Rachel and Mommy write a book!

After school today, Ivy was visiting with her grandma, who is here for 13 days, and Rachel needed to fill out a form for Girl Scout camp (she was required to do it all by herself), and afterward she decided that she and I needed to write a book. We read a couple of books the other day about Sam the Library Mouse who wrote little books of his own, so Rachel was inspired and before I could stop her she cut out a couple of squares of paper, had me staple them and then told me to do the writing and the drawings.

Uh-uh, I told her. I'LL do the writing and YOU do the drawings. She said OK, as long as I made up the story. She only gave me the title: "Squeak!"

So I made up a story about Squeak the Mouse (a female, at Rachel's insistence) and how she was very clever and adventurous, and decided to take a car trip across the country, but the car broke down, and she decided to walk, and she saw mountains and oceans and schools and houses and flowers and trees, but when she saw schools and other mice there, she got lonely and decided to stop. She made friends with two mice, Crumb and Cheesy, and even though she was happy to settle down she soon decided to go on another adventure. So she packed a bag -- only this time, she took her friends with her.

Rachel was so delighted with the story! She insisted on sitting on my laps and did truly excellent drawings to accompany the 12-page text. She wants to bring it into school tomorrow and have Mrs. Kappert read it to the class. I told her to be careful not to lose it because I intend to keep it FOREVER. Our names are on it: by Lisa Grace Lednicer and Rachel Drury DeSilver.

We spent so much time on the book that poor Drew had to make salad and set the table and we ate after 8 p.m., but I didn't care -- it was so worth it. Moments like that must be seized and remembered.

All Rachel all day

Today I spent several hours doing Rachel-related activities. In the morning I helped the kids in her class do an art project involving Chinese art, initiated by the school's artist-in-residence (yes, McKinley has one of those; I was stunned) and I gave a little talk beforehand about what it is that Mommy does for a living. I said I was a writer and editor and held up a copy of The Post. I was gratified that a few kids recognized it instantly and grinned.

Then I launched into some of the nuttier stories I've done, like the one about the college professor who lived under a stairwell on campus.
Rachel raised her hand.
"Why haven't you told me any of these stories?" she demanded.
"Because you never asked," I replied.
She gave me That Look, so I'm sure we'll be discussing my newspaper career sometime soon.

Afterward I raced to the pool and made calls all afternoons on various stories I'm working on. Then I brought drinks to Rachel's Daisy Scouts meeting tonight, at which a policeman and policewoman talked about authority figures and the work they do. Rachel asked several really intelligent questions, including, "Do you use DNA? I learned about DNA in a book." The officers seemed totally nonplussed by her question. She also told them that "My mom hired someone to clean the house and they were robbers and took her jewelry." (I buried my face in my hands at that one; it was a sore reminder of what happened as I was getting our house in Portland ready for sale).

Then we stopped by my neighbor Carol's house. Carol is the single mom, now-retired FBI agent who is moving to Chicago this weekend to have a simpler, saner life. She is incredibly friendly, Rachel loves her 3-year-old daughter Lina and I will sorely miss her wisdom. We stayed quite late, until almost 9 (Rachel had had dinner at her Scouts meeting) and I said goodbye after Carol invited us multiple times to visit Chicago and stay with her. And, heck, I just may do that.

She says the darndest things

We were discussing at dinner tonight whether I should buy an iPad. I go back and forth on this; everyone in the world seems to have one, and it would be great to read multiple magazines and newspapers without the physical clutter of said newspapers and magazines. On the other hand, I don't know where I'd use it -- not at home, since I work on a laptop, and not on the Metro, since I've discovered to my dismay that I get carsick when I try to read on the train. (Not, however, on the Amtrak to NYC, probably because it's a much smoother ride than the lurching Metro).

IPads are lousy for document creation and emailing, which I use my computer and smartphone for, and I'm not really into computer games, so....probably won't drop $500 on what essentially would be an expensive toy. I may end up changing my mind, though, since the future of news is on tablets and I may have to get one just to keep up.

