You may recall that a few days before Thanksgiving I explained to Rachel that "the Funny Man," a street performer who entertained passersby at the Hawthorne Bridge onramp, had died. Today, on the way in to school, she reminded me that she had wanted to add something to the makeshift memorial at his former spot. I said, "Do you want to do that tonight, after school?" and she said she did, so we spent the rest of the drive planning what she wanted to do.
So when I came to pick her up tonight, I brought with me a yellow balloon Rachel had in her closet and some markers. She very carefully wrote her name, and (with my help) a heart next to it, on the balloon. On the other side she drew (again with help, but not too much) a picture of a princess wearing a purple crown. Then we drove down and parked near the bridge entrance and walked up to the memorial.
As I tied the balloon onto a music stand, Rachel looked over the other items people had left. I explained that sometimes when people die who meant a lot to people, they leave things to show how much they miss him, and then I asked if she wanted to say anything to the Funny Man as if he were there.
"Bye, Funny Man! I love you and I'll miss you!" Then, "Was that good, Daddy?"
Perfect, sweetheart.
Then we walked back to the car. It was chilly and windy, and I'd complained a bit about the cold on the way up. Rachel took my left hand and held it in her two mittened hands, and asked "Does that help, Daddy?"
"It sure does, sweetie. Whenever I'm with you, you make me warm inside my heart."
"But that doesn't help, Daddy, because you're warm in your heart but the rest of your body is cold."
"Well, sweetie, the warm goes out from my heart and all through my body."
Then we drove to Powell's for a bit of book-reading, and on the way she said "It's too bad the Funny Man died, because he would have made an awesome clown." Then we had another in our continuing series of discussions about which kids at school bite other kids.
At Powell's we sat down to read some Pinkalicious books (see previous post if you're not up on the Pinkalicious oeuvre), and a little girl came over to watch. I invited her to join us (she turned out to be a 6-year-old named Bella), and she took Rachel in hand to look for more books. Then, after we started, another little girl came over and we invited her to sit down with us. Her name was Evva (spelling approximate), she was 7, and she and her family were visiting from Boulder because they were on a book tour with her father, who was reading from his book that night (right next to the kids' area, in fact). So I had an audience of 3 girls, which I have to say was pretty cool. Also cool was the way Bella and Evva accepted Rachel as a peer, even though she's only 4. And no one got bit, which to my mind is always key.
Monday, November 26, 2012
Saturday, November 24, 2012
Pretty much a perfect day
What else could you call a day that began with Rachel and I Skyping with Lisa (she's 10 hours ahead of Pacific Standard Time, so it was just about dinnertime for her when we rang) and ended with the two of us dancing around the attic after having had a pizza-and-movie night?
The centerpiece of our day: I surprised Rachel with tickets to "Pinkalicious," a musical version of one of her favorite books. She'd seen it with her class when it came to town earlier this year, but it's back for a short return engagement. Rachel saw a flyer for it one day while we were out shopping, and I told her that "maybe" we could go see it while Mom was away.
So after we finished our Skype call with Lisa, Rachel asked what we were doing today, and I responded by telling her I had a surprise and pulling out the tickets. She asked what they were for, and I said, "Why don't you try reading it?" She got as far as "Pink..." when the light bulb popped on over her head. She shouted "Pinkalicious!" and danced around the living room in joy.
Before the show we took advantage of the rare non-rainy November day and hit the Portland Farmers Market, one of the last ones of the year. I picked up some ingredients for duck soup (one of Rachel's favorites, which I plan to make for next week's Shabbat dinner), and Rachel had an al fresco lunch (some fontina cheese, a very tasty "pretzel roll" from Delphina's bakery, a pear and part of a pumpkin-chocolate-chip cookie). As is often the case people kept giving Rachel things -- a little red change purse left behind at one stall, a fistful of colorful wool at another. I like to think they appreciate a polite, well-behaved child when they see one.
Then onto the show. For those of you without little girls in your lives, "Pinkalicious" is about the title character, a girl who loves all things pink. She eats too many pink cupcakes and turns pink all over, a condition (called "pinkititis") that can only be reversed by eating green foods. I can honestly say I've never been in one place with so many girls in so much pink. The show was actually pretty well done, and Rachel had a great time. Afterward we stood in line to meet the cast and get autographs, and when I mentioned that this was her second time one of the actors asked "Was it as much fun as last time?"
"Better!" Rachel said with a super-wide grin.
Then we popped down to Powell's for some book-reading, and then I sprang the second surprise of the day on her: I suggested that she and I have a pizza-and-movie night, and she could pick whatever kid movie she wanted. I think she could scarcely believe her luck -- she exclaimed "That's the best idea I ever heard in my whole life!" So we departed for the video store (one of the few remaining in Portland, alas), where after much deliberation she settled on the same "Barbie and the Magic Pegasus" movie that we all watched a few weeks ago (and about which Lisa has already blogged). After it was over, and while the end credits were rolling, she and I pretended to be the lead characters and reenacted the ice-dancing scene that closed the movie.
All in all, I couldn't have asked for a better day with my sweet girl.
The centerpiece of our day: I surprised Rachel with tickets to "Pinkalicious," a musical version of one of her favorite books. She'd seen it with her class when it came to town earlier this year, but it's back for a short return engagement. Rachel saw a flyer for it one day while we were out shopping, and I told her that "maybe" we could go see it while Mom was away.
