..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.
Sunday, October 28, 2012
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
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.
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?
"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?
Friday, October 19, 2012
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.
"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.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
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....
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....
Monday, October 15, 2012
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.
"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.
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.
Friday, October 12, 2012
A promise that Drew will hold Rachel to when she's a teenager
Tonight Rachel announced at dinner (Drew was in Seattle): "I'm never ever gonna kiss a boy except Daddy."
"Why?" I asked.
"'Cause that's what Tessa said," Rachel answered. "Kissing a boy is icky. Except Daddy."
Grandpa and PopPop, I'm sure she meant to include you as kissable, too.
***
"This is a good coat to wear because when I jump into your arms I won't feel anything scratchy!" Rachel said as I reached for my electric blue fall coat, a gift from Mom years ago. Surveying my ears, Rachel noticed with delight that I was wearing her favorite earrings, a pair of beaded drop earrings I bought a few years ago. "Your ears look like rainbow!" she said.
***
"You have the biggest blue eyes," I said to Rachel tonight. "Boys are going to want to kiss you and hug you and cuddle you. Are you going to be nice to them?"
"Do I HAVE to be nice to them?" she answered.
"YES," I said firmly.
"Oh-KAY," she answered. "I suppose."
***
Drew has taught Rachel the Oscar Meyer bologna song, and she asked that I sing it to her during Shabbat dinner. And then I could see her attempt to memorize it. The sad thing is, that commercial is STILL in my head from childhood!
***
Rachel said one of the best things she likes about being in Firefly class instead of Little Bunnies class is that the reading nook is open all day.
"I bet if you could, you'd read all day," I said.
"The teacher would say, 'don't you want to play?'" Rachel replied. "And I'd say, 'no, I want to read books all day.' And then I'd go back to reading and not play."
Yes, folks, she is definitely my daughter.
"Why?" I asked.
"'Cause that's what Tessa said," Rachel answered. "Kissing a boy is icky. Except Daddy."
Grandpa and PopPop, I'm sure she meant to include you as kissable, too.
***
"This is a good coat to wear because when I jump into your arms I won't feel anything scratchy!" Rachel said as I reached for my electric blue fall coat, a gift from Mom years ago. Surveying my ears, Rachel noticed with delight that I was wearing her favorite earrings, a pair of beaded drop earrings I bought a few years ago. "Your ears look like rainbow!" she said.
***
"You have the biggest blue eyes," I said to Rachel tonight. "Boys are going to want to kiss you and hug you and cuddle you. Are you going to be nice to them?"
"Do I HAVE to be nice to them?" she answered.
"YES," I said firmly.
"Oh-KAY," she answered. "I suppose."
***
Drew has taught Rachel the Oscar Meyer bologna song, and she asked that I sing it to her during Shabbat dinner. And then I could see her attempt to memorize it. The sad thing is, that commercial is STILL in my head from childhood!
***
Rachel said one of the best things she likes about being in Firefly class instead of Little Bunnies class is that the reading nook is open all day.
"I bet if you could, you'd read all day," I said.
"The teacher would say, 'don't you want to play?'" Rachel replied. "And I'd say, 'no, I want to read books all day.' And then I'd go back to reading and not play."
Yes, folks, she is definitely my daughter.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Things Rachel says that make me laugh
...we had one of those tonight at Sunnyside Park. Yes, I took her there instead of forcing her to sit through the vice presidential debate. So, sue me. It's the last warm, sunny day we'll have for a long, long time and I wanted to take advantage of it. Even it did mean that I let Rachel play in the dark and we didn't eat dinner until late, which means she got to bed late.
At the park, Rachel ran up to where I was sitting on a bench and said breathlessly, "Guess what that kid's name is?"
"What?" I answered.
"West," she said.
"West?" I asked.
"Yeah," she replied. "His name is a direction!"
I cracked up and gave her a high five. I really couldn't help myself.
***
We did listen to a wrap-up of the debate on the way home. One of the NPR reporters mentioned Mitt Romney by name.
"Mitt Romney! I know that guy!" Rachel said. "I seen him in the newspaper!"
At the park, Rachel ran up to where I was sitting on a bench and said breathlessly, "Guess what that kid's name is?"
"What?" I answered.
"West," she said.
"West?" I asked.
"Yeah," she replied. "His name is a direction!"
I cracked up and gave her a high five. I really couldn't help myself.