Listening to all of this, Rachel suddenly announced that: "I only use electronics to learn things." Meaning, she's not into computer games. She reminded us that when she has her choice of things to do in class, she'll always gravitate toward books (along with her friends Libby and Simone). "I love books, I love reading," she added. She also reminded us that she likes watching movies (as she did today, for about four hours with Ivy while I made them popcorn and hot chocolate and then worked upstairs) but not all the time.

"We love reading, too!" I reminded her.

I was so impressed with her non-love of computer games and iPads and all the other electronic sh-- that is messing kids up these days that I asked her to come over to my side of the table and said, "You are everything I had hoped for in a daughter."

"Thanks, Mom," she said with a smile and returned to her seat.

Relaxing Saturday

Great day today. Had a nice, relaxing brunch with Ruth this morning while Drew took Rachel to all her activities. Rachel was named the scrimmage captain for her tee ball team today because, her coach said, she worked really hard yesterday. Go, Rachel! Now on to Spring Training!

Took a nap when I got home and Ruth headed to Dan's and Beryle's. Then I baked cookies for a potluck we were invited to tonight in Arlington of some Knight-Wallace fellows who have settled in D.C. We brought Rachel with us, because we were told it was for families, but there turned out to be only one kid there -- and 18-month-old named Micah. Rachel was pretty good-natured, and after she ate some dinner the hostess, Carol (who has two grown boys) settled her in front of the TV in another room and Rachel ended up watching...snowboarding. Half-pipe, to be exact.

It was a marvelous evening. The food was fantastic and the wine -- a wonderful Malbec -- left me feeling buzzed and giggly. Such an interesting group; one fellow, in town to meet with his editor at National Geographic Magazine, is writing a book on a 14-year-old kid who produced cold fusion. Carol is about to take a job with Voice of America. Another fellow works for Education Week. It was great sitting around and reminiscing about Ann Arbor, the trips we took on the fellowship (most folks were from the fellowship class of 2009/10 and went to Russia, Brazil, etc.) and what we're all working on now. Just the kind of conversations about creative work that I've been missing during the last several years in Oregon.

Parent-teacher conference

Well, we were finally able to have one with Mrs. Kappert, Rachel's teacher. This was the twice-rescheduled conference because of snow. "Fortunately I have all good things to say about Rachel," her teacher said, and the news was, indeed, good: Rachel is reading ahead of grade level, spelling some 1st and 2nd grade words (Mrs. Kappert is doing this to challenge Rachel); in math she has a good grasp of numbers and grasps new concepts quickly, she's socially well-adjusted and -- key for me -- she's very inquisitive. Mrs. Kappert says she raises her hand in class a lot; she likes to give the answers but she also asks questions. "She's adjusting very well to kindergarten," Mrs. Kappert said.

We asked her about a summer enrichment program that is being offered for the month of July; it meets from 9:15 to 1:15 p.m., with after-care afterward, and it's for kids who are strong academically. They need a teacher's recommendation to get in, and Mrs. Kappert said she'd be happy to write a recommendation for Rachel. So, we'll do it if we can move around her camp schedule (including Girl Scout sleep-away camp, which she may be able to do in August). It'll be a busy summer!

Also today, Ruth is in town and we had a terrific time at dinner, just talking about stuff going on in our lives, our parents, etc. -- all the things we never seem to have time to talk about when we're on the phone. I made roast chicken, potatoes, salad and a chocolate silk pie, and all turned out unexpectedly well, considering that my mind was in a million different places between story deadlines, our schedules in the next couple of weeks, etc. Hopefully I will have time next week to take one or two days for myself -- one to run errands; another to do some much-needed pampering! I really need it.

More scheduling

Actual conversation with my daughter this morning:

"Let's have lunch some day next week. What day works for you? Any day works for me except Friday."
"Why not Friday?" I asked.
"Because I have business in the morning," she said.
"What kind of business?" I asked.
"Kid business," she said, "that I'm not allowed to tell you.