So after we finished our Skype call with Lisa, Rachel asked what we were doing today, and I responded by telling her I had a surprise and pulling out the tickets. She asked what they were for, and I said, "Why don't you try reading it?" She got as far as "Pink..." when the light bulb popped on over her head. She shouted "Pinkalicious!" and danced around the living room in joy.
Before the show we took advantage of the rare non-rainy November day and hit the Portland Farmers Market, one of the last ones of the year. I picked up some ingredients for duck soup (one of Rachel's favorites, which I plan to make for next week's Shabbat dinner), and Rachel had an al fresco lunch (some fontina cheese, a very tasty "pretzel roll" from Delphina's bakery, a pear and part of a pumpkin-chocolate-chip cookie). As is often the case people kept giving Rachel things -- a little red change purse left behind at one stall, a fistful of colorful wool at another. I like to think they appreciate a polite, well-behaved child when they see one.
Then onto the show. For those of you without little girls in your lives, "Pinkalicious" is about the title character, a girl who loves all things pink. She eats too many pink cupcakes and turns pink all over, a condition (called "pinkititis") that can only be reversed by eating green foods. I can honestly say I've never been in one place with so many girls in so much pink. The show was actually pretty well done, and Rachel had a great time. Afterward we stood in line to meet the cast and get autographs, and when I mentioned that this was her second time one of the actors asked "Was it as much fun as last time?"
"Better!" Rachel said with a super-wide grin.
Then we popped down to Powell's for some book-reading, and then I sprang the second surprise of the day on her: I suggested that she and I have a pizza-and-movie night, and she could pick whatever kid movie she wanted. I think she could scarcely believe her luck -- she exclaimed "That's the best idea I ever heard in my whole life!" So we departed for the video store (one of the few remaining in Portland, alas), where after much deliberation she settled on the same "Barbie and the Magic Pegasus" movie that we all watched a few weeks ago (and about which Lisa has already blogged). After it was over, and while the end credits were rolling, she and I pretended to be the lead characters and reenacted the ice-dancing scene that closed the movie.
All in all, I couldn't have asked for a better day with my sweet girl.
Friday, November 23, 2012
Happy Thanksgiving!
Despite the fact that our beloved wife and mother was thousands of miles, an ocean and a hemisphere away, Rachel and I had a lovely Thanksgiving. We got to Skype with Grandma and Grandpa (who both are under the weather and so spent the day by themselves) Pop-Pop and Meemaw in North Carolina, and Lisa's sister, her husband and their daughter (i.e. Rachel's cousin) Valerie. Valerie is just 5 1/2 months younger than Rachel, and the two girls spent much of the call admiring each other's feet, shoes and stockings. Hey kids, whatever rings your bell...
In between Skypes Rachel and I made chocolate-chip cookies to bring over to our friends' house where we'd be spending Thanksgiving (Jim and Linda, whose daughter Devin is in the same preschool class as Rachel), and after we rang off with Valerie & Co. we headed over there. The two girls had a fabulous time -- playing dress-up, watching Barbie movies on a laptop, pummelling me -- and Rachel was a model guest, very polite to Jim and Linda when she needed or wanted something and keeping the shrieking down to a minimum. By the end of the evening the girls were begging us to let Rachel stay the night, and if we (Jim, Linda and I) had been at all prepared for a sleepover I'd have let her do it. I think she's mature enough to spend the night under a strange roof. (There was some weeping and fussing from both girls when we told them maybe some other night but not this one, but Rachel got over it pretty quickly once we left for home.)
Oh, and the cookies were a hit, too.
In between Skypes Rachel and I made chocolate-chip cookies to bring over to our friends' house where we'd be spending Thanksgiving (Jim and Linda, whose daughter Devin is in the same preschool class as Rachel), and after we rang off with Valerie & Co. we headed over there. The two girls had a fabulous time -- playing dress-up, watching Barbie movies on a laptop, pummelling me -- and Rachel was a model guest, very polite to Jim and Linda when she needed or wanted something and keeping the shrieking down to a minimum. By the end of the evening the girls were begging us to let Rachel stay the night, and if we (Jim, Linda and I) had been at all prepared for a sleepover I'd have let her do it. I think she's mature enough to spend the night under a strange roof. (There was some weeping and fussing from both girls when we told them maybe some other night but not this one, but Rachel got over it pretty quickly once we left for home.)
Oh, and the cookies were a hit, too.
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Good behaviors!
One of Rachel's preschool teachers has begun giving the kids "bean bands" -- brightly colored elastic wristbands, kind of like hair scrunchies -- for, as Rachel puts it, "good behaviors." When I picked her up tonight (last school day of this holiday-shortened week), she very proudly counted all the bean bands she was wearing on both arms -- 16, the total accumulated this week.
I asked her, naturally, exactly what "good behaviors" she had done to earn so many bean bands.
"There are 3 Bs," she patiently explained. "Be a good worker, be friendly, and don't be hurtful."
Ah, I said. Could you give me some examples?
"Well, today I sat quietly on my bed [actually a floor mat] during nap time, so I was being a good worker. Or sharing toys you're playing with at playtime."
I see. How about being friendly?
"Like, if you see somebody sitting by themselves and they don't have anybody to play with, you'd say 'Do you want to play with me?'"
Apparently Rachel doesn't have the latter problem -- she and three or four of the other girls in class have a pretty close group. When we got to school this morning, two of them ran up and shouted "Rachel, Rachel, come and play with us!"
