One day this week, when Rachel stood up on a kitchen chair to hug me, I said, "How'd I get so lucky to have you as a kid?"
"Maybe that's the way I was born, maybe that's how my body wanted to be, or maybe because you gave that happiness to me," she said seriously.
(sob)
***
We were discussing the number of kids who would come to her birthday party, and I said I thought there would be 7, but maybe not.
"If anyone else doesn't come, that's OK," she said, "because 7 is plenty."
***
On the way home from the computer store for what seemed like the thousandth time (it's a half hour drive away), Rachel suddenly said we needed to pretend we were werewolves and coyotes, and howl. Werevolves are in a higher key, coyote in a lower key.
"Werewolves are the melody," she said, "and coyotes are the harmony."
Glad to see all those Sweet Adeline rehearsals and performances are paying off!!
Saturday, June 29, 2013
Happy birthday Rachel!
We decided to have an early birthday celebration for Rachel at Drew's suggestion, and today was the day. Planning for it has added a major amount of stress to my already stressed-out life, so I was relieved to have her party day finally arrive.
Rachel insisted on holding it at the Southwest Community Center, which has a nice gym area and pool, which is more of a water park than a swim area. I ordered a cake (would have made one, except there were around 20 people, adults and kids, who came, and I don't have the culinary skills to bake for so many) from a wonderful bakery near our house -- strawberry frosted chocolate cake with strawberry cream filling -- and Disney princesses on top. Priceless was Rachel's reaction at the bakery when we picked it up: "Oh, MOMMY! ThankyouThankyouThankyou for getting me a cake with DISNEY PRINCESSES!" All the little old ladies who work at the bakery gathered around to watch Rachel's reaction and they were totally delighted. Luckily I had help from a friend, Sarah, who brought juice boxes and snacks. Rachel and I raced through a party store this morning, grabbing stuff for gift bags that I assembled at the bakery, as well as cups, plates, forks, etc. Then it was on to swim lessons, where I ran into a woman named Angela who used to work at the Oregonian with me years ago; our kids are apparently in the same swim class and are around the same age; I remember that Angela and I compared pregnancies way back when. Good thing she remembered me because I had no idea who she was.
After swim lessons we headed to the farmer's market, where I suddenly realized I had no matches for the cake and wondered if SWCC had a knife to cut the cake, so I called them, and when I hung up the phone Rachel could see I was distressed. She put down her slice of pizza and crawled into my lap.
"I just want to make everything perfect for you," I said.
"You're the best mommy in the whole world," she replied.
"What makes me the best mommy?" I said.
"Because you try to make everything perfect," she said. "But everything doesn't have to be perfect. It's good enough as it is."
WISDOM. From a kid.
Anyway, then we went to the community center, where they had set up things to play with in the gym. Rachel managed to injure herself not once, not twice, but five times in the space of 18 minutes (twisted her ankle on the mats, fell over on the tricycle, fell off the scooter twice, and a fifth thing that I can't remember). The two teenage "helpers" assigned to the gym and the party were completely useless. But Rachel remained pretty cheerful, limping along on her tender ankle, like an 80-year-old woman, and I had a nice time chatting with the parents. At the end we all played the "parachute game" where we grabbed the edges of a parachute and waved it up and down while the kids ran under it. Unexpectedly cool, so much so that I and another parent agreed we should buy a parachute and have the kids over and the parents would drink wine while we waved it up and down.
At the actual party, Rachel got three Barbies (because one isn't enough, evidently), a cool construction game for girls, a Barbie computer, etc. She insisted on distributing the gift bags herself ("to thank my friends for singing to me") AND passing out slices of cake. Really, it was astonishing.
And the best part was the parents thanked me profusely for such a nice afternoon and a few said, "well done! We could never do this; we're not organized enough."
And then we went home and I crashed for an hour while Rachel played with her toys, went back to the computer store because I loathe loathe loathe the computer and the Windows operating system I bought and I needed tech help but Macs are too expensive; and then we had a late dinner and I put Rachel to bed.
Hopefully she will have some happy memories.
Rachel insisted on holding it at the Southwest Community Center, which has a nice gym area and pool, which is more of a water park than a swim area. I ordered a cake (would have made one, except there were around 20 people, adults and kids, who came, and I don't have the culinary skills to bake for so many) from a wonderful bakery near our house -- strawberry frosted chocolate cake with strawberry cream filling -- and Disney princesses on top. Priceless was Rachel's reaction at the bakery when we picked it up: "Oh, MOMMY! ThankyouThankyouThankyou for getting me a cake with DISNEY PRINCESSES!" All the little old ladies who work at the bakery gathered around to watch Rachel's reaction and they were totally delighted. Luckily I had help from a friend, Sarah, who brought juice boxes and snacks. Rachel and I raced through a party store this morning, grabbing stuff for gift bags that I assembled at the bakery, as well as cups, plates, forks, etc. Then it was on to swim lessons, where I ran into a woman named Angela who used to work at the Oregonian with me years ago; our kids are apparently in the same swim class and are around the same age; I remember that Angela and I compared pregnancies way back when. Good thing she remembered me because I had no idea who she was.
After swim lessons we headed to the farmer's market, where I suddenly realized I had no matches for the cake and wondered if SWCC had a knife to cut the cake, so I called them, and when I hung up the phone Rachel could see I was distressed. She put down her slice of pizza and crawled into my lap.
"I just want to make everything perfect for you," I said.
"You're the best mommy in the whole world," she replied.
"What makes me the best mommy?" I said.
"Because you try to make everything perfect," she said. "But everything doesn't have to be perfect. It's good enough as it is."
WISDOM. From a kid.
Anyway, then we went to the community center, where they had set up things to play with in the gym. Rachel managed to injure herself not once, not twice, but five times in the space of 18 minutes (twisted her ankle on the mats, fell over on the tricycle, fell off the scooter twice, and a fifth thing that I can't remember). The two teenage "helpers" assigned to the gym and the party were completely useless. But Rachel remained pretty cheerful, limping along on her tender ankle, like an 80-year-old woman, and I had a nice time chatting with the parents. At the end we all played the "parachute game" where we grabbed the edges of a parachute and waved it up and down while the kids ran under it. Unexpectedly cool, so much so that I and another parent agreed we should buy a parachute and have the kids over and the parents would drink wine while we waved it up and down.
At the actual party, Rachel got three Barbies (because one isn't enough, evidently), a cool construction game for girls, a Barbie computer, etc. She insisted on distributing the gift bags herself ("to thank my friends for singing to me") AND passing out slices of cake. Really, it was astonishing.
And the best part was the parents thanked me profusely for such a nice afternoon and a few said, "well done! We could never do this; we're not organized enough."
And then we went home and I crashed for an hour while Rachel played with her toys, went back to the computer store because I loathe loathe loathe the computer and the Windows operating system I bought and I needed tech help but Macs are too expensive; and then we had a late dinner and I put Rachel to bed.
Hopefully she will have some happy memories.