Lunch with my daughter

Today was the third time Rachel has invited me to have lunch with her at school. She asks two of her little friends to sit with us (usually Libby and Adelaide), and we all talk. Today I ended up moderating a version of "Rock, paper, scissors" between Rachel and Adelaide, and then as Rachel stood up to head back to class she said, "Tonight we can discuss the next time you'll meet me for lunch." As a friend of mine who's a reporter in D.C. says: "That kid cracks me up! Next thing you know, she'll have a press secretary handle you."

Tonight at dinner Drew said to Rachel, "I love you, funny girl!"
Her reply: "I love you, silly Daddy!"

It seems the bullying is dying down a little?? Rachel said she ate her snacks so fast today that when the mean boys asked her if she had any, she said she'd finished them. And then, she told us, they tried to scare her by saying, "BOO!" except that she did the same thing to them and, according to Rachel, scared the daylights out of them. We'll see...

Snow. Again. Agghh...

PopPop and Mammaw, I know you keep telling us that all this snow we're getting is really not normal, but I'm beginning to doubt it.:) Today is the NINTH -- the NINTH -- day of school Rachel has missed since the start of the school year. It was also the day of our rescheduled parent-teacher conference because we missed the last one because of...wait for it...SNOW.

Pew Research opened two hours late, but that still left me with Rachel all day. Luckily I had handed in the last of my stories so I really didn't need to work. I kept asking her if she wanted to go out and build a snowman, but she just wanted to watch Barbie movies. So, we did -- three in a row. Epic Mommy fail, but I'm usually so busy freelancing that I don't feel like I do a very good job of being in the moment with Rachel, and I decided to let her do whatever she wanted. (To her credit, Drew gave her some pages to do in a math workbook he got her, and she is already adding double rows of numbers and mastering subtraction). I also have to say that I was secretly thrilled when Ivy's mom texted me and asked if Rachel wanted to play, and Rachel said to me, "No, I want to play with YOU all day, Mommy."

So, we watched Barbie movies, and played Go Fish and Mancala, and I made her a very late lunch and still managed to get a beef stew in the oven that we had for dinner tonight and Drew loved, so, in terms of productivity, I did manage to get a few things accomplished.

Purim!

Yesterday, Sunday, we took Rachel to a Purim carnival at the Reform synagogue near our house. That's when we realized what a huge deal Rodef Shalom is -- there were dozens and dozens and dozens of kids and dozens and dozens and dozens of games (plus hamentaschen that, frankly, could have a used a little more oomph in the taste department). Rachel won a couple of little trinkets for the kid games but got very upset when she didn't win a big one -- it was a version of musical chairs where you danced around in a circle and when the music stopped, you stopped on a number on the floor and if the number was chosen out of a bag, you got to choose a cake, a series of cupcakes or a box of doughnuts to take home. Rachel didn't win and she started crying and crying -- sometime we don't always realize she's still little.

Afterward we headed home and Rachel and I worked on cleaning out her room. I had woken up very early that morning, worried sick about her inability to swim and the fact that she isn't making any progress in swim lessons, and I had come downstairs to research possibilities for classes (Drew forgot to sign her up for gymnastics and swimming again, so now it's my problem. Sigh). As long as I was in the office I went ahead and wrote up a story I was assigned to write for an alumni magazine. The result: After the carnival I was exhausted, and Drew insisted that I take a nap. So I did, and after three hours of bizarro dreams, I awoke to Drew and Rachel coming home from grocery shopping. I made lamb and rice pilaf while Drew raced out to get more food (it's a problem with us, we need to go to three different grocery stores just to get the fairly simple stuff we need). Drew put Rachel to bed, I relaxed on the couch with the newspaper, and we settled in for a long night of SNOW.

Bullying, Part 2

Well, apparently the bullying has turned physical. Last night Rachel told us that the two 5th grade boys asked her for her snacks. She said no, and they punched her in the face and took the snacks anyway. The said the person in charge of after care gave her some ice and told the boys to leave Rachel alone.