"I need to take my coat and boots off," Rachel said, a bit crossly. (Later, when I suggested that she tell them she'd love to play but she needed time to take off her coat and boots, Rachel replied, "Well, what I really needed was some space.")
After she was divested of her foul-weather gear, though, she ran over to her friends and they all began free-form dancing in one of the play spaces. I stood there with Joe, the bean-band teacher, watching them for a few minutes, silently grateful that my daughter seems to have the inborn ability to make friends that comes rather hard for me.
"We have a really good group of girls this year," Joe said. And what better lead-in to the long Thanksgiving weekend? I have so much to be thankful for this year, but that my daughter is who she is is top of the list.
I asked her, naturally, exactly what "good behaviors" she had done to earn so many bean bands.
"There are 3 Bs," she patiently explained. "Be a good worker, be friendly, and don't be hurtful."
Ah, I said. Could you give me some examples?
"Well, today I sat quietly on my bed [actually a floor mat] during nap time, so I was being a good worker. Or sharing toys you're playing with at playtime."
I see. How about being friendly?
"Like, if you see somebody sitting by themselves and they don't have anybody to play with, you'd say 'Do you want to play with me?'"
Apparently Rachel doesn't have the latter problem -- she and three or four of the other girls in class have a pretty close group. When we got to school this morning, two of them ran up and shouted "Rachel, Rachel, come and play with us!"
"I need to take my coat and boots off," Rachel said, a bit crossly. (Later, when I suggested that she tell them she'd love to play but she needed time to take off her coat and boots, Rachel replied, "Well, what I really needed was some space.")
After she was divested of her foul-weather gear, though, she ran over to her friends and they all began free-form dancing in one of the play spaces. I stood there with Joe, the bean-band teacher, watching them for a few minutes, silently grateful that my daughter seems to have the inborn ability to make friends that comes rather hard for me.
"We have a really good group of girls this year," Joe said. And what better lead-in to the long Thanksgiving weekend? I have so much to be thankful for this year, but that my daughter is who she is is top of the list.
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
A sad lesson
Usually after I pick Rachel up from school we head home over the Hawthorne Bridge, one of the approximately 57 bridges that cross the Willamette River and connect Portland's east and west sides. For years -- long before Rachel was born -- a street performer would station himself at the onramp to the bridge. He was invariably dressed in an all-white tuxedo, and would play a badly out of tune trumpet, do little magic tricks, and generally try to entertain the cars waiting to get on the bridge. Rachel got to expect him, and would exclaim about "the Funny Man" when she did.
A couple of weeks ago, the street performer died -- by his own hand, as it turned out, though he also was suffering from a variety of physical ailments. A makeshift memorial of balloons, flowers, stuffed animals, &c. has sprouted at his erstwhile post, which Rachel noticed on our drive home tonight.
"Look Daddy, the Funny Man left his stuff!" she said.
I decided that she was mature enough to handle one of the grimmer realities of life.
"Well, sweetie, I have some sad news," I said. "The Funny Man died."
"He DIED?!?" she exclaimed. "What did he die on?" (I think she meant "of".)
I explained that he'd been very sick, and that a lot of people around the city missed him and left the items there as a way to show that.
"Well, I want to leave something too!" she said. "Maybe one of my stuffed animals, or a balloon."
A beat, then "I'm just heartbroken!"
I reached back and held her hand for a few minutes, then she asked me to resume telling her the story that had been interrupted by this little object lesson. I did, but not before telling her that I'd read in the newspaper that the thing that had made the Funny Man happiest was making kids smile.
"So when you smiled and waved at him, you were actually helping him and making him happy," I said. "That may seem like a little thing, but it's really one of the best things you can do."
A couple of weeks ago, the street performer died -- by his own hand, as it turned out, though he also was suffering from a variety of physical ailments. A makeshift memorial of balloons, flowers, stuffed animals, &c. has sprouted at his erstwhile post, which Rachel noticed on our drive home tonight.
"Look Daddy, the Funny Man left his stuff!" she said.
I decided that she was mature enough to handle one of the grimmer realities of life.
"Well, sweetie, I have some sad news," I said. "The Funny Man died."
"He DIED?!?" she exclaimed. "What did he die on?" (I think she meant "of".)
I explained that he'd been very sick, and that a lot of people around the city missed him and left the items there as a way to show that.
"Well, I want to leave something too!" she said. "Maybe one of my stuffed animals, or a balloon."
A beat, then "I'm just heartbroken!"
I reached back and held her hand for a few minutes, then she asked me to resume telling her the story that had been interrupted by this little object lesson. I did, but not before telling her that I'd read in the newspaper that the thing that had made the Funny Man happiest was making kids smile.
"So when you smiled and waved at him, you were actually helping him and making him happy," I said. "That may seem like a little thing, but it's really one of the best things you can do."
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Music Theory 101
Earlier this evening I was driving Rachel to a "pajama party" that a couple of the teachers from St. James do once a month. The kids get to come to school in their jammies and play with their friends, watch movies, eat popcorn, &c., while their parents get some time to themselves. Lisa and I often use these as date nights; I'd signed Rachel up for this one before we knew for certain when she'd be going to Africa, and I figured I shouldn't pass up the opportunity for a few hours of me time.