Friday, June 21, 2013
Tough last few days
..for a couple of reasons: Drew and I received news that our roof has only 3 to 5 years of life left in it, meaning we'll have to decide how to deal with this issue; and the Oregonian, my former employer, laid off a whole bunch of people yesterday and today. Like, a third of the newsroom. It has been three years since I left, but reading about the firings stirred up a lot of old emotions and I've had trouble concentrating at work yesterday and today.
One thing that helped was going to an annual Ladies' Night Out that my friend Deni puts together every year during Portland Dining Month (in June). You get an exquisite three-course meal at some great restaurants -- tonight it was Genoa, one of PDX's finest -- for $29. I got into a long conversation with one of the women, a real estate agent, about roofs. And I heard some horrific stories about real estate, especially rentals, since Deni and her husband have a rental house and lately they've had problems finding tenants.
Anyway, I got home and Cori, Rachel's babysitter, was telling me all about the great time she and Rachel had building a fort, and reading the latest chapter in Charlotte's Web, the one where Charlotte dies. Rachel was concerned about having to tell me the news.
"I'll have to break it to her gently," she said, "because she'll be really sad."
If that isn't incredibly sweet, I don't know what is.
Cori, who is a teacher in Rachel's class, told me a lot about how Rachel acts at school. She said she's really smart and that she and Devin, who have a really hot and cold relationship, are the "queen bees" of the Fireflies group -- everyone wants to play with them. One thing that Rachel needs to work on is to not get so frustrated when Devin puts her hands over her ears to drown out Rachel's talking. "She does that because she knows Rachel can out-talk her," Cori said. "I know she's right, but I have to tell her to calm down, do something else for 10 minutes" and then Devin usually comes around.
So today, Devin put her hands over her ears to shut out the sound of Rachel's voice, and Rachel got mad, but Teacher Cori told her to go color for 10 minutes. Pretty soon Devin walked up to Rachel, who said very sweetly, "Would you like to color with me?" And pretty soon they were best buddies again and when the other kids tried to come up to them and ask to join them they said in unison, "We need some space because we're coloring."
One thing that helped was going to an annual Ladies' Night Out that my friend Deni puts together every year during Portland Dining Month (in June). You get an exquisite three-course meal at some great restaurants -- tonight it was Genoa, one of PDX's finest -- for $29. I got into a long conversation with one of the women, a real estate agent, about roofs. And I heard some horrific stories about real estate, especially rentals, since Deni and her husband have a rental house and lately they've had problems finding tenants.
Anyway, I got home and Cori, Rachel's babysitter, was telling me all about the great time she and Rachel had building a fort, and reading the latest chapter in Charlotte's Web, the one where Charlotte dies. Rachel was concerned about having to tell me the news.
"I'll have to break it to her gently," she said, "because she'll be really sad."
If that isn't incredibly sweet, I don't know what is.
Cori, who is a teacher in Rachel's class, told me a lot about how Rachel acts at school. She said she's really smart and that she and Devin, who have a really hot and cold relationship, are the "queen bees" of the Fireflies group -- everyone wants to play with them. One thing that Rachel needs to work on is to not get so frustrated when Devin puts her hands over her ears to drown out Rachel's talking. "She does that because she knows Rachel can out-talk her," Cori said. "I know she's right, but I have to tell her to calm down, do something else for 10 minutes" and then Devin usually comes around.
So today, Devin put her hands over her ears to shut out the sound of Rachel's voice, and Rachel got mad, but Teacher Cori told her to go color for 10 minutes. Pretty soon Devin walked up to Rachel, who said very sweetly, "Would you like to color with me?" And pretty soon they were best buddies again and when the other kids tried to come up to them and ask to join them they said in unison, "We need some space because we're coloring."
Monday, June 17, 2013
Conversations with my daughter
..cover the ends of the universe. Tonight it was, "what sounds don't you like the most?"
"Fingernails across a blackboard," I answered. "Babies crying over and over and over."
"And motorcyles?" Rachel asked.
"Yeah, and motorcycles," I answered.
She agreed with me except for the babies crying; she substituted something going "WHACK!" on a table.
"What are your favorite sounds?" she said.
"The sound of your laughter," I said, and she smiled.
"Birds chirping in the early morning," I said. "And the sound of rain pattering on a roof on a warm night."
Hers were the sound of falling leaves and two others that I can't remember. Really, she's a poet.
***
As we were heading to the grocery store after work tonight, Rachel complained she was hungry.
"I'm 10 pounds and to the ends of the universe and back hungry," she said. "I'm STARVING!"
I resisted the urge to tell her about the hungry children in Africa.
***
Tia Daniella sent Rachel an early birthday present so it would be sure to get here while she, Jojo and Valerie are in Taiwan -- thank you, Tia Daniella! Rachel wanted to open it right away but of course I said no.
"Did Valerie have something to do with it?" she asked.
I told her I wasn't sure but I thought so.
"I hope Valerie had something to do with it," she replied. "Then I'd have a little bit of my cousin every day!"
"Fingernails across a blackboard," I answered. "Babies crying over and over and over."
"And motorcyles?" Rachel asked.
"Yeah, and motorcycles," I answered.
She agreed with me except for the babies crying; she substituted something going "WHACK!" on a table.
"What are your favorite sounds?" she said.
"The sound of your laughter," I said, and she smiled.
"Birds chirping in the early morning," I said. "And the sound of rain pattering on a roof on a warm night."
Hers were the sound of falling leaves and two others that I can't remember. Really, she's a poet.
***
As we were heading to the grocery store after work tonight, Rachel complained she was hungry.
"I'm 10 pounds and to the ends of the universe and back hungry," she said. "I'm STARVING!"
I resisted the urge to tell her about the hungry children in Africa.
***
Tia Daniella sent Rachel an early birthday present so it would be sure to get here while she, Jojo and Valerie are in Taiwan -- thank you, Tia Daniella! Rachel wanted to open it right away but of course I said no.
"Did Valerie have something to do with it?" she asked.
I told her I wasn't sure but I thought so.
"I hope Valerie had something to do with it," she replied. "Then I'd have a little bit of my cousin every day!"
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Sick again
The weekend actually started out really well; raced Rachel to ballet Saturday after spending the morning getting the house straightened up, then stopped at the farmer's market and picked up half a flat of strawberries (I eat them every morning for breakfast so we go through them pretty quickly), sausage from Olympic Provisions, some artichokes and raspberries (which we finished as we were walking through the market) and cherries. Ah, Oregon produce. Nothing beats it.
Then we went to the graduation lunch of a friend of mine from Oregon Health Sciences University. She's actually more of a friend of a friend; her husband and I are friends through Facebook, he keeps inviting me to political events that he's involved in and I keep refusing, so this graduation seemed a good time to make up for all my absences. Plus, it's graduation from medical school -- a big deal, I can't imagine doing that myself -- so I'm glad I went.
The woman who graduated, Alisha, is one of only two black psychiatrists in Oregon. She was a member of the first class of "I Have a Dream" kids who got full rides to college back in the 1990s (she went to Stanford and George Washington University Medical School, and now has finished her residency at OHSU), plus she was Rose Festival queen. Quite a resume. She also has two kids. Her husband is from Angola, and I can easily see one (or both) of them running for elected office in Oregon someday and winning.
