Great conversation snippets with TLG

It's kind of one-way these days; Rachel sitting in the back seat while I drag her around on errands and she pipes up with, "Hey Mommy, guess what?" and we're off to the races. I can barely keep up, let alone write things down..."

Tonight on the way to the craft store to buy all manner of decorations for her cake:

"Know what my three favorite lunches are? Rollups, peanut butter and jelly, and cheese quesadillas."

"Can you believe it's day and summer, and in Australia it's dark and winter? It's the opposite!"

"What's the universe?"

"You know what? There's a lot of stars in the woods. I'm not scared. Are you scared?"

Only that soon I won't be able to keep up with you, sweetie.

A few words about Free to be...you and me

I don't know how we came into possession of this recording from the 1970s, but...wow. Rachel put it in the CD player the other day and she has fallen in love with the story of Atalanta, retold for then-modern audiences and partly voiced by Alan Alda. I'm really amazed at how well it has held up.

A few of the songs made me cry. One of them is about a boy named William who loves playing with dolls...as well as baseball, badminton, etc. His father is worried, his older brother calls him an idiot, and then it's wise Grandma who takes his father aside (I'm guessing Grandma is the dad's mom, not the mom's mom) and tells him to stop worrying, that it's great that William likes to play with dolls because he'll have to diaper and hold and love his OWN little kids one day. It made me cry because more than 30 years after this CD came out, we are STILL assigning (if unconsciously) gender stereotypes to boys and girls. Witness all the fuss over the blog and, eventually, the book deal from the mom who was outraged when fellow moms at her boy's school tsk-tsked when her son insisted on wearing girl clothes. I fear we really haven't come very far since then.

There's also another song about a kid who has no friends; he has just moved to a new town and he meets Naomi, who also has no friends, so they form a "no friends" club. The kid describes himself and his life in the sort of stream-of-consciousness fashion that made me wonder if he's autistic. Certainly something not many people talked about 30 years ago.

And there's a girl whose grandma comes over when the girl's parents go on vacation. The grandma is scolding and grumpy and the song changes into a song about "Goodbye to Girl-Land," or something like that, and it made me stop and pause and wonder if I'm too grumpy and tired and anxious and worried (yes). I hate to think that will be Rachel's memories of me when she was a little girl.

Anyway, it's a great CD and I'm glad I (re)discovered it. As to the gender stereotyping, there's not much of that going on in my house. Rachel may be way into princesses and pink and purple and fairies and unicorns and wands and sparkles, but for her birthday party Drew has bought...water guns. For everyone. Heaven help us.

The stuff she says....

Picked up Rachel from preschool today and we went straight to Grant Park, where she showed me all the things she can do on the play structure there. About the only thing she CAN'T do is the monkey bars by herself, but I'm sure she'll master it by the end of the summer. Then it's a race to find something that will challenge her. Rock climbing, anyone??

***

"Know who would like a milk fountain?" Rachel asked at dinner tonight.
"No," I answered. "Who?"
"A COW," she said.
That makes sense.

***

Introducing Drew, the Dark Ages expert:
"Did you know that in the old days, taking a bath in water wwas bad for you?" Rachel asked tonight.
"Who told you that?" I asked, amused.
"Daddy!" she answered.

***

I was wondering aloud how Noah, who will be the sole boy at Rachel's party Saturday, would feel being, well, the only boy there.

"He'll be OK," Rachel said reassuringly.
"You don't think he'll be lonely?" I asked.
"No, he'll be with me!" she said.  "We're friends!"

***

Apropos of nothing, Rachel announced tonight:
"When I go to college, I can wear my hair whatever I want. I can wear it long, or in braids, or short, and that kind of stuff."
Sweetie, I think you'll be wanting control over your hair long before then....

***

Who is this child? I told Rachel she needed to clean up the living-room picnic and block castle she'd built before dinner. It was getting late and we needed to do books, washing, brushing, etc.
"I'll help you," I offered, leaning down to pick up the tea set (the one that Tia Daniella got her and she uses EVERY SINGLE NIGHT, Thank You Tia Daniella!!)
"No! Do not help me!" Rachel insisted. "I did it. You did not!"

Showtime!

Today my chorus, Pride of Portland, is performing twice -- once at a matinee and then again at night. It's part of the men's international convention, which is here in Portland over the July 4th holiday. Rachel got the chance to see me get ready this morning; our call for a 2 p.m. performance was at 11 a.m. and I started getting ready around 9:30 (the venue, an auditorium at the University of Portland, is about 20 minutes away). Since we're under stage lights, our makeup is quite heavy -- Drew says it looks like I've used a trowel to apply it, and he's right. When I finished, Rachel and Drew were getting ready to head to a haircut appointment for her. She looked at my face and said, "Wow, you're wearing A LOT of makeup!" I gave her a little bit of colored lip gloss to make her feel like she's a part of the team, and then they left.

The performance went really well, and the best part was having Drew and Rachel in the audience. When we finished we walked up into the seating area and Rachel immediately ran over to me and sat in my lap. She had gotten her face painted at the Tigard farmer's market and the face painter did a really good job; Rachel's forehead had a unicorn on it, with hearts and flowers curling near the sides of her eyes, which were covered in purple eyeshadow. Everyone remarked how cute she looked and how big she was getting, and one of the chorus members, Annie Hardt, reminded Rachel that she had seen her just after she was born (it's true, Annie came to visit me in the hospital a few hours after my C-section).

Rachel, by the way, LOVED our performance. "Maybe Ryan will let me sing on the stage with you," she said wistfully, and tried to find him when it was over. "You're the goodest chorus in the whole WORLD!" she said, and everyone was delighted to hear the compliment. Now I'm home for a short break and then I'll head back to UP at 7:30. We're going to sing at around 8:15 or so, the show should be over by 9 and then I'll come home and probably clean the house for two hours before collapsing into bed. What a weekend!!

Today's Rachelisms:

"In Rachel Land, there are no school days," Rachel announced while I was making the bed this morning (we've developed a game where she'll throw me the stuffed animals we keep on the bed and I'll voice the animals, which Rachel finds hilarious). She was lying on the pillows while I changed the sheets and bed covers (it finally appears to be getting warm here!).

"None?" I asked. "What do you do all day?"

"We go shopping," Rachel said. "And everyone buys things for ME."

Oh, wouldn't that be anyone's fondest wish?

***

"Daddy, you can't mess things up," Rachel told Drew at breakfast. "No knocking down castles that Mommy and I build."

Literally or figuratively? I didn't ask.