"Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Susie," Rachel said tonight on the way home from a dinner party at our friend Deni's. "And Susie was very extremely smart. And she knew pretty much everything but she was not very strong. One day, Susie discovered a pool right by her house and she peered into the pool and saw a reflection of a monster. And the monster said, "What are you doing, you?" And she said, "I just discovered this." And the monster said, "Can you please take me out?" And Susie ran and put on her bathing suit and dived into the pool and lifted out the monster who was so cuute. But he ate so much disgusting things. He ate worms and beetles, and Susie, who was a particular smart girl, took him to a restaurant and looked at a menu to tell him all the human food. He ordered a huge dinner. He ordered a FEAST. He ordered chicken and salmon along with fruit tarts and burritos and berries. And what else was some vegetables. He ordered some coffee and he ordered all this FOOD! He ordered the beef lamb chops, 121, and he ordered them just right cooked. And he also ordered all his lettuce and carrots in a huge stew with all the veggies in it.
"And they went back and lived happily ever after with the monster. The end."
***
This story came after a lovely evening at Deni and her husband Coop's house. I used to sing in a barbershop chorus with Deni, and she and Coop just returned from a trip to Bangladesh to teach school there for a few months. They served Bangladeshi-style food and outfitted themselves in the Bangladesh saris and other outfits they brought back, and showed a slide show of their trip (we had to leave early because it was getting late). Right before dinner was served, Rachel talked up a storm to a friend of Deni's who teaches third graders in the Wilsonville School District, one of the best in the Portland metro area. They had quite a conversation, with Rachel chattering on about her school, her friends, stuff she does at school, etc.
Later the teacher, whose name I didn't quite catch, said to me: "Your daughter is around the level of my third-graders. It's really amazing. She peers into things. Most four-year-olds don't do that."
I thanked her profusely.
***
Rachel told me an even more amazing story than the one above on our way home, and I was driving so I couldn't write it down, but I told her the story was unbelievable and asked if she had truly made it up.
"The books I get at the library aren't good enough to tell stories like that," she said.
"Rachel," I said as we pulled into the garage, "you are just..."
"...an unbelievable storyteller?" she said helpfully.
Well, yes.
Friday, May 31, 2013
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Sickness in my house
Rachel hasn't been eating dinner the past two nights, and I've been scolding her for delaying, and not eating her carrots, taking tiny sips of soup, etc. One night I got really mad at her and sent her straight to bed after a very quick, unpleasant bath.
Early this morning I realized the cause. She started yelling and it turned out she had run to the bathroom and thrown up all over the toilet, the floor, the bath mat, etc. It was a real mess, and I calmed her down gently. About 15 minutes later she got up and threw up again. I suggested she try to eat some applesauce, so at 1:30 a.m. we were both sitting at the kitchen table, me watching her eat. I put her down to bed and she was fine.
This morning I had her eat applesauce again, and she promptly threw up after one bite. That's it, I decided -- I wasn't going to go into work, even though it was my boss's last day and I had wanted to say goodbye to him. At least I got to call him, explained the situation, and he totally understood -- he has three kids, one still at home, so he could relate.
I tried to set Rachel up with a movie upstairs, but couldn't get the TV to work so called a repair company to come over. Meanwhile, she crashed out on the couch, and for two hours I organized baby clothes to save/give away/sell/donate to Goodwill. Around 10 a.m. Rachel woke up, and I gave her some Saltines and apple juice, which she managed to keep down.
The service people came at 1:20 p.m. to fix the TV, but an hour or two after they left Rachel pushed a button on the DVD remote that screwed up everything, and the service folks had to come back and undo the damage. Meanwhile, I had yelled at and scolded poor Rachel, who retreated to her room and sobbed her heart out. Before the service folks arrived again, I took her into my lap and cuddled with her for quite a while. She was scared the teachers would throw her out of preschool for breaking the TV, and I assured her that wouldn't happen. She also said some other things that are too disturbing to repeat here. And then I started crying and apologized for being so harsh.
She decided she wanted to watch some old "Muppet Show" VHS tapes (thank you, Aunties Amanda and Jenn!) and I couldn't help watching some of them with her. All I can say is: a) the shows really hold up; they're terrifically sophisticated and b) Paul Simon looked young once. And, man, he had HAIR!
Then we dashed out to get matzohs, bananas and Pedialyte -- all things that Rachel needed to feel better. Just as we were about to go into the grocery store I apologized yet again for yelling at her. "It's OK Mommy, all moms yell at their kids," she said. "You don't have to be perfect." I nearly burst into tears right there. I am such a deeply flawed human being, and yet she loves me unreservedly anyway. I don't know what I did to deserve her, but I am grateful every day for her presence.
When she got home she said her tummy hurt, and she lay on the couch and fell asleep. That's where I picked her up at 8:30 and carried her into her room. "Thank you, Mommy," she said sleepily, and I got her out of her clothes and into her nightie as quickly as I could. She felt warm so I put a cold washcloth on her head, told her I'd be as quiet as possible, and shut the door.
***
Even though she was sick, Rachel kept trying to help me around the house. She insisted on carrying the heavy laundry basket downstairs (I was racing around trying to pack as many chores into the day as I could, to take advantage of the unexpected down time). I kept telling her that she was sick, and not to do any work, and that I was worried about her.
"Mommy, you can't just worry about ME!" she exclaimed. "You have to worry about YOURSELF!"
Early this morning I realized the cause. She started yelling and it turned out she had run to the bathroom and thrown up all over the toilet, the floor, the bath mat, etc. It was a real mess, and I calmed her down gently. About 15 minutes later she got up and threw up again. I suggested she try to eat some applesauce, so at 1:30 a.m. we were both sitting at the kitchen table, me watching her eat. I put her down to bed and she was fine.
This morning I had her eat applesauce again, and she promptly threw up after one bite. That's it, I decided -- I wasn't going to go into work, even though it was my boss's last day and I had wanted to say goodbye to him. At least I got to call him, explained the situation, and he totally understood -- he has three kids, one still at home, so he could relate.
I tried to set Rachel up with a movie upstairs, but couldn't get the TV to work so called a repair company to come over. Meanwhile, she crashed out on the couch, and for two hours I organized baby clothes to save/give away/sell/donate to Goodwill. Around 10 a.m. Rachel woke up, and I gave her some Saltines and apple juice, which she managed to keep down.