Anyway, it was a lovely event; several black preachers and teachers talking about Alisha and how she was special from Day One; Alisha thanking everyone for their support including grandmothers, siblings, relatives, etc. I was struck by the very strong message of "it takes a village" to raise up and mentor someone like Alisha, who continues to pay back everyone who helped her by volunteering in schools, mentoring young kids, etc. The black community in Portland is very small, and it was really touching to see the fierce closeness of the people surrounding Alisha. At least one of her mentors has attended every major event in her life -- high school graduation, college graduation, med school graduation, and now residency completion. I hope to go to more of those events in the future.
Afterward I discovered I had a flat tire, so I gently drove the car to the nearest gas station, pumped it full of air, raced home and baked a quick batch of chocolate chip cookies and headed to our friend Sarah and Michael's house (her son Noah was at his dad's) for dinner. We had a fine time drinking hard cider and eating dinner and my cookies were a huge hit (sorry, Drew, that your cookie baking superiority is being challenged).
This morning I woke up with a horrible headache that persisted throughout the day, leaving me nauseous, exhausted and grumpy. The tire had gone flat again, and during Rachel's haircut I called AAA, had them pump up the tire again, went to a tire store and was told that the tire is useless and I need a new one. I got us home on the spare tire, fed Rachel some lunch and plopped her in front of a movie while I took a 2 1/2 hour nap. Then we went out to dinner because I didn't have the energy to cook. What didn't get done today: picking up the computer I bought two weeks ago; getting a pedicure; grocery shopping; playing outside; cleaning the house. Guess I'll have to take care of all of it tomorrow.
Then we went to the graduation lunch of a friend of mine from Oregon Health Sciences University. She's actually more of a friend of a friend; her husband and I are friends through Facebook, he keeps inviting me to political events that he's involved in and I keep refusing, so this graduation seemed a good time to make up for all my absences. Plus, it's graduation from medical school -- a big deal, I can't imagine doing that myself -- so I'm glad I went.
The woman who graduated, Alisha, is one of only two black psychiatrists in Oregon. She was a member of the first class of "I Have a Dream" kids who got full rides to college back in the 1990s (she went to Stanford and George Washington University Medical School, and now has finished her residency at OHSU), plus she was Rose Festival queen. Quite a resume. She also has two kids. Her husband is from Angola, and I can easily see one (or both) of them running for elected office in Oregon someday and winning.
Anyway, it was a lovely event; several black preachers and teachers talking about Alisha and how she was special from Day One; Alisha thanking everyone for their support including grandmothers, siblings, relatives, etc. I was struck by the very strong message of "it takes a village" to raise up and mentor someone like Alisha, who continues to pay back everyone who helped her by volunteering in schools, mentoring young kids, etc. The black community in Portland is very small, and it was really touching to see the fierce closeness of the people surrounding Alisha. At least one of her mentors has attended every major event in her life -- high school graduation, college graduation, med school graduation, and now residency completion. I hope to go to more of those events in the future.
Afterward I discovered I had a flat tire, so I gently drove the car to the nearest gas station, pumped it full of air, raced home and baked a quick batch of chocolate chip cookies and headed to our friend Sarah and Michael's house (her son Noah was at his dad's) for dinner. We had a fine time drinking hard cider and eating dinner and my cookies were a huge hit (sorry, Drew, that your cookie baking superiority is being challenged).
This morning I woke up with a horrible headache that persisted throughout the day, leaving me nauseous, exhausted and grumpy. The tire had gone flat again, and during Rachel's haircut I called AAA, had them pump up the tire again, went to a tire store and was told that the tire is useless and I need a new one. I got us home on the spare tire, fed Rachel some lunch and plopped her in front of a movie while I took a 2 1/2 hour nap. Then we went out to dinner because I didn't have the energy to cook. What didn't get done today: picking up the computer I bought two weeks ago; getting a pedicure; grocery shopping; playing outside; cleaning the house. Guess I'll have to take care of all of it tomorrow.
Saturday, June 15, 2013
Kid's got me nailed...
Thursday on the way home from school, Rachel and I had this conversation:
Rachel: You're a great mom.
Me: What makes me a great mom?
Rachel: Because you try your hardest at stuff that isn't easy.
Can't get nothing past those blue eyes...
***
I went to the ballet tonight with my friend Melissa and her friend Marian -- it was the last performance in our yearly subscription series. Also a changing of the guard, of sorts -- two of our favorite dancers with the company are leaving for the Munich and Monaco ballet companies. So it was a bittersweet, if amazing, performance. All three works were by Balanchine and all were incredible.
And all helped me decompress from the hellish two-hour commute I had home from Salem. Why? Who knows? Who knows why traffic backs up in the highway when there are no accidents and no road construction? Who knows why I drive 2 1/2 to 3 hours every day on a stupid highway when I live in Portland for godsakes and should be biking everywhere?
I barely made it to preschool, then we raced home to meet Cori, the babysitter. I threw some food at them, hoped for the best, and was getting ready to leave when Rachel said, "Mommy! Go to your ballet! I want to play with Cori!"
I think it's charming that she thinks her babysitters are her playmates. It makes it easier to escape every once in a while.
Rachel: You're a great mom.
Me: What makes me a great mom?
Rachel: Because you try your hardest at stuff that isn't easy.
Can't get nothing past those blue eyes...
***
I went to the ballet tonight with my friend Melissa and her friend Marian -- it was the last performance in our yearly subscription series. Also a changing of the guard, of sorts -- two of our favorite dancers with the company are leaving for the Munich and Monaco ballet companies. So it was a bittersweet, if amazing, performance. All three works were by Balanchine and all were incredible.
And all helped me decompress from the hellish two-hour commute I had home from Salem. Why? Who knows? Who knows why traffic backs up in the highway when there are no accidents and no road construction? Who knows why I drive 2 1/2 to 3 hours every day on a stupid highway when I live in Portland for godsakes and should be biking everywhere?
I barely made it to preschool, then we raced home to meet Cori, the babysitter. I threw some food at them, hoped for the best, and was getting ready to leave when Rachel said, "Mommy! Go to your ballet! I want to play with Cori!"
I think it's charming that she thinks her babysitters are her playmates. It makes it easier to escape every once in a while.
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
Tummy issues, Part 2
For the past two nights Rachel has complained that her tummy -- inside, not outside -- feels "hot." Tonight at dinner, after a cheerful start, she suddenly got melancholy, complaining about her tummy, her sore legs, having a headache, etc. "It feels like I have all these voices talking to me," she said, and if I didn't know better I'd assume the worst. I think it's just the stress we're both feeling, and unfortunately there's not a damn thing I can do about it right now.