I spent last night angry and upset and ready to cry, and Drew was absolutely furious. (At first Rachel told us the after-care people hadn't done anything, but it turned out they had). Nevertheless, Drew is going to have a talk with them on Monday (we're both scheduled to have a parent teacher conference with Rachel's teacher, which already has been cancelled twice because of weather, and we're expecting snow on Monday, and if it gets cancelled again I'm going to resign myself to not knowing anything about how my daughter's doing in school until, oh, July). And he's going to get the names of those punk-ass kids and call their parents, and I feel sorry for The Wrath of Drew that will fall upon them when he orders them to keep their crappy little shits away from our daughter.

(Sorry, I'm a little emotional about this).

Anyway...another thing I did last night was check out a synagogue that is a five-minute drive from our house. It's huge -- 1,500 families and 900 kids in religious school, apparently the largest religious school in the country. Rachel can start going to religious school on Sunday mornings, which we are seriously considering because when we mentioned it at dinner this week, she said, "Yay! Hebrew school! Yay! Hebrew school!" and I, for one, would really like to meet some Jewish families around here. We are going to a Purim carnival there tomorrow. Before I make a decision, though, I want to check out some other synagogues -- there's one in Fairfax and one in Alexandria. We will join one as soon as I get full- or part-time (steady) work, which, fingers crossed, will be sooner rather than later.

St. Patrick's Day

So, we had a pretty busy day today. Rachel had tee ball practice in the morning, her second practice so far, and LOVED IT. "I love tee-ball! I love tee-ball! I can't stop saying that I love tee-ball!" she exclaimed in the car on the way to gymnastics. "Does that annoy you?" she asked anxiously.

"Of course not, sweetie," I said. She then told me that, like yesterday, some of the boys in tee-ball were a bit clueless as to whether they should stay on base, or run. Rachel and her friend Libby are the only girls in tee-ball, and they, of course, were exemplary players.

The more I realize what girls are capable of, the more I wonder why boys end up running things.

It was at gymnastics that I realized that we missed the start of spring sign-up, and so of course the gymnastics and swimming offerings are all closed. I told Drew we need to get Rachel in private swim lessons anyway, since she is making virtually no progress in group lessons and I am determined to have her comfortable in the water by this summer, so that when we visit PopPop and Mammaw and use the pool at Grandma and Grandpa's place, she'll have a reasonable shot at not drowning.

Drew got home from running errands and then we all piled on the Metro to head to the National Zoo, because it was such a nice day (upper 60s), sunny and we are expected to get SNOW again on Monday and Tuesday (insert multiple expletives here). Parking at the Metro station is free, so it was a pleasant ride in, and then we wandered around the zoo for a while. We saw a cheetah asleep in the sun, an elephant or two and an oryx. Most of the indoor exhibits closed at 4:30, so we saw mostly birds at the end, but they ROCKED. Multiple flamingoes, whooping cranes, screeching birds -- it was really awesome and Rachel said, "this is the best family outing EVER!"

(I had insisted on taking a family outing because I'd spent the last two weekends working and I was determined not to repeat that this weekend!).

Afterward on the way to the Metro station we stopped at a little French/Italian restaurant that was absolutely charming. Rachel ordered pizza, Drew ordered mushroom-filled ravioli, and I had a bunch of appetizers -- French onion soup, arugula salad and mussels. We all split a crepe and dark chocolate mousse for dessert (YUM) and then got on the Metro to head back home.

It was St. Patrick's Day, of course, so on our way home we were treated to a bunch of loutish overgrown former frat boys and their dates. The boys tried to climb on the railings that people hold onto when the train is crowded and they have to stand. The rest of the time they kept up a steady stream of cursing and exclaiming out loud how drunk they were. Luckily they weren't mean drunks, just good-natured, and Rachel kept giggling at how ridiculous they were (at one point they started speaking drunk-laced Spanish). I kept laughing because Drew and I were so not like that when we were in our 20s. In fact, we joked with Rachel that we'd put her to bed and then we'd got out to a bar and drink beer and Irish coffee.