The service people came at 1:20 p.m. to fix the TV, but an hour or two after they left Rachel pushed a button on the DVD remote that screwed up everything, and the service folks had to come back and undo the damage. Meanwhile, I had yelled at and scolded poor Rachel, who retreated to her room and sobbed her heart out. Before the service folks arrived again, I took her into my lap and cuddled with her for quite a while. She was scared the teachers would throw her out of preschool for breaking the TV, and I assured her that wouldn't happen. She also said some other things that are too disturbing to repeat here. And then I started crying and apologized for being so harsh.
She decided she wanted to watch some old "Muppet Show" VHS tapes (thank you, Aunties Amanda and Jenn!) and I couldn't help watching some of them with her. All I can say is: a) the shows really hold up; they're terrifically sophisticated and b) Paul Simon looked young once. And, man, he had HAIR!
Then we dashed out to get matzohs, bananas and Pedialyte -- all things that Rachel needed to feel better. Just as we were about to go into the grocery store I apologized yet again for yelling at her. "It's OK Mommy, all moms yell at their kids," she said. "You don't have to be perfect." I nearly burst into tears right there. I am such a deeply flawed human being, and yet she loves me unreservedly anyway. I don't know what I did to deserve her, but I am grateful every day for her presence.
When she got home she said her tummy hurt, and she lay on the couch and fell asleep. That's where I picked her up at 8:30 and carried her into her room. "Thank you, Mommy," she said sleepily, and I got her out of her clothes and into her nightie as quickly as I could. She felt warm so I put a cold washcloth on her head, told her I'd be as quiet as possible, and shut the door.
***
Even though she was sick, Rachel kept trying to help me around the house. She insisted on carrying the heavy laundry basket downstairs (I was racing around trying to pack as many chores into the day as I could, to take advantage of the unexpected down time). I kept telling her that she was sick, and not to do any work, and that I was worried about her.
"Mommy, you can't just worry about ME!" she exclaimed. "You have to worry about YOURSELF!"
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Preschool drama
Rachel regularly tells me that her little friend Devin "breaks up" with her (and I am so glad she doesn't yet know what that really means). A sample from tonight's dinner conversation:
"How'd your day go?" I asked.
"Terrible," she answered matter-of-factly.
"Why??" I asked.
"Devin broke up with me this much," she said, holding up three fingers.
When I asked her to explain, she said, "She ignored me at painting, she ignored me at stories, and she ignored me in the Big Room" (where everyone has free play).
"It was not fair to me at all," she continued. "Devin said, 'I'm not going to let you come to my house and play with my dress-up.' And Sadie said, 'me too.' So, I went in the Big Room and played with Amanda and Tessa."
And then she outlined a game they played that made no sense to me, but she kept cracking herself up describing it. Hopefully she is learning to go to other groups of kids if one group snubs her, which is a very valuable lesson.
"How'd your day go?" I asked.
"Terrible," she answered matter-of-factly.
"Why??" I asked.
"Devin broke up with me this much," she said, holding up three fingers.
When I asked her to explain, she said, "She ignored me at painting, she ignored me at stories, and she ignored me in the Big Room" (where everyone has free play).
"It was not fair to me at all," she continued. "Devin said, 'I'm not going to let you come to my house and play with my dress-up.' And Sadie said, 'me too.' So, I went in the Big Room and played with Amanda and Tessa."
And then she outlined a game they played that made no sense to me, but she kept cracking herself up describing it. Hopefully she is learning to go to other groups of kids if one group snubs her, which is a very valuable lesson.
Mommy the Superhero??
Rachel's dance recital was last Saturday (oops, forgot to mention in my previous post, which is why we didn't get up to Seattle until late). The theme was "Spring Garden," and it was ADORABLE, with all the little kids playing animals in various set pieces. The littlest ones were ants, then came bumblebees, ladybugs and chipmunks, at the end came fairies, etc. Rachel's group was bunnies, and when they came hopping out in white leotards and white bunny ears, they were BEYOND ADORABLE. There was a part where they turned their backs to the audience and wiggled their butts, and I have to say with mixed feelings that Rachel was the best at it. Then came the part where they all lay face down in a line and each bunny had to hop over the group of bunnies. Rachel went first and around me I could hear gasps of pleasure from the audience.
At the end I raced up to the stage while they were taking formal pictures and said, "Rachel! I'm so PROUD of you!" and handed her a bouquet of flowers I'd bought. It was truly a Mom Moment, one of many I'm blessed to be able to look forward to.
As we were leaving the performance, Rachel spied a package of princess trinkets -- a collection of a tiara, wand, earrings, rings and shoes. She begged me to buy them and got teary-eyed when I said no. She made the point that she has no shoes for dress-up, and when I told her she has some white shoes with flowers and sequins, she very sensibly pointed out that they're shoes for outside, and if she wears them inside for dress-up she'll bring in ants. I told her that was a fair point, and that if the stuff wasn't too expensive I'd buy it for her. Back in the theater I went, and the package was only $5 so I bought it, and I explained to Rachel that she got it because she had made a good argument AND the stuff was inexpensive -- not because she cried because I'd said no.
The stuff really was cheap; the earrings broke, one of the "gems" in the tiara fell out before it even left the package, and last night one of the gems on the dress-up shoes fell off and Rachel was heartbroken. It happened while we were eating dinner, and she cried and cried, and I promised to buy her a new pair if I couldn't fix them. Then I suggested she hand them over to me, and the gem snapped back into place as soon as I fiddled with it.
"Mommy!" Rachel exclaimed. "You are a superhero. You. You. Mommy. You. Lisa. Mommy. Not me. YOU." Oh, if I could only make all her problems go away like that....
At the end I raced up to the stage while they were taking formal pictures and said, "Rachel! I'm so PROUD of you!" and handed her a bouquet of flowers I'd bought. It was truly a Mom Moment, one of many I'm blessed to be able to look forward to.
As we were leaving the performance, Rachel spied a package of princess trinkets -- a collection of a tiara, wand, earrings, rings and shoes. She begged me to buy them and got teary-eyed when I said no. She made the point that she has no shoes for dress-up, and when I told her she has some white shoes with flowers and sequins, she very sensibly pointed out that they're shoes for outside, and if she wears them inside for dress-up she'll bring in ants. I told her that was a fair point, and that if the stuff wasn't too expensive I'd buy it for her. Back in the theater I went, and the package was only $5 so I bought it, and I explained to Rachel that she got it because she had made a good argument AND the stuff was inexpensive -- not because she cried because I'd said no.