So, I took her into my lap at the dinner table and started telling her stories about the summer vacations Mom and Dad took us on in Cape Cod. I told Rachel about the swan boats in Boston, the Sheraton with the retractable roof (only now do I understand the importance of the indoor pool on vacations where kids are around), the cottages we used to rent, Grandpa's excellent lobster and steamed clams, digging for clams in the sand, doing arts and crafts in that building near the tennis courts while Grandma and Grandpa played tennis, and Grandpa building a fire in the fireplace while Grandma read Greek myths aloud by the fire. ("What myths?" Rachel said, and I told her a two-sentence of Jason and the Golden Fleece -- "he was a big hero with a boat called the Argonaut and he killed a lot of monsters on the journey. Then he met a beautiful woman named Medea and married her." "And what happened?" "Well, he met another woman after Medea and left her." "What happened then?" "It's so awful I don't want to tell you." "Tell me!" "Well, she killed their children." "How?" "She poisoned them." "Why did she do that?" "Because she was very angry at Jason.").
Mom and Dad, I know that those vacations were a lot of work for both of you (well, mostly for Mom), but I tell you -- they left me with fantastic memories that I'm so happy to be able to share with Rachel. I told her we'd take her to Cape Cod someday, and I intend to make good on that promise.
***
"Mommy, you're stupendous!" Rachel said this morning as I was rushing to get us out the door and make a 10 a.m. meeting in Salem. "But that doesn't mean you should be late for your meeting. Now hurry up and get dressed!"
Later, when I tried to hug her goodbye at preschool, she said, "Go! Go to your meeting!"
I guess that means she won't put up with any crying when I say goodbye to her at college in...gasp....only 14 years!!!
So, I took her into my lap at the dinner table and started telling her stories about the summer vacations Mom and Dad took us on in Cape Cod. I told Rachel about the swan boats in Boston, the Sheraton with the retractable roof (only now do I understand the importance of the indoor pool on vacations where kids are around), the cottages we used to rent, Grandpa's excellent lobster and steamed clams, digging for clams in the sand, doing arts and crafts in that building near the tennis courts while Grandma and Grandpa played tennis, and Grandpa building a fire in the fireplace while Grandma read Greek myths aloud by the fire. ("What myths?" Rachel said, and I told her a two-sentence of Jason and the Golden Fleece -- "he was a big hero with a boat called the Argonaut and he killed a lot of monsters on the journey. Then he met a beautiful woman named Medea and married her." "And what happened?" "Well, he met another woman after Medea and left her." "What happened then?" "It's so awful I don't want to tell you." "Tell me!" "Well, she killed their children." "How?" "She poisoned them." "Why did she do that?" "Because she was very angry at Jason.").
Mom and Dad, I know that those vacations were a lot of work for both of you (well, mostly for Mom), but I tell you -- they left me with fantastic memories that I'm so happy to be able to share with Rachel. I told her we'd take her to Cape Cod someday, and I intend to make good on that promise.
***
"Mommy, you're stupendous!" Rachel said this morning as I was rushing to get us out the door and make a 10 a.m. meeting in Salem. "But that doesn't mean you should be late for your meeting. Now hurry up and get dressed!"
Later, when I tried to hug her goodbye at preschool, she said, "Go! Go to your meeting!"
I guess that means she won't put up with any crying when I say goodbye to her at college in...gasp....only 14 years!!!
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Father's Day!
Rachel and I spent tonight preparing cards for Daddy, PopPop and Grandpa. She decorated your cards with lovely, messy drawings, which we both hope you'll like.
She has been unusually affectionate the last couple of nights, probably because Mommy has been in a fairly calm mood and not prone to snappishness or moodiness. Of course, that could change by the end of the week when I do yet another big housecleaning, but hopefully I will have stored up enough goodwill so that she'll brush off my impatience and exasperation.
"You are the awesomest Mommy!" she said last night.
"What makes me so awesome?" I asked.
"Because," she answered. "You love me very much."
Ah, yes, that is true, and I'm so glad she sees me expressing it.
***
"What are you favorite flowers?" she asked me. Before I could answer, she said, "I know! A rose."
When I said I couldn't choose because I like so many, she said, "I love roses, I love marigolds, I love poppies..." maybe she'll turn into the gardener this family so desperately needs.
***
"After I put out the glasses, I'm going to go into my room and get my cell phone and TEXT!" Rachel said on the way home from school (one of her chores is setting the dinner table, and "glasses" refers to drink glasses).
"Why?" I asked.
"Because texting is awe-SOME!" she sang out.
The cell phone is a non-working smartphone she got from the folks at Verizon last night. My cell phone started bleeding ink onto the screen, which is a sure indication the screen is about to go black, so I went to the mall last night and ended up getting a free upgrade. The guys there were so charmed by her that they gave her a "toy" phone to play with after asking my permission first. I made sure they took out the battery so she couldn't accidentally call, say, Brussels.
***
"What does heaven look like?" Rachel asked at dinner.
"Nobody knows," I replied. "Some people don't believe in heaven."
"I think it looks like a play structure," she said. "People can climb on it and never get hurt, ever ever!"
She has been unusually affectionate the last couple of nights, probably because Mommy has been in a fairly calm mood and not prone to snappishness or moodiness. Of course, that could change by the end of the week when I do yet another big housecleaning, but hopefully I will have stored up enough goodwill so that she'll brush off my impatience and exasperation.
"You are the awesomest Mommy!" she said last night.
"What makes me so awesome?" I asked.
"Because," she answered. "You love me very much."
Ah, yes, that is true, and I'm so glad she sees me expressing it.
***
"What are you favorite flowers?" she asked me. Before I could answer, she said, "I know! A rose."
When I said I couldn't choose because I like so many, she said, "I love roses, I love marigolds, I love poppies..." maybe she'll turn into the gardener this family so desperately needs.
***
"After I put out the glasses, I'm going to go into my room and get my cell phone and TEXT!" Rachel said on the way home from school (one of her chores is setting the dinner table, and "glasses" refers to drink glasses).
"Why?" I asked.
"Because texting is awe-SOME!" she sang out.
The cell phone is a non-working smartphone she got from the folks at Verizon last night. My cell phone started bleeding ink onto the screen, which is a sure indication the screen is about to go black, so I went to the mall last night and ended up getting a free upgrade. The guys there were so charmed by her that they gave her a "toy" phone to play with after asking my permission first. I made sure they took out the battery so she couldn't accidentally call, say, Brussels.
***
"What does heaven look like?" Rachel asked at dinner.
"Nobody knows," I replied. "Some people don't believe in heaven."
"I think it looks like a play structure," she said. "People can climb on it and never get hurt, ever ever!"
Saturday, June 8, 2013
I love a parade...
We had a wonderful day at the Grand Floral Parade. The Grand Floral is the main event of the Rose Festival, which runs throughout the first part of June. Typically in Portland it rains on parade day, which is why Drew and I usually don't go. But the weather promised to be warm and sunny and I was determined to go with Rachel, even if it meant skipping ballet and braving the crowds. (The last time we all went together, Rachel wasn't even 3 and was still in her stroller!).
I needn't have worried about logistics -- Jeff, Erica's husband, works downtown at Standard Insurance so we all piled into his car and he parked in his usual parking spot. We walked two blocks with portable chairs, sunscreen, snacks, etc. and found two empty spots on the sidewalk, set the chairs down and waited. And waited...the parade took about 45 minutes to get to where we were at SW 6th and Taylor, so I handed out homemade strawberry bread, read a bit of "Charlotte's Web" to Rachel (she has become obsessed with the book, and after it's done I suppose we'll move on to "Stuart Little" and "The Trumpet of the Swan").