"That's not going to happen," she said calmly. "First, Mommy doesn't like coffee. Second, it's against the law for you to leave me alone."

Well, yes. Just when we couldn't stand it anymore, we reached the East Falls Church Metro station and got off, to a bunch of loud girls yelling. Drew announced that it was the most obnoxious train ride he's ever been on, including the years he's lived in Chicago, and I had to agree, although I was proud of him for not starting a fight. And, hey, it was good for Rachel's education. We both secured multiple promises from her that she would NEVER act that way when she grows up.

What Rachel does after Drew puts her to bed

Tonight after Drew told me about how Rachel was worried about the wrath of the universe coming down on the two bullying boys, I was inspired to go upstairs and give her a big hug and kiss.

When I opened the door, her night light was on (it's across the room from her bed) and she was SITTING UP IN BED, READING.

"RACHEL!" I exclaimed.

"I like to read because it helps me get to sleep," she explained. "Reading is my favorite thing to do. When we have our choice of stations, I always head for the books."

"Reading is my favorite thing to do, too, sweetie!" I exclaimed. I made her promise twice not to stay up too late, then I gave her a big hug and kiss and she seemed very happy I'd come all the way upstairs to do so.

As I closed the door and went downstairs, I thought: Wow. She really reminds me of myself when I was a kid.

***

Drew also told me that Rachel has begun doing the following after he reads from the current book they're reading together at night: If there's time, they cuddle. Afterward, she has started asking Drew to give her MATH PROBLEMS. Addition AND subtraction: What's 19 plus 7? Or 22 take away 3? She can usually figure them out, Drew says.

He says she has this weird system that he assumes they're teaching her at school -- 8 is a set of 5, plus 3 extra, and that helps her do the math without using her fingers. Last night she also wanted him to give her "questions" -- fill in the blank knowledge questions. He gives her fill in the blank knowledge questions about science: What are steam and ice both made out of? Things like that.

Looks like the science, math, art and reading parts of her brain are all developing nicely. Now we just have to work on sports and music....

Bullying

It seems that some bigger kids have begun bullying Rachel, although I'm not quite sure of what's going on. Tonight at dinner she told us that two 5th-grade boys approached her at after-care today and they told her if she doesn't bring snacks for them tomorrow, "there'll be trouble." She said she had given them some of her snack (extra snack that Drew had packed for her because she's growing so fast and needs more food) but it apparently wasn't enough.

Drew got very very angry at this -- both he and I were bullied as kids -- and he told her to report it to the staff members. Rachel said the head of the aftercare staff would call it "kid-sized problems," and that made Drew even angrier. He threatened to talk to the kids' parents, and if they STILL wouldn't stop bothered Rachel, he'd knock the kids' skulls together.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Rachel said calmly, and I told him to dial it down.

When he was putting her to bed, Rachel got a concerned look on her face.

"What's the matter, sweetie?" Drew asked.
"I'm worried about the bullies," she replied.
"Don't worry, Mommy and Daddy will take care of them," he said.
"Well, what can you do?" Rachel asked.
"Well, there's a lot we can do," Drew explained. "We can talk to the staff, we can talk to their parents. If I have to, I'll talk to them myself."

Rachel got a worried look on her face.
"What's the matter?" Drew asked again.
"I'm worried that you'll do too much to them, because kindness is always better," Rachel said.
"What do you mean, kindness is always better?" Drew said.
"Maybe they had a lot going on in their lives, like they have to do a lot of chores, or they're always in trouble or something," she said, "and I've had a very convenient life so far."

Drew was flabbergasted. Finally he said: "That all may be true, but even if they've had a lot of trouble in their life, it doesn't mean that they get to cause trouble in YOUR life.

"It's a lot to think about for a little girl, but we'll get it all sorted out," he said.

She just won't quit...

Years ago when Rachel was still a toddler, I tried to impress upon her the idea that quitting is a bad thing. She was trying, as I recall, to walk on a thin piece of metal a foot or so off the ground, a kind of balance beam that was part of a play structure, and was scared she wouldn't make it. I urged her to keep trying. "Don't QUIT!" I said sternly. "There are no quitters in this family! This is a no-quit family!"