The stuff really was cheap; the earrings broke, one of the "gems" in the tiara fell out before it even left the package, and last night one of the gems on the dress-up shoes fell off and Rachel was heartbroken. It happened while we were eating dinner, and she cried and cried, and I promised to buy her a new pair if I couldn't fix them. Then I suggested she hand them over to me, and the gem snapped back into place as soon as I fiddled with it.
"Mommy!" Rachel exclaimed. "You are a superhero. You. You. Mommy. You. Lisa. Mommy. Not me. YOU." Oh, if I could only make all her problems go away like that....
Seattle Weekend, Part 1
We went up last weekend to Seattle for a visit with Aunties Amanda and Jenn, who graciously treated us to a performance of "Aladdin Jr.," by a Seattle children's theater company. We all had a great time, even if it did take 4 1/2 hours to get there because of traffic. Had dinner Friday night at a great restaurant on a lake, where I had a huckleberry kamikaze that I wish I could have ordered two more of. Rachel busied herself learning how to take photos on Amanda's smartphone, and Amanda was very impressed at Rachel's photo of me; it was centered and not blurry at all! Maybe she has Amanda's art gene??
On Sunday morning we had yummy pancakes at the Pancake Haus in Edmonds and I was reminded what a beautiful town it is, situated on the water...Rachel was very well-behaved and not too restless at breakfast, although she kept grabbing my arm and hugging me and asking to get up and whisper in Amanda's ear the following: "Pss pss pss," as if she had a secret. I had to keep telling her no because I didn't want to move out of my seat; we were in a booth.
Then we drove to a park near the school where "Aladdin, Jr." was being performed and Rachel played on the play structure until the play started. When we came out it was sunny and warm, and we had a nice drive back home and then dinner at the food carts, with dessert at Ben & Jerry's, and then home to quickly unpack and get to bed (too late, alas). Altogether a lovely weekend, and we will repeat this weekend when we drive up to see Anne, David and Grandma Jean. Unfortunately it doesn't look as if the weather will cooperate, but I'm crossing my fingers anyway!
On Sunday morning we had yummy pancakes at the Pancake Haus in Edmonds and I was reminded what a beautiful town it is, situated on the water...Rachel was very well-behaved and not too restless at breakfast, although she kept grabbing my arm and hugging me and asking to get up and whisper in Amanda's ear the following: "Pss pss pss," as if she had a secret. I had to keep telling her no because I didn't want to move out of my seat; we were in a booth.
Then we drove to a park near the school where "Aladdin, Jr." was being performed and Rachel played on the play structure until the play started. When we came out it was sunny and warm, and we had a nice drive back home and then dinner at the food carts, with dessert at Ben & Jerry's, and then home to quickly unpack and get to bed (too late, alas). Altogether a lovely weekend, and we will repeat this weekend when we drive up to see Anne, David and Grandma Jean. Unfortunately it doesn't look as if the weather will cooperate, but I'm crossing my fingers anyway!
Thursday, May 16, 2013
Names
I told Rachel tonight that I don't like my name much. Sorry Mom and Dad, I know that you named me "Lisa" for the loveliest of reasons, it just has never seemed as interesting and exotic as "Daniella." Or "Oliver." Or, for that matter, "Sylvie."
"PLEASE like your name!" Rachel said, obviously distressed. "You're tormenting your mouth! Please don't ever say you don't like your name. If you do, I won't give you any more art for the rest of your life. If you don't like your name, Grandma will be really really angry and I won't like that. You're my mommy. Don't say that to Grandma, ok? Or Grandma will be furious."
I could only reply meekly that of course I will try to like my name better.
"What does 'tormenting your mouth' mean?" I asked Rachel.
"It's an expression," she replied. "It means, 'watch your mouth.'"
Sometimes I forget who's the mom around here and who's the kid.
***
Rachel dug out her toy flip phone tonight and immediately "called" her pretend friend (she reassured me he is, indeed, pretend) "Jordan." "We're gonna meet right after my performance and go to the movie," she announced. "The movie is called 'Star Trek.' I don't know anything about it. Depending, it's about outer space. I think. But I'm not sure."
She continued: "And he's my high school roommate."
"Where do you guys live?" I said. "High schoolers don't have roommates." (Well, they do, in prep school, but I wanted to see where the conversation went).
"We have little apartments," she said. "They put the friends in the little apartments. I'm the biggest in high school, so I get three roommates. There are three bedrooms, one for me, one for Jordan and one for Kelly."
She concluded: "I'm pretending my name is Lily. Lily Sophia Rose." She changed Kelly's name to "Ruby Drury DeSilver." And Jordan became "Jordan Mark Eishem."
I swear I am not making this up.
"PLEASE like your name!" Rachel said, obviously distressed. "You're tormenting your mouth! Please don't ever say you don't like your name. If you do, I won't give you any more art for the rest of your life. If you don't like your name, Grandma will be really really angry and I won't like that. You're my mommy. Don't say that to Grandma, ok? Or Grandma will be furious."
I could only reply meekly that of course I will try to like my name better.
"What does 'tormenting your mouth' mean?" I asked Rachel.
"It's an expression," she replied. "It means, 'watch your mouth.'"
Sometimes I forget who's the mom around here and who's the kid.
***
Rachel dug out her toy flip phone tonight and immediately "called" her pretend friend (she reassured me he is, indeed, pretend) "Jordan." "We're gonna meet right after my performance and go to the movie," she announced. "The movie is called 'Star Trek.' I don't know anything about it. Depending, it's about outer space. I think. But I'm not sure."
She continued: "And he's my high school roommate."
"Where do you guys live?" I said. "High schoolers don't have roommates." (Well, they do, in prep school, but I wanted to see where the conversation went).
"We have little apartments," she said. "They put the friends in the little apartments. I'm the biggest in high school, so I get three roommates. There are three bedrooms, one for me, one for Jordan and one for Kelly."
She concluded: "I'm pretending my name is Lily. Lily Sophia Rose." She changed Kelly's name to "Ruby Drury DeSilver." And Jordan became "Jordan Mark Eishem."
I swear I am not making this up.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
The kid says the darndest things...
"You know why all my friends like me?" Rachel asked tonight over dinner. "'Cause I'm always active and I only cry when I have a owie."
I've told her many, many times that if I were her age I would LOVE to have her for a friend.