Then came the parade -- float after float, all bedecked with flowers, and marching band after marching band. I guess the Rose Parade in Pasadena is probably more impressive, as is the Macy's Day parade at Thanksgiving, but I've always thought the Grand Floral was pretty special. I love any excuse for a parade, no matter how small, and the Grand Floral is pretty grand. It lasted two hours, long enough to hold all of our attention. Rachel's favorite part was "the princesses" (lots of pretty girls who were Rodeo Queens of this and Miss xx that, including the entire Rose Festival princess court) and the colorfully attired representatives of Oregon's sister cities in Asia. At one point Rachel stood up and pretended to be part of a marching band, marching stiffly with a serious face; she was really quite funny.
Afterward we all went to a place near Jeff and Erica's rental house in Southwest Portland (they're the folks who were displaced by Hurricane Sandy), and Rachel and Sunny horsed around while we waited a looong time for our food. Then it was a race back home so I could get ready for my "date night" with Russ, a colleague from work, and his partner Andy while Rachel was at St. James's monthly Parents Night Out event. I got all dressed up, at Russ's suggestion, but he and Andy dressed down so I looked out of place but I didn't care. Drank cocktails and wine, had a lovely dinner and Ruby Jewel ice cream for dessert (a terrific Portland-based ice cream shop) and picked Rachel up in time to see...the World's Largest Naked Bike Ride, which started from the Portland Art Museum across the street from preschool and had a police escort. The St. James folks insisted they didn't mean to schedule Parents Night Out the same night as the Naked Bike Ride. Let's just say there are some well-hung men out there and lots of women with tiny, droopy breasts. Luckily Rachel didn't notice any of it.
I needn't have worried about logistics -- Jeff, Erica's husband, works downtown at Standard Insurance so we all piled into his car and he parked in his usual parking spot. We walked two blocks with portable chairs, sunscreen, snacks, etc. and found two empty spots on the sidewalk, set the chairs down and waited. And waited...the parade took about 45 minutes to get to where we were at SW 6th and Taylor, so I handed out homemade strawberry bread, read a bit of "Charlotte's Web" to Rachel (she has become obsessed with the book, and after it's done I suppose we'll move on to "Stuart Little" and "The Trumpet of the Swan").
Then came the parade -- float after float, all bedecked with flowers, and marching band after marching band. I guess the Rose Parade in Pasadena is probably more impressive, as is the Macy's Day parade at Thanksgiving, but I've always thought the Grand Floral was pretty special. I love any excuse for a parade, no matter how small, and the Grand Floral is pretty grand. It lasted two hours, long enough to hold all of our attention. Rachel's favorite part was "the princesses" (lots of pretty girls who were Rodeo Queens of this and Miss xx that, including the entire Rose Festival princess court) and the colorfully attired representatives of Oregon's sister cities in Asia. At one point Rachel stood up and pretended to be part of a marching band, marching stiffly with a serious face; she was really quite funny.
Afterward we all went to a place near Jeff and Erica's rental house in Southwest Portland (they're the folks who were displaced by Hurricane Sandy), and Rachel and Sunny horsed around while we waited a looong time for our food. Then it was a race back home so I could get ready for my "date night" with Russ, a colleague from work, and his partner Andy while Rachel was at St. James's monthly Parents Night Out event. I got all dressed up, at Russ's suggestion, but he and Andy dressed down so I looked out of place but I didn't care. Drank cocktails and wine, had a lovely dinner and Ruby Jewel ice cream for dessert (a terrific Portland-based ice cream shop) and picked Rachel up in time to see...the World's Largest Naked Bike Ride, which started from the Portland Art Museum across the street from preschool and had a police escort. The St. James folks insisted they didn't mean to schedule Parents Night Out the same night as the Naked Bike Ride. Let's just say there are some well-hung men out there and lots of women with tiny, droopy breasts. Luckily Rachel didn't notice any of it.
Friday, June 7, 2013
Shabbat Shalom!
We received a very nice invitation to go to Rachel's friend Lila Anne's house for Shabbat dinner. Lila's mom, Suzanne, is a former colleague of mine from the Oregonian who now works at PSU; Lila's dad, Steve, is an architect who just got a job with the Portland Public School District. They have a younger daughter, Eva, who is 2.
I picked Rachel up from school and we headed straight over. The girls were adorable playing together; Rachel discovered a toy guitar and they pretended to be a rock group, specifically the "Rachel Song Group." Rachel was the singer, Lila said "I wanna dance!" at one point, and as far as we could tell, Eva played the role of...the toddling groupie.
We actually got to have lots of grownup conversation about the housing market (Steve and Suzanne are getting ready to put their house on the market and are looking at houses in Southeast near Lila Anne's kindergarten immersion program which starts in the fall), about living in the suburbs vs. the city, etc. At one point we all helped clean up the girls' bedroom because Eva had to go to sleep in her crib, and Rachel was upset that we might leave because she and Lila Anne were about to start playing a game called "travel." (It involved a tent and a fuzzy backpack). Just as they launched a pillow fight, Suzanne put in a video of "Calliou" and we resumed our conversation. We headed home at 9:30 (eek, but I was having such a great time talking amidst the flapping plastic at the windows -- they're having the house painted and the soft summer breeze kept hitting the plastic -- that I didn't want to leave). This is what I love so about Portland; we have a group of friends who like us enough to invite us over for dinner and with whom I can have long, involved conversations WHILE THE KIDS ARE OFF PLAYING SOMEWHERE AND I DON'T HAVE TO WATCH THEM EVERY SECOND. Yay!!
Tomorrow: Rose Festival parade! It's supposed to be sunny and warm, so it'll probably be packed. Pray that Rachel and I (and Erica and Sunny, who will go with us) survive.
I picked Rachel up from school and we headed straight over. The girls were adorable playing together; Rachel discovered a toy guitar and they pretended to be a rock group, specifically the "Rachel Song Group." Rachel was the singer, Lila said "I wanna dance!" at one point, and as far as we could tell, Eva played the role of...the toddling groupie.
We actually got to have lots of grownup conversation about the housing market (Steve and Suzanne are getting ready to put their house on the market and are looking at houses in Southeast near Lila Anne's kindergarten immersion program which starts in the fall), about living in the suburbs vs. the city, etc. At one point we all helped clean up the girls' bedroom because Eva had to go to sleep in her crib, and Rachel was upset that we might leave because she and Lila Anne were about to start playing a game called "travel." (It involved a tent and a fuzzy backpack). Just as they launched a pillow fight, Suzanne put in a video of "Calliou" and we resumed our conversation. We headed home at 9:30 (eek, but I was having such a great time talking amidst the flapping plastic at the windows -- they're having the house painted and the soft summer breeze kept hitting the plastic -- that I didn't want to leave). This is what I love so about Portland; we have a group of friends who like us enough to invite us over for dinner and with whom I can have long, involved conversations WHILE THE KIDS ARE OFF PLAYING SOMEWHERE AND I DON'T HAVE TO WATCH THEM EVERY SECOND. Yay!!