(At the time I was probably thinking about my departure from The Oregonian, which I don't need to recount here).

She has alluded to our "no-quit" family once or twice since then, but not often. But today, as she was doing a difficult maneuver on the play structure at McKinley and I tried to help her, she said again: "No! I'm not going to quit! This is a no-quitter family!" (She ended up doing the maneuver correctly with a little help from Mommy).

She said the same thing again as she tried to climb a tree that was too small and clearly not meant to be climbed. I gently explained to her that sometimes it just isn't a good idea to do something and that if you decide not to do it, that isn't quitting.

She didn't seem convinced, alas. We later found a more suitable tree for her to climb, and when she tried to maneuver around the branches she actually got scared (she was wearing some sequined boots Drew got her and they were hard to fit between the branches), so she let me lift her down.

Magic reading place

For the past two days it has been very springlike here, and when I pick Rachel up from school she wants me to play with her on the McKinley playground. Yesterday it was difficult; I was in work clothes (I had gone into The Boston Globe's D.C. bureau to attend a weekly planning meeting and work on a story) and so I didn't want to clamber around in my work shoes and pants in the mud and dead branches (although my work shoes really need replacing, sigh). We settled on finding a tree stump half-hidden by surrounding trees, which we decided was an excellent place to read "The Magic Treehouse," a series that PopPop and Mammaw gave Rachel and is filled with GREAT stories.

It was so lovely sitting on the stump and reading to my daughter; I can see many summer days where we'll be doing the same thing, until she's old enough to read to herself.

Today I wore sneakers; she pointed at them and said, "Good!" We ended up doing an "obstacle course" on the play structure, playing hide-and-go seek, and she showed me all the cool things she can do on the monkey bars, etc. Playtime stretched until 7, when I insisted we go home.

On the way back we stopped at the neighborhood tree swing and met up with Ivy, Izzie and another little girl. Ivy suggested that Rachel not try the same way of swinging as the other girls because she's too little, but Rachel tried it anyway and succeeded -- I gave her a big wink, I was so proud -- and then the older girls proceeded to take a thick rope and (with Rachel's help) tied my legs together. Luckily the knot wasn't that tight. They had a great time over my protests.

Finally, to the background of a beautiful sunset, Rachel and I walked home together.

Why we think Rachel is one of a kind

Drew sometimes brings home treats from work that are left over from a meeting or presentation. Today it was a brownie that looked delicious. He put it on Rachel's plate for dessert.

"Any more?" I said hopefully.

"No, this was the last one, so I brought it home for my little girl," he said. "They went fast."

And then Rachel did the most extraordinary thing. She gave me a taste of the brownie (truthfully it wasn't very good), looked down at it sadly, took a deep breath and said, "This is very hard," and then WALKED IT OVER TO MY PLACE AND GAVE IT TO ME.

"NO!" I protested. "It's for you!"

She insisted on giving it to me, even when I told her I was too full from the steak Drew had grilled tonight (it was quite warm outside, so he fired up the grill) and the potatoes and salad I'd eaten. But she wouldn't hear of it, even when both of us insisted she eat it.

Drew finally suggested Rachel and I split the brownie, but even THAT didn't work. He and I agreed in the kitchen that we'd save the whole thing for her tomorrow.

When she went to bed tonight, I said: "Rachel, I am so proud of you. You have such a generous heart and a generous spirit."

"Thanks, Mom," she said gratefully, and then went up to bed.

Stomachaches

Lately Rachel has been complaining of stomachaches; they hit her at unexpected moments, like when she's playing at Ivy's house, or about to eat dinner, or when I pick her up from school. This weekend I sat her down at the dining room table after I insisted that she eat a late lunch/snack, and asked her carefully, "Is anything worrying you?" (kid's stomachaches are often a sign of stress).

"No," she answered, and I knew she was telling the truth.