Rachel also talks about the tempestuous relationship she has with her little friend Devin. One minute they're best friends, the next minute Devin taunts her and says mean things, then they're friends again. Today was more of the same: St. James got new dress-up clothes (Disney princess dresses, apparently) and Devin and Rachel wanted the same one at the same time, so Devin yanked it out of Rachel's hand...and then she hit her!
"What did the teacher do?" I asked.
"A timeout," Rachel answered. Then: "Can you believe my best friend hitted me?"
No, sweetie. In a few years it will all be about teasing each other into eating disorders.
***
Also out of the blue tonight, Rachel said this:
"I hope you guys never forget about me," she said. "If you do, you'll break my heart."
Shocked, I could only reply that of course we'd never forget her. She's our daughter! That seemed to reassure her, for the moment.
I've told her many, many times that if I were her age I would LOVE to have her for a friend.
Rachel also talks about the tempestuous relationship she has with her little friend Devin. One minute they're best friends, the next minute Devin taunts her and says mean things, then they're friends again. Today was more of the same: St. James got new dress-up clothes (Disney princess dresses, apparently) and Devin and Rachel wanted the same one at the same time, so Devin yanked it out of Rachel's hand...and then she hit her!
"What did the teacher do?" I asked.
"A timeout," Rachel answered. Then: "Can you believe my best friend hitted me?"
No, sweetie. In a few years it will all be about teasing each other into eating disorders.
***
Also out of the blue tonight, Rachel said this:
"I hope you guys never forget about me," she said. "If you do, you'll break my heart."
Shocked, I could only reply that of course we'd never forget her. She's our daughter! That seemed to reassure her, for the moment.
Monday, May 13, 2013
Ancestors
"Mom, what are ancestors?" Rachel asked at dinner tonight.
"Ancestors are the people who came before us," I said.
"Tell me about our ancestors," she said.
I knew this talk was coming, so I gave an abbreviated version of Mom and Dad's time in Belgium during the war. I started with Grandpa's side of the family and told Rachel her great-grandparents were Chaika and Chaim, and told the story of how they fled Antwerp with two suitcases and two rucksacks and the boys to escape the Nazis, and ended up traveling all over before they finally got to America.
"Wow, that seems like really fun -- traveling all over the world!" Rachel said. "I would have liked to do that. What other ancestors?"
I explained to her that Grandpa's trip wasn't exactly fun, but that's how he remembers a lot of it. Then I told her about Grandma's parents, explaining the concept of concentration camps. "How did they die?" she said, and I tried to give her just enough basic information so as not to upset her.
She seemed fine with it all, but I hated to have that conversation.
The talk then turned to Daddy's side of the family, and we had a discussion about Luke Drury, and the powderhorn, and how I suggested that her middle name be Drury. "So your real name is Rachel Drury DeSilver," I concluded.
"I love my name!' Rachel exclaimed.
(We never did get to the Founding of the ACLU part of the family history; maybe another time).
"Ancestors are the people who came before us," I said.
"Tell me about our ancestors," she said.
I knew this talk was coming, so I gave an abbreviated version of Mom and Dad's time in Belgium during the war. I started with Grandpa's side of the family and told Rachel her great-grandparents were Chaika and Chaim, and told the story of how they fled Antwerp with two suitcases and two rucksacks and the boys to escape the Nazis, and ended up traveling all over before they finally got to America.
"Wow, that seems like really fun -- traveling all over the world!" Rachel said. "I would have liked to do that. What other ancestors?"
I explained to her that Grandpa's trip wasn't exactly fun, but that's how he remembers a lot of it. Then I told her about Grandma's parents, explaining the concept of concentration camps. "How did they die?" she said, and I tried to give her just enough basic information so as not to upset her.
She seemed fine with it all, but I hated to have that conversation.
The talk then turned to Daddy's side of the family, and we had a discussion about Luke Drury, and the powderhorn, and how I suggested that her middle name be Drury. "So your real name is Rachel Drury DeSilver," I concluded.
"I love my name!' Rachel exclaimed.
(We never did get to the Founding of the ACLU part of the family history; maybe another time).
Saturday, May 11, 2013
Lovely Saturday
Ah, the weather here has been lovelier than usual: Warm but not too hot, sunny and pleasant. I try to keep us outside as much as possible. Today we ran out to get me a new hairbrush (my old one broke) and then went to ballet class. After ballet we met a friend of ours, Angela, at a pizza place downtown and then strolled to the Saturday farmer's market at Portland State University, where I treated Rachel and I to Ruby Jewel ice cream sandwiches ($5 each, pricey but oh so worth it), while Angela got some lunch before her shift as a box office worker at a theater downtown. On the way we listened to a marimba player, and at the market Rachel made friends with some little girls sitting nearby. She looked so adorable with her face completely smudged with chocolate from the ice cream, I'm sure she was hard to resist!
Then we met Rachel's preschool friend Devin and Devin's mom, Linda, at a way cool fountain at Jamison Square in the Pearl District. (On hot weekday nights we've gone there after ordering Hot Lips pizza, and then finishing up with fantastic Cool Moon ice cream -- their chocolate sorbet is to DIE for). I brought a blanket, Linda bought an extra swimsuit for Rachel (a bikini -- now Rachel has decided SHE wants a bikini of her own) and we sat down while the girls played in the fountain. We were joined at one point by Giada, another preschool friend, and Giada's mom, Sharon. Luckily the girls stayed wet most of the time while the moms got to talk.
After around 2 1/2 hours, it was time to leave. Devin said some mean things to Rachel that I couldn't quite catch, but she started to cry and Devin wouldn't say she was sorry, she just kept her mean-looking face on and I wanted to scold her...but it wasn't my place. Rachel is always complaining that Devin "breaks up with me, and then she's my friend, and then she breaks up with me again." I hate that she's in thrall to this kid but there's not much I can do about it except tell Rachel to ignore her or find other friends.
Then Rachel and I went to dinner at a local brewpub that I am sick unto death of, but she likes because there's a play area. We rented "Barbie and the Pegasus" and I told her she could watch only a little of it because it was late and she could watch the rest of it tomorrow with Danielle. Danielle is a preschool teacher I am paying to watch Rachel while I attend commencement at the law school. Why do they always schedule it on Mother's Day?? Who knows. When I brought this ridiculousness up to Rachel she replied that if SHE were the director of graduation, she'd hold it on Mother's Day, Father's Day AND Teacher Appreciation Day. Which means I get no relief from my own family! Oh, well.