Tomorrow: Rose Festival parade! It's supposed to be sunny and warm, so it'll probably be packed. Pray that Rachel and I (and Erica and Sunny, who will go with us) survive.
Thursday, June 6, 2013
Mixed Day
This morning started on an upbeat note -- I decided to take a second sick day because my tummy still hurts (as it does now, while I'm writing this), with Rachel cracking me up. She put on a beautiful white and purple dress that I found in a bag up in the attic, a bag of summer clothes in just her size. "Oh, RACHEL!" I exclaimed when she put it on. She looked so pretty and grown-up. She loved the reaction and told it to all her teachers.
Randomly she said this: "And I have to tell you, Mommy. If you and Daddy get into a fight, you have to compromise. That's a word I learned from the Bearenstein Bears."
Also:
"Do you really need to get so big!" I asked her after first seeing her in the purple and white dress today.
"You got big once, so I need to get big, too," she replied. "Look! I'm up to your belly button!"
***
Rachel's latest obsession is the word "punim." Today on the way to school she suddenly started talking sternly and saying, "Wash your punim! It's very very important to wash your punim!" and then threatening me with dire consequences if I didn't so so. She sounded exactly like a Catskills comic, I started laughing.
***
Tonight I decided that the garden really needed work, plus I had to mop the kitchen floor (again) and clean the sink (again). Have decided I loathe gardening and housework, in that order. The gardening took 90 minutes; I hate our stupid push mower -- and Rachel did help with some of the weeding, but by the time we started dinner (at 8:15) I was completely exhausted. I took it out on poor Rachel by getting angry when she didn't eat her spaghetti properly. She could see that I was angry and upset and hot and frustrated, and she suddenly sobbed, "I hate seeing you unhappy."
That stopped me short. I apologized profusely, cleaned up the kitchen and read a chapter of "Charlotte's Web" before putting her to bed at 10:15. No kid should have to go to bed that late, but when I'm the only one around here doing all the work and holding our lives together, sh-- happens.
I do feel awful for my behavior, though. Rachel kept reassuring me that "you're an excellent Mommy," at one point stroking my arm reassuringly, and I kept wanting to tell her what a crappy job I'm doing, but I think, as I write this and I'm tearing up, I think I'll just accept her compliments and thank the universe that she's not old enough to understand that I'm doing a totally inadequate job of keeping it together. Please, readers, don't ever tell her that.
Randomly she said this: "And I have to tell you, Mommy. If you and Daddy get into a fight, you have to compromise. That's a word I learned from the Bearenstein Bears."
Also:
"Do you really need to get so big!" I asked her after first seeing her in the purple and white dress today.
"You got big once, so I need to get big, too," she replied. "Look! I'm up to your belly button!"
***
Rachel's latest obsession is the word "punim." Today on the way to school she suddenly started talking sternly and saying, "Wash your punim! It's very very important to wash your punim!" and then threatening me with dire consequences if I didn't so so. She sounded exactly like a Catskills comic, I started laughing.
***
Tonight I decided that the garden really needed work, plus I had to mop the kitchen floor (again) and clean the sink (again). Have decided I loathe gardening and housework, in that order. The gardening took 90 minutes; I hate our stupid push mower -- and Rachel did help with some of the weeding, but by the time we started dinner (at 8:15) I was completely exhausted. I took it out on poor Rachel by getting angry when she didn't eat her spaghetti properly. She could see that I was angry and upset and hot and frustrated, and she suddenly sobbed, "I hate seeing you unhappy."
That stopped me short. I apologized profusely, cleaned up the kitchen and read a chapter of "Charlotte's Web" before putting her to bed at 10:15. No kid should have to go to bed that late, but when I'm the only one around here doing all the work and holding our lives together, sh-- happens.
I do feel awful for my behavior, though. Rachel kept reassuring me that "you're an excellent Mommy," at one point stroking my arm reassuringly, and I kept wanting to tell her what a crappy job I'm doing, but I think, as I write this and I'm tearing up, I think I'll just accept her compliments and thank the universe that she's not old enough to understand that I'm doing a totally inadequate job of keeping it together. Please, readers, don't ever tell her that.
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
I definitely have what Rachel had
so, I took a sick day today (rare for me). I've managed to keep down a banana, two matzos, a slice of pizza and some chocolate sorbet. Tummy is still tender, but hopefully by tomorrow night I'll be over it. Ugh, I dislike being sick when I'm the only one taking care of Rachel and I can't play with her or be attentive to her needs the way I want to be. Nevertheless, she has remained incredibly upbeat and cheerful.
Tonight I was too wiped out to prepare dinner, so I tossed her bathing suit and a towel into the trunk and announced, when I picked her up from preschool, that it was so hot outside that we'd go to Hot Lips for pizza, then play in the fountain and Jamison Square and get ice cream at Cool Moon Ice Cream afterward. "Oh, MOMMY, THANK YOU!" she said rapturously. We were finishing up pizza when who walked in but her little friend Devin and Devin's dad, Jim (I had run into Devin's mom, Linda, this morning, and had hoped to see her and Devin tonight to hear about all the drama going on at her architecture firm, but only Jim appeared). Between keeping our eyes on the girls, Jim and I managed to have some snatches of conversation, and then we walked to the fountain. I felt so bad that I didn't have an extra suit for Devin (Linda had an extra suit for Rachel one time when we spontaneously met one weekend) and tried to communicate to Rachel that if she stayed in the fountain for a long time, Devin would feel left out and it would be really fun for us all to get ice cream together. So...we got our ice cream and my chocolate sorbet and then left for home. It was a really nice evening.
***
Rachel is really getting into "Charlotte's Web." Last night when I was feeling terrible and offered to read her four books because I wasn't up to watching her bike ride, she picked out my favorite books, not hers. One of them was Charlotte's Web, and she was hooked. Tonight we read the chapter where Wilbur is terribly lonely and discouraged by the ran one day because he's positive Fern won't come to visit him.
"He shouldn't give up!" Rachel said resolutely. "Fern may come after all."
***
This morning Rachel was talking about her early birthday celebration (a party on June 29th) and all the presents she hoped to get. They are technology-based -- she really wants a MobyGo and some version of an iPod, which made me sad that she's more into technology these days than books.
Or so I thought. Cuddling up against me in bed, she announced: "What I'd really like is my own library card!"
"Really?!?" I said delightedly.
"Yeah!" she said. "So I can check out my own books, like a big girl!"
Tonight I was too wiped out to prepare dinner, so I tossed her bathing suit and a towel into the trunk and announced, when I picked her up from preschool, that it was so hot outside that we'd go to Hot Lips for pizza, then play in the fountain and Jamison Square and get ice cream at Cool Moon Ice Cream afterward. "Oh, MOMMY, THANK YOU!" she said rapturously. We were finishing up pizza when who walked in but her little friend Devin and Devin's dad, Jim (I had run into Devin's mom, Linda, this morning, and had hoped to see her and Devin tonight to hear about all the drama going on at her architecture firm, but only Jim appeared). Between keeping our eyes on the girls, Jim and I managed to have some snatches of conversation, and then we walked to the fountain. I felt so bad that I didn't have an extra suit for Devin (Linda had an extra suit for Rachel one time when we spontaneously met one weekend) and tried to communicate to Rachel that if she stayed in the fountain for a long time, Devin would feel left out and it would be really fun for us all to get ice cream together. So...we got our ice cream and my chocolate sorbet and then left for home. It was a really nice evening.