***
We did listen to a wrap-up of the debate on the way home. One of the NPR reporters mentioned Mitt Romney by name.
"Mitt Romney! I know that guy!" Rachel said. "I seen him in the newspaper!"
Lord of the (Fire) Flies
Rachel is quite chatty with us about events at school. Usually she tells us what's going on during the drive home. Lately she has told Drew about a lot of hitting, kicking and biting. Unfortunately Rachel often ends up getting bitten.
Last night, while I was at chorus rehearsal, Drew asked Rachel if the kids actually like each other. She said yes, of course. He said he'd like to start hearing some stories about how friendly everyone is.
Rachel's class is called the Firefly class, and Drew and I have nicknamed it the "Lord of the Fireflies" class because of the way the kids seem to torture each other.
This was reiterated tonight. Drew is in Seattle and Rachel and I were at dinner when all of a sudden she said, "Devin and Sadie were extremely not nice to me today. They were teasing me. They were hurting my feelings so much I had to move away from them. They've been mean to me the whole week."
"What did they say?" I asked.
"You're not my friend, you're not my friend, you're not my friend," Rachel replied in a singsong voice.
"What did you say to them?" I asked.
"Please stop," she said.
"And what did THEY say?" I answered.
"You're not my friend, you're not my friend, you're not my friend," she said.
Rachel didn't seem particularly bothered by it all so I let it go.
Last night, while I was at chorus rehearsal, Drew asked Rachel if the kids actually like each other. She said yes, of course. He said he'd like to start hearing some stories about how friendly everyone is.
Rachel's class is called the Firefly class, and Drew and I have nicknamed it the "Lord of the Fireflies" class because of the way the kids seem to torture each other.
This was reiterated tonight. Drew is in Seattle and Rachel and I were at dinner when all of a sudden she said, "Devin and Sadie were extremely not nice to me today. They were teasing me. They were hurting my feelings so much I had to move away from them. They've been mean to me the whole week."
"What did they say?" I asked.
"You're not my friend, you're not my friend, you're not my friend," Rachel replied in a singsong voice.
"What did you say to them?" I asked.
"Please stop," she said.
"And what did THEY say?" I answered.
"You're not my friend, you're not my friend, you're not my friend," she said.
Rachel didn't seem particularly bothered by it all so I let it go.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Surprise! Rachel thinks she's older than she is
"I'm a big 10-year-old girl!" Rachel said at dinner tonight.
"Really?!" I said. "When did you turn 10?"
"I turned 10 at Ponyville!" she replied.
***
Drew has a series of stories he tells Rachel about Princess Caroline, about an adventurous princess who has four princess sisters and one little brother prince, and she gets help on her adventures from her three friends: Humbert the Giant, Sir Albert the Knight, and Professor Egbert.
(Yes, Drew has the makings of a real children's book here).
Currently the storyline involves Rachel getting help from her three friends so she can compete in the "Best Princess" contest.
Tonight at dinner Rachel informed me that "Princess Caroline has a baby brother."
"What's his name?" I asked.
"Rupprecht," she said. "And you know what he did? He's like a little baby. He spitted."
When I gently inquired about Rupprecht's name, Drew got a tad defensive. I can't wait to see how this series ends. Dad, remember the stories you told Daniella and me about Julie and Kathy, the girls who ran away to the circus to be with Bozo the Clown? Why is it that men in the family come up with such great stories? Maybe because the mommies are busy cooking and cleaning and running the house??
"Really?!" I said. "When did you turn 10?"
"I turned 10 at Ponyville!" she replied.
***
Drew has a series of stories he tells Rachel about Princess Caroline, about an adventurous princess who has four princess sisters and one little brother prince, and she gets help on her adventures from her three friends: Humbert the Giant, Sir Albert the Knight, and Professor Egbert.
(Yes, Drew has the makings of a real children's book here).
Currently the storyline involves Rachel getting help from her three friends so she can compete in the "Best Princess" contest.
Tonight at dinner Rachel informed me that "Princess Caroline has a baby brother."
"What's his name?" I asked.
"Rupprecht," she said. "And you know what he did? He's like a little baby. He spitted."
When I gently inquired about Rupprecht's name, Drew got a tad defensive. I can't wait to see how this series ends. Dad, remember the stories you told Daniella and me about Julie and Kathy, the girls who ran away to the circus to be with Bozo the Clown? Why is it that men in the family come up with such great stories? Maybe because the mommies are busy cooking and cleaning and running the house??