***
"Mommy," Rachel said at dinner tonight, "in the Cinderella play we went to, the carriage was magnificent! It had sparkles and it was gold. And best of all, it had little pillows so Cinderella could lay down and rest."
***
At dinner there was a basketball game on the overhead TV and Rachel stared at it quite fixedly for a while.
"Mommy, if you look at this game closely, it's really interesting," she said.
"I love basketball!" she said.
"If you like basketball so much, maybe we should sign you up for it," I answered."But I thought you liked T-ball!"
"Yes, but that's not my favorite," she said. "My favorite is basketball, gymnastics and soccer. I'm really good at soccer!"
Note taken.
***
"Mommy, have I told you this today?" Rachel said after she got up from dinner, wrapped her arms around me and gave me a hug. "I love you more than anything in the whole wide world."
Me too, sweetie.
Then we met Rachel's preschool friend Devin and Devin's mom, Linda, at a way cool fountain at Jamison Square in the Pearl District. (On hot weekday nights we've gone there after ordering Hot Lips pizza, and then finishing up with fantastic Cool Moon ice cream -- their chocolate sorbet is to DIE for). I brought a blanket, Linda bought an extra swimsuit for Rachel (a bikini -- now Rachel has decided SHE wants a bikini of her own) and we sat down while the girls played in the fountain. We were joined at one point by Giada, another preschool friend, and Giada's mom, Sharon. Luckily the girls stayed wet most of the time while the moms got to talk.
After around 2 1/2 hours, it was time to leave. Devin said some mean things to Rachel that I couldn't quite catch, but she started to cry and Devin wouldn't say she was sorry, she just kept her mean-looking face on and I wanted to scold her...but it wasn't my place. Rachel is always complaining that Devin "breaks up with me, and then she's my friend, and then she breaks up with me again." I hate that she's in thrall to this kid but there's not much I can do about it except tell Rachel to ignore her or find other friends.
Then Rachel and I went to dinner at a local brewpub that I am sick unto death of, but she likes because there's a play area. We rented "Barbie and the Pegasus" and I told her she could watch only a little of it because it was late and she could watch the rest of it tomorrow with Danielle. Danielle is a preschool teacher I am paying to watch Rachel while I attend commencement at the law school. Why do they always schedule it on Mother's Day?? Who knows. When I brought this ridiculousness up to Rachel she replied that if SHE were the director of graduation, she'd hold it on Mother's Day, Father's Day AND Teacher Appreciation Day. Which means I get no relief from my own family! Oh, well.
***
"Mommy," Rachel said at dinner tonight, "in the Cinderella play we went to, the carriage was magnificent! It had sparkles and it was gold. And best of all, it had little pillows so Cinderella could lay down and rest."
***
At dinner there was a basketball game on the overhead TV and Rachel stared at it quite fixedly for a while.
"Mommy, if you look at this game closely, it's really interesting," she said.
"I love basketball!" she said.
"If you like basketball so much, maybe we should sign you up for it," I answered."But I thought you liked T-ball!"
"Yes, but that's not my favorite," she said. "My favorite is basketball, gymnastics and soccer. I'm really good at soccer!"
Note taken.
***
"Mommy, have I told you this today?" Rachel said after she got up from dinner, wrapped her arms around me and gave me a hug. "I love you more than anything in the whole wide world."
Me too, sweetie.
Drowning
Rachel just woke up from a "scary dream" which recurs fairly often -- it's one in which she, Drew and I are all drowning. I've had a long talk with her before about life jackets, and how we would never let her swim/go on a boat without one, how they keep people afloat who can't swim, etc. -- but to no avail, it seems.
I have no idea why she has this dream; we haven't allowed her to watch any movies that involve people drowning. I feel wildly guilty that I didn't renew her swim lessons; she thinks the pool is just on spring break. Gotta do that the next chance I get.
Tonight while I was in the midst of a long conversation with Drew, Rachel opened the door at the bottom of the attic stairs: "Mom, I had a really scary dream," and it was about drowning. She wanted to know quite the details about the life jackets -- what if they become unbuckled? ("the people who would take us on the boat would check to see if they were buckled properly"). What if there weren't any life jackets on the boat? ("we would never go on a boat without life jackets"). What if we went on a boat all alone? ("We'd never be all alone on a boat"). I told her I have never in my life been on a boat without a life jacket. As soon as the words left my mouth I realized that wasn't quite true, but I didn't want to take the words back. They seemed to reassure her.
We chatted a little about lifeguards -- what if the lifeguards drowned? ("They don't drown, they're great swimmers. That's why they're lifeguards!").
The whole conversation lasted around 15 minutes.
"Thanks for giving me such good advice," she said, as I kissed her goodnight.
I have no idea why she has this dream; we haven't allowed her to watch any movies that involve people drowning. I feel wildly guilty that I didn't renew her swim lessons; she thinks the pool is just on spring break. Gotta do that the next chance I get.
Tonight while I was in the midst of a long conversation with Drew, Rachel opened the door at the bottom of the attic stairs: "Mom, I had a really scary dream," and it was about drowning. She wanted to know quite the details about the life jackets -- what if they become unbuckled? ("the people who would take us on the boat would check to see if they were buckled properly"). What if there weren't any life jackets on the boat? ("we would never go on a boat without life jackets"). What if we went on a boat all alone? ("We'd never be all alone on a boat"). I told her I have never in my life been on a boat without a life jacket. As soon as the words left my mouth I realized that wasn't quite true, but I didn't want to take the words back. They seemed to reassure her.
We chatted a little about lifeguards -- what if the lifeguards drowned? ("They don't drown, they're great swimmers. That's why they're lifeguards!").
The whole conversation lasted around 15 minutes.
"Thanks for giving me such good advice," she said, as I kissed her goodnight.
Friday, May 10, 2013
Shabbat
When I return to synagogue after not going for weeks, I always end up feeling uplifted and happy that I decided to go. I especially love taking Rachel with me; it's like having a Friday date night. She was a little squirmy tonight because of the little girl behind her (I'd estimate she was 3) who would NOT stop chattering and whining, and finally her mom (mercifully) took her away for a while. But she more than made up for it by crawling into my lap right before the sermon, wrapping her arms around my neck and whispering, "Happy early Mother's Day" into my ear. MELT!!!