As we were driving to school, at Rachel's request I warbled my way through "Over the Rainbow," and then she asked if I wanted to hear some "Hello Kitty" music. I said "sure," and she began improvising a bouncy, cheerful song whose lyrics I couldn't reproduce on a bet, but it was an amalgam of "Over the Rainbow," "Yesterday" and some of her own words about friendship, rainbows and finding tomorrow today.
"That was an up-tune," she said when she was done, using Sweet Adelines lingo for their livelier songs. "Now would you like to hear a soothing ballad?"
Um, sure thing, kid. So she sang another song that lyrically was much the same as the first except slower and somewhat more melodious.
"Was that soothing?" she asked when she was done. It sure was, sweetheart.
(Clearly, all the music she's exposed to, mainly from Lisa singing to her or playing her CDs, is making an impact.)
As we were driving to school, at Rachel's request I warbled my way through "Over the Rainbow," and then she asked if I wanted to hear some "Hello Kitty" music. I said "sure," and she began improvising a bouncy, cheerful song whose lyrics I couldn't reproduce on a bet, but it was an amalgam of "Over the Rainbow," "Yesterday" and some of her own words about friendship, rainbows and finding tomorrow today.
"That was an up-tune," she said when she was done, using Sweet Adelines lingo for their livelier songs. "Now would you like to hear a soothing ballad?"
Um, sure thing, kid. So she sang another song that lyrically was much the same as the first except slower and somewhat more melodious.
"Was that soothing?" she asked when she was done. It sure was, sweetheart.
(Clearly, all the music she's exposed to, mainly from Lisa singing to her or playing her CDs, is making an impact.)
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Tales of a bachelor father
So, anyone who's reading this probably knows that Lisa (the regular author of this blog) is away in Africa, chasing a fantastic story for her magazine. Which leaves me, the neo-Luddite, in charge of updating everyone on the doings and sayings of Miss Rachel.
Or, as she apparently now is known, "Princess Daphne of the Smiles and Laughs." ("And giggles," she amended. "I'm in charge of all the kinds of laughs.")
Anyway, we were on our way back home from ballet class when I saw a sign for an estate sale. I have a weakness for this things, and have dragged Rachel along to probably more than most 4-year-olds have experienced. I told her we'd be making a stop.
"Why do you like estate sales, Daddy?"
"Because I like looking at old stuff. Maybe because I'm so old."
"Yeah, you're old. When your hair is all white, we're going to wrap you up in plastic and put you up in an old house. A haunted house!"
"A haunted house! That's no fair!"
"Yeah, when Mommy dies she's going to go to heaven and you're gonna go to a haunted house!"
This was simultaneously hilarious and more than a touch creepy.
Or, as she apparently now is known, "Princess Daphne of the Smiles and Laughs." ("And giggles," she amended. "I'm in charge of all the kinds of laughs.")
Anyway, we were on our way back home from ballet class when I saw a sign for an estate sale. I have a weakness for this things, and have dragged Rachel along to probably more than most 4-year-olds have experienced. I told her we'd be making a stop.
"Why do you like estate sales, Daddy?"
"Because I like looking at old stuff. Maybe because I'm so old."
"Yeah, you're old. When your hair is all white, we're going to wrap you up in plastic and put you up in an old house. A haunted house!"
"A haunted house! That's no fair!"
"Yeah, when Mommy dies she's going to go to heaven and you're gonna go to a haunted house!"
This was simultaneously hilarious and more than a touch creepy.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Incredibly self-aware kid
A sampling of dinner table topics tonight:
"Guess what I'm imagining, Mommy," Rachel asked. "When I'm 5 and Daddy and my teachers discussing what kindergarten I should go to. And remember, Mommy, I'm 5. Not 4, but 5. And it's the day before my birthday and I'm just about to turn 6."
***
We were talking about Santa Claus and Christianity after Rachel remarked out of the blue that "Santa has a small belly." When she expressed sorrow that we don't have a Christmas tree I reminded her that just because we're not Christian doesn't mean we don't have fun. "And just because we're not Christian doesn't mean that we don't get presents," she added, and that reassured me.
"When I grow up, I'm still going to be Jewish," she said. "Because I don't want to decorate the Christmas tree all by myself. But I'm still gonna rake leaves!"
Um, ok.
***
"Am I a greedy kid, Mom?" she asked unexpectedly.
"Do YOU think you're a greedy kid?" I asked. (Who says the Socratic method is limited to law schools?)
"No," she said.
"How would you describe a greedy kid?" I asked.
"I want, I want!" Rachel replied in a whiny voice. "More, more!"
"No, Rachel, you are NOT a greedy kid," I said. "Are any of your friends greedy?"
"No," she said. "NONE of them are greedy."
Then she started talking about a little friend of hers at preschool named Devin.
"When Devin doesn't get her way, she throws a fit," Rachel said. "She sits down, cries, and kicks her legs. And when people stop by and ask what's wrong, she doesn't say anything but she kicks the legs of people who are trying to help her. "
***
I was writing down what she said when all of a sudden Rachel asked me, "Why do you have that determined look on your face?"
I laughed out loud and said, "I'm concentrating!"
"Oh," she said.
"Guess what I'm imagining, Mommy," Rachel asked. "When I'm 5 and Daddy and my teachers discussing what kindergarten I should go to. And remember, Mommy, I'm 5. Not 4, but 5. And it's the day before my birthday and I'm just about to turn 6."