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
The things this one says....
So, the hacking cough is gone but the post-nasal drip remains. I am very tired and lethargic but slowly getting better, just in time to head to international competition and then to Africa on a reporting trip for the magazine I edit. I have checked my schedule and I believe I will have time to really relax in...mid-February.
Nevertheless, Rachel and I have had a delightful two days alone together. A sample of her wit:
***
"Guess what Ava was doing at the lunch table?" Rachel said last night. "Chewing with her mouth open!"
"Did you say anything?" I asked.
"I was trying to stop her but she wouldn't listen," she said.
***
I took the last of the antibiotics yesterday, not that I believe they've done a damn thing.
"What if ants were on your antibiotics?" Rachel asked. "You would be TERRIFIED. Ants all over the bottle. Trying to eat your medicine!"
***
Today she truly astonished me. I was helping wash her hands and face after breakfast when all of a sudden Rachel said, "Who's God?"
"Depends on who you ask," I replied.
"I'm asking YOU!" she said.
"Some people believe God is a he, and others believe God is a she, and some people don't believe God exists at all," I explained.
"I believe in God," Rachel said.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because she saved us from the war? Of the Jewish people?" Rachel said, looking at me. "She saved us from dying. And that's why I believe she exists."
Folks, I don't make up these conversations, they really happen. Neither Drew nor I know where she gets these ideas from.
***
I followed her above comment up with the following:
"Sometimes the things you say are so smart and clever, you take my breath away," I said.
"You take my breath away, too," she replied.
"Why?" I said.
"Because of what you said," she replied.
Really, it was all I could do not to cover her face with kisses.
***
"I'm going to take all my money in my piggy bank and put it into the tzedakah box, so I won't have any money!" Rachel said as we left for school.
"Well, you want to keep SOME money, right?" I asked.
"I'm not OLD enough to have money!" she exclaimed.
***
On the way to school Rachel and I were listening to a talk show and the host mentioned a factory fire in Pakistan last month that killed 300 people. The host compared it to the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire in 1911 that changed the way factories were run.
I started telling Rachel about the Triangle fire; she interrupted me and said, "I know that story, Mommy," and then proceeded to tell me the entire tale of the fire -- including the fact that it was "like 200 years ago, before you and Daddy and PopPop and Grandma and Grandpa were born." I didn't have the heart to correct her.
Nevertheless, Rachel and I have had a delightful two days alone together. A sample of her wit:
***
"Guess what Ava was doing at the lunch table?" Rachel said last night. "Chewing with her mouth open!"
"Did you say anything?" I asked.
"I was trying to stop her but she wouldn't listen," she said.
***
I took the last of the antibiotics yesterday, not that I believe they've done a damn thing.
"What if ants were on your antibiotics?" Rachel asked. "You would be TERRIFIED. Ants all over the bottle. Trying to eat your medicine!"
***
Today she truly astonished me. I was helping wash her hands and face after breakfast when all of a sudden Rachel said, "Who's God?"
"Depends on who you ask," I replied.
"I'm asking YOU!" she said.
"Some people believe God is a he, and others believe God is a she, and some people don't believe God exists at all," I explained.
"I believe in God," Rachel said.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because she saved us from the war? Of the Jewish people?" Rachel said, looking at me. "She saved us from dying. And that's why I believe she exists."
Folks, I don't make up these conversations, they really happen. Neither Drew nor I know where she gets these ideas from.
***
I followed her above comment up with the following:
"Sometimes the things you say are so smart and clever, you take my breath away," I said.
"You take my breath away, too," she replied.
"Why?" I said.
"Because of what you said," she replied.
Really, it was all I could do not to cover her face with kisses.
***
"I'm going to take all my money in my piggy bank and put it into the tzedakah box, so I won't have any money!" Rachel said as we left for school.
"Well, you want to keep SOME money, right?" I asked.
"I'm not OLD enough to have money!" she exclaimed.
***
On the way to school Rachel and I were listening to a talk show and the host mentioned a factory fire in Pakistan last month that killed 300 people. The host compared it to the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire in 1911 that changed the way factories were run.
I started telling Rachel about the Triangle fire; she interrupted me and said, "I know that story, Mommy," and then proceeded to tell me the entire tale of the fire -- including the fact that it was "like 200 years ago, before you and Daddy and PopPop and Grandma and Grandpa were born." I didn't have the heart to correct her.
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