Afterward I had hoped we could go to Kenny & Zuke's for dinner, since I hadn't planned on cooking and I am so tired anyway (I woke up in the middle of the night and had a very hard time getting back to sleep), but Rachel said her tummy hurt, and she wanted to eat pasta at home. She said she still had a headache from all the kids today who a) wouldn't hold her hand correctly; b) made fun of her, and it sounds like she's just overwhelmed by how annoying kids can be. (Who can blame her, really?). It was quite hot today, which I'm sure didn't help her mood, and I insisted she drink some water.
We had a nice Shabbat dinner and I let her stay up late while we read "The Giving Tree" and I washed her face with cool water, which she said during dinner that she couldn't wait for me to do. I insisted she wear the summer nightie that Tia Daniella got her for Passover (thank you, Tia Daniella!) and Rachel asked me to turn on the fan. It should be hot tomorrow, but not AS hot, and then it will cool down and rain into next week.
***
"Mommy, I kind of wish you were little," Rachel said tonight.
"Why?" I asked.
"'Cause we could be friends," she replied. "And we could be in the same school, we could be in the same class, and we could....live together!"
Can someone please remind her of this conversation when she's a surly teenager??
***
"Mommy, I can hardly believe it!" Rachel exclaimed as I finished preparing dinner. "You're doing ALL the chores. I don't want the only thing for you to not do is set the table!"
"I have to do everything," I said. "There's no one else!"
***
"If you died, that would break my heart and I would kill myself," Rachel said.
"Rachel, don't EVER say that," I said firmly. Then I stopped what I was doing, looked over at her (she was in the midst of setting the table for dinner), and said, "Rachel, when I die, you'll be ready for it. You really will."
"Ready?" she said.
"Yes," I said. "You'll be prepared." Then trying to lighten things up I added, "Besides, I'm too mean to die."
"You're not mean at all!" she answered. At least it got us off that grim topic....
Afterward I had hoped we could go to Kenny & Zuke's for dinner, since I hadn't planned on cooking and I am so tired anyway (I woke up in the middle of the night and had a very hard time getting back to sleep), but Rachel said her tummy hurt, and she wanted to eat pasta at home. She said she still had a headache from all the kids today who a) wouldn't hold her hand correctly; b) made fun of her, and it sounds like she's just overwhelmed by how annoying kids can be. (Who can blame her, really?). It was quite hot today, which I'm sure didn't help her mood, and I insisted she drink some water.
We had a nice Shabbat dinner and I let her stay up late while we read "The Giving Tree" and I washed her face with cool water, which she said during dinner that she couldn't wait for me to do. I insisted she wear the summer nightie that Tia Daniella got her for Passover (thank you, Tia Daniella!) and Rachel asked me to turn on the fan. It should be hot tomorrow, but not AS hot, and then it will cool down and rain into next week.
***
"Mommy, I kind of wish you were little," Rachel said tonight.
"Why?" I asked.
"'Cause we could be friends," she replied. "And we could be in the same school, we could be in the same class, and we could....live together!"
Can someone please remind her of this conversation when she's a surly teenager??
***
"Mommy, I can hardly believe it!" Rachel exclaimed as I finished preparing dinner. "You're doing ALL the chores. I don't want the only thing for you to not do is set the table!"
"I have to do everything," I said. "There's no one else!"
***
"If you died, that would break my heart and I would kill myself," Rachel said.
"Rachel, don't EVER say that," I said firmly. Then I stopped what I was doing, looked over at her (she was in the midst of setting the table for dinner), and said, "Rachel, when I die, you'll be ready for it. You really will."
"Ready?" she said.
"Yes," I said. "You'll be prepared." Then trying to lighten things up I added, "Besides, I'm too mean to die."
"You're not mean at all!" she answered. At least it got us off that grim topic....
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Gardening
One of the things that enchanted us about the house when we moved in back in 2004 was the rock garden in the front and the flat lawn in the back with fruit trees, raspberry bushes and space for an herb garden. We had all kinds of plans for maintaining and expanding the space, and for a while -- when we had more money and time -- we did. Then I spent the summer writing a book, and the summer after that on a book tour, and then we had a kid and so we used the excuse that the kid was preventing us from gardening.
So our gardening has deteriorated over the last few years to paying workers to do massive cleanups twice a year (because I don't want Drew standing on a ladder and trying to prune the trees and risk falling and breaking his neck) and keeping up with the weeding in between. Which we barely do because, let's face it, we'd rather be out doing fun things on weekends instead of pulling weeds that seem to come back the second we yank them. This was going to be the summer, we told ourselves, that Rachel would finally be big enough to really help us in the garden.
I had a chance to test that today, because while working from home today I saw the backyard lawn was getting tufty again (a week after we arraned for one of those massive cleanups) and the roses in the front really needed plucking and spraying. Since I don't want to spend our weekend doing all that, I decided that Rachel and I would tackle the gardening tonight. She got right down to it and didn't even complain about not being able to bike or play on the playground or get frozen yogurt. For which I was very grateful.
While I mowed the front lawn, Rachel plucked ALL the dead dandelion stems from the strip of grass between our house and neighbor Fay's. Then she dumped all the dead roses I handed her into the green bucket, and decided to dig in the dirt for a while and exclaimed happily when she found ROOTS underneath the soil. As soon as we were done with the front, Rachel announced, "I'm going to go inside for a while," and proceeded to make me a valentine/Mother's Day card while I mowed and edged the back (a tiring task that made me realize just how much effort Drew puts into it). The whole thing, front and back, took about an hour -- longer than I thought it would. Twilight was just beginning to fall when I finished up, and I felt the soft air and looked around me, quietly satisfied. I came into the house with a handful of roses and asked Rachel how many she wanted for her bedroom, since she had been such a great helper, and she replied, "all of them!"
So now there's a vase of red roses and one yellow on her dresser. I also announced that since we'd both worked hard, she would get to have juice with dinner and I'd have hard cider.
It was bath night, and I didn't get Rachel down until 9:50 p.m. -- but it was worth it. I won't have to weed or mow for at least another week, and everything really does look neat and pretty.
Oh, and when I was done putting Rachel to sleep, I mopped the kitchen floor.
***
Rachel does a hilarious imitation of Lila, a unicorn in "Barbie Swan Lake" who can be a bit dramatic at times. In one scene she said, exaggeratedly, "I know. It's all OVER. Bye-BYE, world!" Rachel loves saying this at least once a day.