***
Rachel is really getting into "Charlotte's Web." Last night when I was feeling terrible and offered to read her four books because I wasn't up to watching her bike ride, she picked out my favorite books, not hers. One of them was Charlotte's Web, and she was hooked. Tonight we read the chapter where Wilbur is terribly lonely and discouraged by the ran one day because he's positive Fern won't come to visit him.
"He shouldn't give up!" Rachel said resolutely. "Fern may come after all."
***
This morning Rachel was talking about her early birthday celebration (a party on June 29th) and all the presents she hoped to get. They are technology-based -- she really wants a MobyGo and some version of an iPod, which made me sad that she's more into technology these days than books.
Or so I thought. Cuddling up against me in bed, she announced: "What I'd really like is my own library card!"
"Really?!?" I said delightedly.
"Yeah!" she said. "So I can check out my own books, like a big girl!"
Sunday, June 2, 2013
I think I have what Rachel had
..the tummy ache part. Hard to get through work today, but I still managed a swim at the completely crappy Y down the street -- Willamette's pool is closed for the summer for renovations -- and managed to get down half a cup of chicken broth for lunch, that was it.
During dinner I was so tired that I did something I've never done before when I'm alone with Rachel: excused myself to go lie down. I slept for about 20 minutes. When I came back in, she had demolished her chicken and pasta and had timidly come into the bedroom and asked for cheese and salami. And dessert. Guess her appetite has returned along with her health.
Rachel was unusually gentle and sweet with me tonight. She complimented me several times on what a good mommy I am. "What makes me a good mommy?" I asked.
"Because you take such good care of me," she said.
I, in turn, complimented her on finishing her dinner like a big girl, without me nagging her, and she said, "See? That's why you're a good mommy."
Someday she will realize what a deeply flawed human being I am, but for now -- I really like this hero worship thing she's got going.
During dinner I was so tired that I did something I've never done before when I'm alone with Rachel: excused myself to go lie down. I slept for about 20 minutes. When I came back in, she had demolished her chicken and pasta and had timidly come into the bedroom and asked for cheese and salami. And dessert. Guess her appetite has returned along with her health.
Rachel was unusually gentle and sweet with me tonight. She complimented me several times on what a good mommy I am. "What makes me a good mommy?" I asked.
"Because you take such good care of me," she said.
I, in turn, complimented her on finishing her dinner like a big girl, without me nagging her, and she said, "See? That's why you're a good mommy."
Someday she will realize what a deeply flawed human being I am, but for now -- I really like this hero worship thing she's got going.
Stress overload
A big thank you to Linda and Doug, for graciously watching my daughter while I took a picnic blanket into their backyard after arriving for a cookout, and sacked out for a couple of hours. Actually, "sacked out" doesn't really describe it; I spent part of the time sleeping and other parts of the time thinking -- about the past, the future, mistakes I make in my newspaper career and in other parts of my life, etc. It was a warm, sunny day, which prevented me from getting too depressed.
I've been battling stomach problems today, and they got worse as the day progressed. We left Doug and Linda's around 6:30 or so, and I didn't have enough energy to go grocery shopping tonight, which I'd planned to do. So we went to a local restaurant, and all of a sudden it just hit me -- my body felt as if it was truly about to collapse. My skin and muscles hurt, I have a headache, it feels as if I've been hit by chains, or worse. All I want to do is crawl into bed and not come out for three days.
I'm going to watch "Mad Men," then go to sleep and drag myself down to Salem tomorrow, since I was out two days last week, but if this persists then I'm taking Tuesday off. It's the weirdest feeling, like I felt right after Drew got back from Columbia and I got a cold, a food allergy, muscle aches, etc. -- as if my body had finally given itself permission to fall apart.
Trouble is, I haven't given it permission quite yet.
***
"I love you," I told Rachel over dinner tonight.
"I love you too," she replied, "except when you're sad."
"Why?" I asked.
"Because I don't like it when you're sad," she answered.
She so wants to take care of me, and I need to tell her that I'm the one who should be taking care of her, because that's what mommies do, but it doesn't seem to be getting through.
I've been battling stomach problems today, and they got worse as the day progressed. We left Doug and Linda's around 6:30 or so, and I didn't have enough energy to go grocery shopping tonight, which I'd planned to do. So we went to a local restaurant, and all of a sudden it just hit me -- my body felt as if it was truly about to collapse. My skin and muscles hurt, I have a headache, it feels as if I've been hit by chains, or worse. All I want to do is crawl into bed and not come out for three days.
I'm going to watch "Mad Men," then go to sleep and drag myself down to Salem tomorrow, since I was out two days last week, but if this persists then I'm taking Tuesday off. It's the weirdest feeling, like I felt right after Drew got back from Columbia and I got a cold, a food allergy, muscle aches, etc. -- as if my body had finally given itself permission to fall apart.
Trouble is, I haven't given it permission quite yet.
***
"I love you," I told Rachel over dinner tonight.
"I love you too," she replied, "except when you're sad."
"Why?" I asked.
"Because I don't like it when you're sad," she answered.
She so wants to take care of me, and I need to tell her that I'm the one who should be taking care of her, because that's what mommies do, but it doesn't seem to be getting through.
Star Wars
So, I guess it's inevitable after sending Rachel to preschool: the kid has become obsessed with the Star Wars trilogy. (I'm talking, of course, of Episodes 4, 5 and 6. Episodes 1, 2 and 3 we do not speak of). She spent the entire day demanding that I tell her the entire story, explaining the characters, why they do what they do, etc. This lasted until I finished at dinnertime, after which she said, "But what does the story MEAN?"
"You mean, what does the story really say?" I asked.
"Yeah," she answered.
"Well," I said. "It's really about the fight between good and evil."
"Good always wins," she said confidently.
"Not always," I said. "Sometimes, evil wins."
I got her all revved up to watch the movie with me, relieved that finally we would be able to watch something good together instead of yet another round of My Little Pony or Barbie/Princess/Whatever/Swan Lake/Giselle/Insert ballet of choice here...until, an hour after putting her to bed at the insanely early (for us) hour of 9:15, she awoke to go to the bathroom and informed me she had a bad dream.
"What was it about?" I said crossly, since I was trying to rest myself and also trying not to think about everything I had to do before we head to Doug and Linda's for a cookout tomorrow.
She dreamed that she had died and Darth Vader had cut her body up. (Her imagination had been particularly captured by the image of Darth Vader cutting off Luke Skywalker's arm in "The Empire Strikes Back"). She begged me to tell her if the story was true in any way, and I said of course not, it was a fake story, it wasn't even BASED on anything real (which, really, is not true; George Lucas borrowed the plot points from Greek mythology and everywhere else). That seemed to reassure her, and she is sleeping as I write this...after promising not to wake me up tomorrow and to read books in her room before I get up.