***
We were talking about Santa Claus and Christianity after Rachel remarked out of the blue that "Santa has a small belly." When she expressed sorrow that we don't have a Christmas tree I reminded her that just because we're not Christian doesn't mean we don't have fun. "And just because we're not Christian doesn't mean that we don't get presents," she added, and that reassured me.
"When I grow up, I'm still going to be Jewish," she said. "Because I don't want to decorate the Christmas tree all by myself. But I'm still gonna rake leaves!"
Um, ok.
***
"Am I a greedy kid, Mom?" she asked unexpectedly.
"Do YOU think you're a greedy kid?" I asked. (Who says the Socratic method is limited to law schools?)
"No," she said.
"How would you describe a greedy kid?" I asked.
"I want, I want!" Rachel replied in a whiny voice. "More, more!"
"No, Rachel, you are NOT a greedy kid," I said. "Are any of your friends greedy?"
"No," she said. "NONE of them are greedy."
Then she started talking about a little friend of hers at preschool named Devin.
"When Devin doesn't get her way, she throws a fit," Rachel said. "She sits down, cries, and kicks her legs. And when people stop by and ask what's wrong, she doesn't say anything but she kicks the legs of people who are trying to help her. "
***
I was writing down what she said when all of a sudden Rachel asked me, "Why do you have that determined look on your face?"
I laughed out loud and said, "I'm concentrating!"
"Oh," she said.
Monday, November 12, 2012
Milestone for Rachel!
Drew took the day off today because Rachel's preschool was closed. (I'm busy and stressed out with last-minute trip preparations, so I went to work).
Drew reports that they had a great day at the Children's Museum, meeting Rachel's friend Sadie and Sadie's dad, Joe.
While at the museum, Rachel did her own face painting, which was incredible enough, but later on SHE USED THE BATHROOM ALL BY HERSELF! even after Drew offered to take her into the men's room.
When I exclaimed over this at dinner, I told Rachel, "So the next time you have to go to the bathroom, you don't want me to come with you?"
"No," Rachel replied. "You'll just have to stay outside and take care of your own business!"
Drew and I cracked up. I admit I'm going to miss the comity we had in the bathroom, swapping holiday party ideas and observations about life while she sat on the toilet and I stood guard. But on the other hand, it's a great relief to know she can take care of herself in situations like that.
Drew reports that they had a great day at the Children's Museum, meeting Rachel's friend Sadie and Sadie's dad, Joe.
While at the museum, Rachel did her own face painting, which was incredible enough, but later on SHE USED THE BATHROOM ALL BY HERSELF! even after Drew offered to take her into the men's room.
When I exclaimed over this at dinner, I told Rachel, "So the next time you have to go to the bathroom, you don't want me to come with you?"
"No," Rachel replied. "You'll just have to stay outside and take care of your own business!"
Drew and I cracked up. I admit I'm going to miss the comity we had in the bathroom, swapping holiday party ideas and observations about life while she sat on the toilet and I stood guard. But on the other hand, it's a great relief to know she can take care of herself in situations like that.
Sunday, November 11, 2012
Unexpected words of wisdom from Rachel
..that came while we were all eating dinner at a seafood restaurant last night (first time we'd been out at a restaurant in months):
"I'm gonna tell you something really important, Mom and Dad," Rachel said, apropos of nothing. "Take what you need, but not from greed."
That was a quote from the "Barbie and the Magic Pegasus" movie we rented recently and that I blogged about. I was amazed Rachel remembered the words and the lesson!
"I'm gonna tell you something really important, Mom and Dad," Rachel said, apropos of nothing. "Take what you need, but not from greed."
That was a quote from the "Barbie and the Magic Pegasus" movie we rented recently and that I blogged about. I was amazed Rachel remembered the words and the lesson!
Sunday playdate
After a lovely Skype conversation with Grandma and Grandpa today, Rachel and I headed to Playdate PDX, a great indoor playplace, with her little friend Giada. Giada's mom, Sharon, and I were able to talk now and again, before Rachel insisted I go down the slides with her. The slides are pretty fast and fun, and I'm sure Rachel was surprised when insisted on going down "again! C'mon, let's go down AGAIN!"
We were all having a really nice time until Giada decided she wanted a "tag" on her shirt -- a tag meant that she was attending a party at Playdate PDX, and her mom tried to explain that she couldn't have one because she wasn't attending a party and it wasn't her birthday. Giada proceeded to throw a hissy fit, the likes of which made me uncomfortable and exasperated enough so that I wanted to say, "ENOUGH. If you keep doing this, we are OUT of here." Which her mom eventually did, but not as firmly as I would have done.
Rachel's eyes got very wide during this exchange and she said, "I would NEVER do that!" and "A 4 1/2 year old doesn't DO that!" (Giada will turn 5 in January). I had to tell her to lower her a voice a bit. I don't think Sharon heard; she was so preoccupied with getting Giada home. I offered to clear up the dishes, since they'd had lunch, and they left. Rachel, of course, couldn't wait to share with Drew what had happened. I think Giada was just having a bad day; Sharon said she'd been having temper tantrums all weekend after months of calm.
Drew got a haircut and ran some errands, then came to Playdate PDX to pick Rachel up while I went home and did some work. Before he came, she said to me, apropos of nothing:
"And always remember this, Mom. Be happy with what you have and don't be jealous of other people."
"Who told you that?" I said, astonished.
"Daddy," she replied.