"Which one of your friends is the most dramatic?" I asked at dinner tonight after she had done the Lila imitation.
"Um, that would be...ME!" she said. "I'm the most dramatic. I'm the drama queen!"
Oh, let's hope not.
So our gardening has deteriorated over the last few years to paying workers to do massive cleanups twice a year (because I don't want Drew standing on a ladder and trying to prune the trees and risk falling and breaking his neck) and keeping up with the weeding in between. Which we barely do because, let's face it, we'd rather be out doing fun things on weekends instead of pulling weeds that seem to come back the second we yank them. This was going to be the summer, we told ourselves, that Rachel would finally be big enough to really help us in the garden.
I had a chance to test that today, because while working from home today I saw the backyard lawn was getting tufty again (a week after we arraned for one of those massive cleanups) and the roses in the front really needed plucking and spraying. Since I don't want to spend our weekend doing all that, I decided that Rachel and I would tackle the gardening tonight. She got right down to it and didn't even complain about not being able to bike or play on the playground or get frozen yogurt. For which I was very grateful.
While I mowed the front lawn, Rachel plucked ALL the dead dandelion stems from the strip of grass between our house and neighbor Fay's. Then she dumped all the dead roses I handed her into the green bucket, and decided to dig in the dirt for a while and exclaimed happily when she found ROOTS underneath the soil. As soon as we were done with the front, Rachel announced, "I'm going to go inside for a while," and proceeded to make me a valentine/Mother's Day card while I mowed and edged the back (a tiring task that made me realize just how much effort Drew puts into it). The whole thing, front and back, took about an hour -- longer than I thought it would. Twilight was just beginning to fall when I finished up, and I felt the soft air and looked around me, quietly satisfied. I came into the house with a handful of roses and asked Rachel how many she wanted for her bedroom, since she had been such a great helper, and she replied, "all of them!"
So now there's a vase of red roses and one yellow on her dresser. I also announced that since we'd both worked hard, she would get to have juice with dinner and I'd have hard cider.
It was bath night, and I didn't get Rachel down until 9:50 p.m. -- but it was worth it. I won't have to weed or mow for at least another week, and everything really does look neat and pretty.
Oh, and when I was done putting Rachel to sleep, I mopped the kitchen floor.
***
Rachel does a hilarious imitation of Lila, a unicorn in "Barbie Swan Lake" who can be a bit dramatic at times. In one scene she said, exaggeratedly, "I know. It's all OVER. Bye-BYE, world!" Rachel loves saying this at least once a day.
"Which one of your friends is the most dramatic?" I asked at dinner tonight after she had done the Lila imitation.
"Um, that would be...ME!" she said. "I'm the most dramatic. I'm the drama queen!"
Oh, let's hope not.
Monday, May 6, 2013
Leaving Mommy in the dust
One of the joys of raising a child is to see how well they take to language -- the colloquialisms, the expressions they pick up and promptly mangle, the expressions they make up out of whole cloth.
Tonight I insisted that Rachel bike to Alameda Elementary School's playground, which is a bit of a ride (only because I keep forgetting what street it's closest to, so we end up doing some meandering around the neighborhood) and she complains that it tires out her legs. She actually did quite well and said proudly that she wasn't tired at all by the time we got there.
"I'm going to leave you in the DUST, Mommy!" she kept saying.
"You've already left me in the dust, sweetie!" I called out at one point, because in many ways -- not just biking -- she has.
***
Sweet Rachel-isms tonight:
"I love you, Rachel," I said as we were heading home. "I love you very much."
"With all your heart?" she demanded.
"With all my heart and all my soul," I answered.
"I love you to the ends of the Earth and back!" she called as she sped off on her bike. "And the whole GALAXY!"
I don't think even Drew loves me THAT much...:)
***
"And Mommy?" Rachel said at dinner. "I found out that fairies sleep with their wings on. They just fold them up and cuddle the leaf blanket and press their pillows on their heads and push down on their leafs beds all snug and sound."
Tonight I insisted that Rachel bike to Alameda Elementary School's playground, which is a bit of a ride (only because I keep forgetting what street it's closest to, so we end up doing some meandering around the neighborhood) and she complains that it tires out her legs. She actually did quite well and said proudly that she wasn't tired at all by the time we got there.
"I'm going to leave you in the DUST, Mommy!" she kept saying.
"You've already left me in the dust, sweetie!" I called out at one point, because in many ways -- not just biking -- she has.
***
Sweet Rachel-isms tonight:
"I love you, Rachel," I said as we were heading home. "I love you very much."
"With all your heart?" she demanded.
"With all my heart and all my soul," I answered.
"I love you to the ends of the Earth and back!" she called as she sped off on her bike. "And the whole GALAXY!"
I don't think even Drew loves me THAT much...:)
***
"And Mommy?" Rachel said at dinner. "I found out that fairies sleep with their wings on. They just fold them up and cuddle the leaf blanket and press their pillows on their heads and push down on their leafs beds all snug and sound."
Sunday, May 5, 2013
Social Sunday
Busy day today -- hot and sunny, two playdates, and a whole lot of errands. Dropped Rachel off at her friend Tessa's this morning, stayed to visit a bit with Tessa's mom, Helen, then raced off to do grocery shopping, mail off Mom's Mother's Day gift and made it back to Helen's by 2. Tessa was about to go down for a nap, which I attempted to persuade Rachel to do, but she pretty much refused although I did get to snooze for about a half hour. Then it was time to pack up and meet Sarah and Noah in Grant Park.
Rachel and Noah had a great time caroming around the park; Rachel tried Noah's bike (and smugly noted that, "isn't it weird that he's 6 1/2 and he STILL has training wheels?" I agreed with her but then quickly hushed her, saying Noah wouldn't want to feel bad about that. Isn't it great that kids have no filter?). Anyway, Sarah and I sat on a picnic blanket and chatted for a while until we headed to Laurelwood Brewpub for dinner, which has a play area. The kids played while Sarah and I talked more, mostly about elementary schools and our frustrations with PPS schools in general and I drank a most excellent hard cider that probably isn't sold outside Portland, alas. Noah has really warmed up to Rachel, and a couple of times he repeated to her what I kept telling her during dinner -- eat more carrots, put more radiatore on her spoonful so she eats more pasta, etc. -- and at one point he insisted that she KISS him so he could fall over and pretend to die. It was really cute watching her do so, until I suddenly flashed on them being awkward adolescents, being forced to all go out to dinner together, and then it wasn't so cute after all.