"You mean, what does the story really say?" I asked.
"Yeah," she answered.
"Well," I said. "It's really about the fight between good and evil."
"Good always wins," she said confidently.
"Not always," I said. "Sometimes, evil wins."
I got her all revved up to watch the movie with me, relieved that finally we would be able to watch something good together instead of yet another round of My Little Pony or Barbie/Princess/Whatever/Swan Lake/Giselle/Insert ballet of choice here...until, an hour after putting her to bed at the insanely early (for us) hour of 9:15, she awoke to go to the bathroom and informed me she had a bad dream.
"What was it about?" I said crossly, since I was trying to rest myself and also trying not to think about everything I had to do before we head to Doug and Linda's for a cookout tomorrow.
She dreamed that she had died and Darth Vader had cut her body up. (Her imagination had been particularly captured by the image of Darth Vader cutting off Luke Skywalker's arm in "The Empire Strikes Back"). She begged me to tell her if the story was true in any way, and I said of course not, it was a fake story, it wasn't even BASED on anything real (which, really, is not true; George Lucas borrowed the plot points from Greek mythology and everywhere else). That seemed to reassure her, and she is sleeping as I write this...after promising not to wake me up tomorrow and to read books in her room before I get up.
Oaks Park!
I guess the way that we truly know it's summer here in Oregon is the first trip to Oaks Park, the great little old-fashioned amusement park in Southeast Portland that we visited a couple times last year. We had an incredibly wonderful day there with Rachel's little friend Sunny and Sunny's parents, Erica and Jeff, the Hurricane Sandy refugees from Long Island who have relocated here -- the ones I met on the way in to a "Jewish Night at the Museum" event about three months ago and have since become fast friends with.
Actually, we started the day on a good note; I finally got rid of all the #@!* boxes full of old baby clothes that we had stuffed in the attic crawl space. Some of the clothes I've given away and a bunch of them I've sold to a consignment store near our house -- the last batch this morning -- and I got just enough in sale credit to buy Rachel's summer wardrobe. What a relief, since the temps are supposed to climb into the high 70s/low 80s next week. Which, incidentally, is why I dragged Rachel out of the house yesterday to get a manicure/pedicure with Mommy, because my feet are absolutely disgusting when I wear sandals and so that's why I tend to get pedicures when it's warm, so I don't have to spend hundreds of dollars buying closed toe old lady shoes and pair them with unflattering looking pantyhose. See why turning old is such a drag?
Rachel was very patient at the manicurist until the very end when she said softly, "I wish I could get my nails done," and I said "sure, honey," and she picked out glittery blue polish for the right hand and yellow polish for the left (and yes, Dad, I remember when Maria Tetens and I tried on blue eyeshadow and you called us the Blue Eyed Monsters and Maria NEVER forgot that, she still reminds me occasionally, it left a big impression on her. You would definitely not have approved of me letting Rachel, who is not even 5 yet, wear nail polish, but honestly? She looked pretty good when it was done). The polish had completely come off her right index finger by the time she got to ballet this morning, but she didn't seem to care.
Anyway...after ballet we headed to Oaks Park and had the time of our lives. Really. Rachel's tummy is apparently completely recovered enough to eat hot dogs and lemonade and blue-tinged cotton candy, and I was so happy that we were both out of the house in the beautiful sunshine that I said, what the hell. We went on kiddie ride after kiddie ride, and in between I got to have snatches of conversation with Erica and Jeff, and we had been there for five hours when both of them left and Rachel decided that she wanted to try the kiddie roller coaster. Hey Mom and Dad, remember how I used to love scaring you to death by going on all those scary rides at Great Adventure and Disney World? You are getting your revenge now because I.Can't.Do.That.Any.More. I can't even stand mild twirly rides like the Tilt-a-Whirl. The Ferris Wheel makes my tummy drop. The Ferris Wheel! What has happened to me?!?! Oh, yeah, I'm 46.
Aside from a nasty fall she took while she was running too fast, Rachel had a pretty great time. We had to have a couple of cuddle sessions -- at one point she said, "I'm really stressed out!" but generally it was a terrific way to spend the afternoon. We wrapped it up with a burger and hot dog at Skyline Burgers, a great burger join near our house, and when we got home Rachel went very cooperatively to bed after we read the Greek myth about the origin of Hermes.
Oh, and she said "please" and especially "thank you" to every ride operator and waitress who helped us today. I tell ya, when we both are in a good mood, we make a great team.
Actually, we started the day on a good note; I finally got rid of all the #@!* boxes full of old baby clothes that we had stuffed in the attic crawl space. Some of the clothes I've given away and a bunch of them I've sold to a consignment store near our house -- the last batch this morning -- and I got just enough in sale credit to buy Rachel's summer wardrobe. What a relief, since the temps are supposed to climb into the high 70s/low 80s next week. Which, incidentally, is why I dragged Rachel out of the house yesterday to get a manicure/pedicure with Mommy, because my feet are absolutely disgusting when I wear sandals and so that's why I tend to get pedicures when it's warm, so I don't have to spend hundreds of dollars buying closed toe old lady shoes and pair them with unflattering looking pantyhose. See why turning old is such a drag?
Rachel was very patient at the manicurist until the very end when she said softly, "I wish I could get my nails done," and I said "sure, honey," and she picked out glittery blue polish for the right hand and yellow polish for the left (and yes, Dad, I remember when Maria Tetens and I tried on blue eyeshadow and you called us the Blue Eyed Monsters and Maria NEVER forgot that, she still reminds me occasionally, it left a big impression on her. You would definitely not have approved of me letting Rachel, who is not even 5 yet, wear nail polish, but honestly? She looked pretty good when it was done). The polish had completely come off her right index finger by the time she got to ballet this morning, but she didn't seem to care.
Anyway...after ballet we headed to Oaks Park and had the time of our lives. Really. Rachel's tummy is apparently completely recovered enough to eat hot dogs and lemonade and blue-tinged cotton candy, and I was so happy that we were both out of the house in the beautiful sunshine that I said, what the hell. We went on kiddie ride after kiddie ride, and in between I got to have snatches of conversation with Erica and Jeff, and we had been there for five hours when both of them left and Rachel decided that she wanted to try the kiddie roller coaster. Hey Mom and Dad, remember how I used to love scaring you to death by going on all those scary rides at Great Adventure and Disney World? You are getting your revenge now because I.Can't.Do.That.Any.More. I can't even stand mild twirly rides like the Tilt-a-Whirl. The Ferris Wheel makes my tummy drop. The Ferris Wheel! What has happened to me?!?! Oh, yeah, I'm 46.
Aside from a nasty fall she took while she was running too fast, Rachel had a pretty great time. We had to have a couple of cuddle sessions -- at one point she said, "I'm really stressed out!" but generally it was a terrific way to spend the afternoon. We wrapped it up with a burger and hot dog at Skyline Burgers, a great burger join near our house, and when we got home Rachel went very cooperatively to bed after we read the Greek myth about the origin of Hermes.
Oh, and she said "please" and especially "thank you" to every ride operator and waitress who helped us today. I tell ya, when we both are in a good mood, we make a great team.
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