We were all having a really nice time until Giada decided she wanted a "tag" on her shirt -- a tag meant that she was attending a party at Playdate PDX, and her mom tried to explain that she couldn't have one because she wasn't attending a party and it wasn't her birthday. Giada proceeded to throw a hissy fit, the likes of which made me uncomfortable and exasperated enough so that I wanted to say, "ENOUGH. If you keep doing this, we are OUT of here." Which her mom eventually did, but not as firmly as I would have done.
Rachel's eyes got very wide during this exchange and she said, "I would NEVER do that!" and "A 4 1/2 year old doesn't DO that!" (Giada will turn 5 in January). I had to tell her to lower her a voice a bit. I don't think Sharon heard; she was so preoccupied with getting Giada home. I offered to clear up the dishes, since they'd had lunch, and they left. Rachel, of course, couldn't wait to share with Drew what had happened. I think Giada was just having a bad day; Sharon said she'd been having temper tantrums all weekend after months of calm.
Drew got a haircut and ran some errands, then came to Playdate PDX to pick Rachel up while I went home and did some work. Before he came, she said to me, apropos of nothing:
"And always remember this, Mom. Be happy with what you have and don't be jealous of other people."
"Who told you that?" I said, astonished.
"Daddy," she replied.
Rachel's thoughts on Mommy going to Africa
The other day Rachel told Drew that "I'm worried Mommy won't be back in time for Hanukkah to sing her special song."
I reassured her later that I would, in fact, be back in time to make latkes, sufganyiot, the whole deal. That made her happy.
***
"Swaziland, Swalizand, Swaziland!" Rachel sang the other day. She is enchanted at the idea of me going there because I mentioned the country -- which is Africa's last absolute monarchy -- has a king and queen. When Rachel wondered whether there were princes and princesses, too, I said probably. She thinks I'll get to meet them all.
"I'm not important enough to meet the king of Swaziland," I told her.
"C'mon, you're a magazine editor!" Rachel said. "That's important!"
If you say so, sweetie.
I reassured her later that I would, in fact, be back in time to make latkes, sufganyiot, the whole deal. That made her happy.
***
"Swaziland, Swalizand, Swaziland!" Rachel sang the other day. She is enchanted at the idea of me going there because I mentioned the country -- which is Africa's last absolute monarchy -- has a king and queen. When Rachel wondered whether there were princes and princesses, too, I said probably. She thinks I'll get to meet them all.
"I'm not important enough to meet the king of Swaziland," I told her.
"C'mon, you're a magazine editor!" Rachel said. "That's important!"
If you say so, sweetie.
Rachel takes over Shabbat
A former colleague of mine wrote a book about Bruce Springsteen, the first one in 25 years with Bruce's cooperation. It has gotten a lot of buzz. I'm friends with the colleague's wife, Sarah, who has made a point of inviting me to her husband Peter's publicity parties, one of which I can't go to because I'll be overseas. So...on Friday I decided to attend his book reading at Powell's. I figure I could make an appearance and then leave quickly to have Shabbat dinner with Drew and Rachel.
I got home just as they were finishing up, but by eating fast I was able to have dessert with all of them. Drew said that Rachel had picked out the candles and put them in the candle holders, and SHE SAID THE BLESSING ALL BY HERSELF. And, best of all, she added her own blessing! It went like this:
"Bless Mommy, bless Daddy, bless Grandma and Grandpa, bless PopPop, bless Uncle David, bless Auntie Anne and bless Grandma Jean."
I got home just as they were finishing up, but by eating fast I was able to have dessert with all of them. Drew said that Rachel had picked out the candles and put them in the candle holders, and SHE SAID THE BLESSING ALL BY HERSELF. And, best of all, she added her own blessing! It went like this:
"Bless Mommy, bless Daddy, bless Grandma and Grandpa, bless PopPop, bless Uncle David, bless Auntie Anne and bless Grandma Jean."
Rachel's dreams
The other day Rachel came into my room and announced she'd had a good dream. "It lasted right until I woke up!" she said.
"What was the dream?" I asked.
"When I went into school, there was a big surprise for me," she said. "We went sailing on a toy ship with toy sails. And PopPop gave me two nutcrackers. I gave one to Sadie and she cried of happiness."
That sounds like one delightful dream!
"What was the dream?" I asked.
"When I went into school, there was a big surprise for me," she said. "We went sailing on a toy ship with toy sails. And PopPop gave me two nutcrackers. I gave one to Sadie and she cried of happiness."
That sounds like one delightful dream!
what a week....
...filled with the tension of the election, booking tickets for Swaziland and South Africa(!!), running around on last-minute trip preparation craziness, etc. Figure I'd catch everyone up on what's been happening.
(While I'm gone I will urge Drew to keep y'all updated via this blog, but I make no promises. I expect to be mostly incommunicado while I'm gone. I'll be leaving this Thursday, Nov. 15 and back on Wednesday, Dec. 5th. One nice thing coming and going: I've timed it so that Drew and Rachel can drop me off AND pick me up at the airport. Oooh I can't wait to see her sweet little face when I return!!)
So, on Tuesday, I was a Bad Mommy because I was dying to sit in front of the TV all night and watch the returns, but of course I couldn't because I was on Rachel Duty. So, what did I do? We went to Powell's (grudgingly, on my part), came home and I was listening to NPR the whole way home (and repeatedly shushing my poor daughter, who gave up trying to say anything after a while).