Rachel and Noah had a great time caroming around the park; Rachel tried Noah's bike (and smugly noted that, "isn't it weird that he's 6 1/2 and he STILL has training wheels?" I agreed with her but then quickly hushed her, saying Noah wouldn't want to feel bad about that. Isn't it great that kids have no filter?). Anyway, Sarah and I sat on a picnic blanket and chatted for a while until we headed to Laurelwood Brewpub for dinner, which has a play area. The kids played while Sarah and I talked more, mostly about elementary schools and our frustrations with PPS schools in general and I drank a most excellent hard cider that probably isn't sold outside Portland, alas. Noah has really warmed up to Rachel, and a couple of times he repeated to her what I kept telling her during dinner -- eat more carrots, put more radiatore on her spoonful so she eats more pasta, etc. -- and at one point he insisted that she KISS him so he could fall over and pretend to die. It was really cute watching her do so, until I suddenly flashed on them being awkward adolescents, being forced to all go out to dinner together, and then it wasn't so cute after all.
Saturday, May 4, 2013
Keeping it in perspective
So, it has been a crappy week. Battling a cold, sore throat, tummy problems, and on Thursday I fell on my tailbone after playing with Rachel on the play structure at the Madeline Parish down the street. Also doing a lot of decluttering of the house, which makes me mentally and physically exhausted.
We hired some folks to do landscaping clean-up and interior deep cleaning. The landscapers did a terrific job, as did the interior cleaners -- we can now see out of crystal clear windows, our garage is swept and everything looks picture perfect -- except that a member of the cleaning crew stole my digital camera (with images of Rachel and of my trip to Africa last year that I hadn't downloaded yet) and two pieces of jewelry that had great sentimental value: a ring Grandpa made for me and a necklace Drew's mom gave me years ago.
I called head of the crew, Elmer, last night and told him about the camera (this was before I discovered that the jewelry was missing). I told him I wasn't interested in going to the police, I just wanted my camera back. To his credit, he believed me at once because he had thought it odd that the guy assigned to the hall closet was cleaning out the shelves and not just sweeping the dust from the floors. He had immediately fired the guy this morning after the guy told him, "I can't give you what I don't have," which I thought was an odd way to construct a sentence. Turns out the guy's brother is also part of Elmer's crew, and the brother offered to go to the guy's house and get the camera back. Took him 45 minutes to do so, but he got it back. Elmer was horribly embarrassed and said this hasn't happened in the 37 years he's been doing this work. The guy had worked for him for 7 years with no incidents, although his wages were being garnished for non-payment of alimony.
Later I was able to search the house and discovered the two missing pieces of jewelry. I called Elmer again and told him that Drew and I are beyond angry at the his point, and that he had the weekend to come up with the missing jewelry or I'd go to the police on Monday. He sounded truly whipped at that point and said he'd do whatever he could to help.
So at Drew's suggestion I ended up having drinks and dinner with a friend of mine who just moved here after she and her husband lost their house, which was underwater anyway, to Hurricane Sandy. "Your job for the next three hours is to tell me that it's just STUFF," I said. She didn't exactly do that but she was extremely sympathetic. Best quote of the evening, "You're IN it," she said. "I'm not." (Meaning she's far away from Long Island and dealing with house stuff remotely while she builds a new life in a wonderful city). I proceeded to order two cocktails, a mess of seafood off the happy hour menu, and for dessert we went to a fabulous ice cream place, Ruby Jewel, across the street.
And when I picked Rachel up from Parents Night Out at St. James, I suggested we spread out our picnic blanket on our freshly mowed backyard and look at the stars. "That's the best idea EVER!" she said.
***
Today's cute Rachel saying (because I'm finding it hard to smile tonight):
"I love silly words like wombat," she said at breakfast. "I could say that all day! Wombat wombat wombat wombat!"
We hired some folks to do landscaping clean-up and interior deep cleaning. The landscapers did a terrific job, as did the interior cleaners -- we can now see out of crystal clear windows, our garage is swept and everything looks picture perfect -- except that a member of the cleaning crew stole my digital camera (with images of Rachel and of my trip to Africa last year that I hadn't downloaded yet) and two pieces of jewelry that had great sentimental value: a ring Grandpa made for me and a necklace Drew's mom gave me years ago.
I called head of the crew, Elmer, last night and told him about the camera (this was before I discovered that the jewelry was missing). I told him I wasn't interested in going to the police, I just wanted my camera back. To his credit, he believed me at once because he had thought it odd that the guy assigned to the hall closet was cleaning out the shelves and not just sweeping the dust from the floors. He had immediately fired the guy this morning after the guy told him, "I can't give you what I don't have," which I thought was an odd way to construct a sentence. Turns out the guy's brother is also part of Elmer's crew, and the brother offered to go to the guy's house and get the camera back. Took him 45 minutes to do so, but he got it back. Elmer was horribly embarrassed and said this hasn't happened in the 37 years he's been doing this work. The guy had worked for him for 7 years with no incidents, although his wages were being garnished for non-payment of alimony.
Later I was able to search the house and discovered the two missing pieces of jewelry. I called Elmer again and told him that Drew and I are beyond angry at the his point, and that he had the weekend to come up with the missing jewelry or I'd go to the police on Monday. He sounded truly whipped at that point and said he'd do whatever he could to help.
So at Drew's suggestion I ended up having drinks and dinner with a friend of mine who just moved here after she and her husband lost their house, which was underwater anyway, to Hurricane Sandy. "Your job for the next three hours is to tell me that it's just STUFF," I said. She didn't exactly do that but she was extremely sympathetic. Best quote of the evening, "You're IN it," she said. "I'm not." (Meaning she's far away from Long Island and dealing with house stuff remotely while she builds a new life in a wonderful city). I proceeded to order two cocktails, a mess of seafood off the happy hour menu, and for dessert we went to a fabulous ice cream place, Ruby Jewel, across the street.
And when I picked Rachel up from Parents Night Out at St. James, I suggested we spread out our picnic blanket on our freshly mowed backyard and look at the stars. "That's the best idea EVER!" she said.
***
Today's cute Rachel saying (because I'm finding it hard to smile tonight):
"I love silly words like wombat," she said at breakfast. "I could say that all day! Wombat wombat wombat wombat!"
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