Then at home I turned on the radio as loud as I could and listened to returns after throwing some pizza into the oven and then shoving it in front of Rachel. The moment NPR called the election for Obama, I threw my hands up in the air and said, "YESSSS!!! I told Rachel, "Obama WON!!!" and then SHE put her hands in the air and cheered. At that moment Drew called and we were on the phone for about a half-hour while Rachel gave me the thumbs-up sign. And, um, I almost totally ignored her.
Romney conceded at around 10 p.m. our time, and so I rushed Rachel's bedtime preparations. I refused to cuddle in bed with her, instead giving a hasty kiss and leaving so I could catch every line of Mitt's goodbye. Then I listened to Obama's victory speech. And then had work to do, so I was still typing when Drew returned at 1:30 a.m. We stayed up until 2 a.m. talking, and then I finally pleaded for sleep.
I was a wreck the next day, but luckily got sleep Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday. By tomorrow (Monday) I should be nearly back to normal.
A note about Obama: One of my indelible memories is sitting Rachel on my legs on the couch in the living room and listening to Obama accept the nomination. I was with my friend Paige, who has a son about a year older than Rachel, and we turned to each other in astonishment at his oratory. "That's not a politician; that's a preacher," I said in awe.
Rachel was so little when Obama made history -- only four months -- but I will always trace her birth to that election. And that every time she ages four years, there will be an election. Kind of a neat way to keep time.
(While I'm gone I will urge Drew to keep y'all updated via this blog, but I make no promises. I expect to be mostly incommunicado while I'm gone. I'll be leaving this Thursday, Nov. 15 and back on Wednesday, Dec. 5th. One nice thing coming and going: I've timed it so that Drew and Rachel can drop me off AND pick me up at the airport. Oooh I can't wait to see her sweet little face when I return!!)
So, on Tuesday, I was a Bad Mommy because I was dying to sit in front of the TV all night and watch the returns, but of course I couldn't because I was on Rachel Duty. So, what did I do? We went to Powell's (grudgingly, on my part), came home and I was listening to NPR the whole way home (and repeatedly shushing my poor daughter, who gave up trying to say anything after a while).
Then at home I turned on the radio as loud as I could and listened to returns after throwing some pizza into the oven and then shoving it in front of Rachel. The moment NPR called the election for Obama, I threw my hands up in the air and said, "YESSSS!!! I told Rachel, "Obama WON!!!" and then SHE put her hands in the air and cheered. At that moment Drew called and we were on the phone for about a half-hour while Rachel gave me the thumbs-up sign. And, um, I almost totally ignored her.
Romney conceded at around 10 p.m. our time, and so I rushed Rachel's bedtime preparations. I refused to cuddle in bed with her, instead giving a hasty kiss and leaving so I could catch every line of Mitt's goodbye. Then I listened to Obama's victory speech. And then had work to do, so I was still typing when Drew returned at 1:30 a.m. We stayed up until 2 a.m. talking, and then I finally pleaded for sleep.
I was a wreck the next day, but luckily got sleep Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday. By tomorrow (Monday) I should be nearly back to normal.
A note about Obama: One of my indelible memories is sitting Rachel on my legs on the couch in the living room and listening to Obama accept the nomination. I was with my friend Paige, who has a son about a year older than Rachel, and we turned to each other in astonishment at his oratory. "That's not a politician; that's a preacher," I said in awe.
Rachel was so little when Obama made history -- only four months -- but I will always trace her birth to that election. And that every time she ages four years, there will be an election. Kind of a neat way to keep time.
Monday, November 5, 2012
More evidence of Rachel's phenomenal memory
Drew apparently told Rachel that he used to have a guinea pig -- the late, lamented, super-cool Sid (named after punk rocker Sid Vicious, of course).
"One time when Daddy was living in Chicago, he had a guinea pig named Sid," Rachel said over dinner tonight. "And one time he decided to bring Sid over to Suzanne's house to show him to the family and to see how Nutmeg and Sid would act together. And he set Sid in the middle of the living room but he took a little time to figure out where everything was. Then he let Nutmeg into the room and you could almost see the thought in her face: 'Ooh, that's a pounce toy!'" And she started preying around Sid like a tiger and then we scooped up Sid before Nutmeg could pounce on Sid. And then Daddy decided not to bring Sid to Suzanne's house anymore."
I have no doubt this story is true, and I'm astonished that Rachel remembered so much of it!
"One time when Daddy was living in Chicago, he had a guinea pig named Sid," Rachel said over dinner tonight. "And one time he decided to bring Sid over to Suzanne's house to show him to the family and to see how Nutmeg and Sid would act together. And he set Sid in the middle of the living room but he took a little time to figure out where everything was. Then he let Nutmeg into the room and you could almost see the thought in her face: 'Ooh, that's a pounce toy!'" And she started preying around Sid like a tiger and then we scooped up Sid before Nutmeg could pounce on Sid. And then Daddy decided not to bring Sid to Suzanne's house anymore."
I have no doubt this story is true, and I'm astonished that Rachel remembered so much of it!
A conversation between Mommy and Rachel
Tonight after preschool Rachel asked to go to Powell's and read books, and I obliged. As I was leaning over her and getting ready to unbuckle her from the car seat, I said, "Do you know how much I love you?"
"How much?" Rachel asked.
"To the end of the universe," I answered.
"I love you to the universe and up to the moon and back," she said.
"Thank you for being my daughter!" I said, touched.
"You're welcome," Rachel said. "Friendship is forever."
Man, this kid knows how to make my day.
***
I was discussing the end of Daylight Savings Time over dinner tonight and how it's going to be dark for a long, long time.
"Wait until the summer solstice, Mommy," Rachel said. "Let me tell you about the summer solstice. The summer solstice is when it stays late until, like, nine o'clock."
True, that.
***
"Giada was wearing a black and pink checked shirt," Rachel said, talking about one of her little preschool friends. "It was very dramatic."
"How much?" Rachel asked.
"To the end of the universe," I answered.
"I love you to the universe and up to the moon and back," she said.
"Thank you for being my daughter!" I said, touched.
"You're welcome," Rachel said. "Friendship is forever."
Man, this kid knows how to make my day.
***
I was discussing the end of Daylight Savings Time over dinner tonight and how it's going to be dark for a long, long time.
"Wait until the summer solstice, Mommy," Rachel said. "Let me tell you about the summer solstice. The summer solstice is when it stays late until, like, nine o'clock."
True, that.
***
"Giada was wearing a black and pink checked shirt," Rachel said, talking about one of her little preschool friends. "It was very dramatic."
Denver
Drew, Rachel and I were in Denver last week for the 66th annual Sweet Adelines International convention. My chorus, Pride of Portland, competed against 34 choruses. We spent several days in what seemed like nonstop rehearsals and then sang in the semifinals on Thursday and the finals on Saturday. The trip was especially sweet because PopPop made it out to see us. From what I've been told, he, Drew and Rachel had a fantastic time while I was rehearsing, sleeping off my exhaustion or attending the quartet/chorus portions of the contest.
Rachel was so excited to see PopPop that when she and Drew got off the plane (PopPop met them on Thursday, right after I finished singing in the semifinals; I had to go back to my hotel room and sleep because I was so drained), she literally jumped into PopPop's arms. We all congregated in the hotel room and talked for a while with our room-sharer, Julie, a friend from chorus. Mom and Dad called and we were relieved to hear they were OK (if without power after Hurricane Sandy). Then PopPop, Drew, Rachel and I went to dinner and, as we were coming back, we heard that Pride of Portland had made the finals! Yippee!!
So Drew, Rachel and PopPop had a ball the next two days, going to the Denver Aquarium (where Rachel got to see not one but TWO mermaid shows), and the Denver Children's Museum while Mommy was rehearsing and competing. At night we'd reunite for a bit before crashing into bed at 11 (late for Rachel, quite early for Drew and me). We all got good amounts of sleep but I still ended up feeling tired, probably because of the adrenaline, the stress and the geography, while resulted in my throat being terribly dry the whole time and me losing my voice halfway through the semifinal ballad.
We're hoping that PopPop can see Pride of Portland in Baltimore two years from now, and that Drew and Rachel can come, too. I love that Rachel is growing up around music and that she sees how much being part of SAI means to me. She met Touche, the winning quartet, one of whose members lives in our region, and one of the quartet members got a picture of Rachel between them when the women were wearing their crowns at breakfast (Rachel did a perfect curtsy in front of them, and the bass in the quartet said it was a perfect way to start her morning).
On Sunday morning as we were getting ready to leave, Rachel presented me with a paper crown she'd made at the Denver Children's Museum. "Mommy, you're a QUEEN!" she said. "A queen of HARMONY!"
This is why it didn't matter that we came in 8th instead of 5th or 6th or 7th as I'd hoped. And, hey, the chorus has been asked to audition for "America's Got Talent." So, really, it was very productive week.
Rachel was so excited to see PopPop that when she and Drew got off the plane (PopPop met them on Thursday, right after I finished singing in the semifinals; I had to go back to my hotel room and sleep because I was so drained), she literally jumped into PopPop's arms. We all congregated in the hotel room and talked for a while with our room-sharer, Julie, a friend from chorus. Mom and Dad called and we were relieved to hear they were OK (if without power after Hurricane Sandy). Then PopPop, Drew, Rachel and I went to dinner and, as we were coming back, we heard that Pride of Portland had made the finals! Yippee!!
So Drew, Rachel and PopPop had a ball the next two days, going to the Denver Aquarium (where Rachel got to see not one but TWO mermaid shows), and the Denver Children's Museum while Mommy was rehearsing and competing. At night we'd reunite for a bit before crashing into bed at 11 (late for Rachel, quite early for Drew and me). We all got good amounts of sleep but I still ended up feeling tired, probably because of the adrenaline, the stress and the geography, while resulted in my throat being terribly dry the whole time and me losing my voice halfway through the semifinal ballad.
We're hoping that PopPop can see Pride of Portland in Baltimore two years from now, and that Drew and Rachel can come, too. I love that Rachel is growing up around music and that she sees how much being part of SAI means to me. She met Touche, the winning quartet, one of whose members lives in our region, and one of the quartet members got a picture of Rachel between them when the women were wearing their crowns at breakfast (Rachel did a perfect curtsy in front of them, and the bass in the quartet said it was a perfect way to start her morning).
On Sunday morning as we were getting ready to leave, Rachel presented me with a paper crown she'd made at the Denver Children's Museum. "Mommy, you're a QUEEN!" she said. "A queen of HARMONY!"
This is why it didn't matter that we came in 8th instead of 5th or 6th or 7th as I'd hoped. And, hey, the chorus has been asked to audition for "America's Got Talent." So, really, it was very productive week.
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