"Are you upset about something?" I persisted.

"No," she said.

Last night she got a fearsome one while she was in the midst of EATING dinner. It got so bad that she lay down on the couch and started crying in pain. I lay down next to her, cuddled her in my arms and we both fell asleep. Drew finally carried her upstairs, read a book to her and put her to sleep.

He was browsing through the Dr. Spock book and saw that kid stomachaches can be a sign of them growing, which means they're hungry, which means we should be feeding Rachel more food. So this morning he packed an extra banana and yogurt pretzels for a late afternoon snack. She ate them up, along with her lunch, and she devoured half her steak and some challah for dessert. And no more complaints about stomachaches!

I felt like such an idiot for not realizing she needed more food.

How people react to Rachel

This past week was a crazy one -- two snow days (Monday and Tuesday snow related school closures because we got a LOT of snow), then two days at the end of the week where school was canceled because of parent/teacher conferences. So, the upshot was that Rachel attended exactly one day of school last week.

I'm starting to call snow days "Mandatory home-schooling days," the brilliant term that my friend Molly in Minnesota, a single mom of three kids for whom snow days and other school-related closures are a real problem, coined.

We signed Rachel up for one day of Lola's Lab, a very cool art camp that operates even when school is closed, for reasons that are mysterious to be but VERY WELCOME. Anyway, I was out of town Friday morning and Drew needed to get to work earlier than usual so he asked Lola (the artist mom who founded and operates the camp) if he could bring Rachel in to the Friday camp, too.

Her response:

HI Drew,
Thanks for sending us Rachel again, she is the BEST! We are totally crazy over her. She made me the most beautiful portrait on Tuesday too.

It's true, Rachel had drawn a portrait of Lola's head, which she was thrilled to receive.

***

Today, Sunday, Drew took Rachel to the farmer's market and to get donuts while I spent time preparing for a story I'm going to write this week.

Rachel charmed everyone at the farmer's market, skipping from one booth to the next, and people kept giving her samples of things, like jam on crackers and dips of honey. On the way back to the car, Drew asked her, "Were you charming everyone at the farmer's market?"

"Yeah," she replied nonchalantly. "It's my job."

What Rachel thinks of Daddy

Drew casually mentioned at dinner this past Friday night that he'd been interviewed by The Hill newspaper and El Pais (the largest newspaper in Spain) for a post he wrote for Pew about Congressional productivity. I told him how impressed I was.

Rachel's reaction? "You are so LUCKY!" she exclaimed. "I wish I could be YOU!"

Rachel the storyteller

Drew was away for a few days at a conference in Baltimore at the end of February/beginning of March. On the Friday he was gone, Rachel wanted me to tell her a story at dinner. No, I said. (I was tired and cranky). Please, she pleaded. NO, I said; how about I start a story, you add to it, then I add to it, etc. We started on that path, but then Rachel politely asked if she could stop and then proceeded to tell me a made-up story of her own.

What was most impressive was that she grabbed some "props" as she called them (knickknacks from around the living and dining rooms) and proceeded to tell me an incredible made-up tale. Here it is:

"Once upon a time there lived a cheetah named Emma. (holds up a wooden cheetah she had asked me to take out of a bookcase). One day she was strolling around and met her friend ZEBRA! (holds up a wooden zebra she'd taken from a bookcase in the living room). So Emma said, "Zebra, why are you here?" And zebra said, "I came to see if you would go with me to find a treasure!"

"By the way," Rachel told me. "Did I tell you the story was in Africa?"

She continued:

"Then they met their friend Camel. (holds up a wooden camel)."

"Oh," she said. "And the moral of the story is, teamwork is important."

She continued again:

"So she said, "Yes, of course, so they started strolling round and looking for treasure and they met their friends Camel. Emma said, "What are you doing? I thought you were supposed to be in a very different part of Africa where your owner is." But Camel said, "The owner fell off." So Emma said, "Well, do you wanna join the team to try and find your treasure?" And Zebra said, "Sure." So they set off. So as they strolled, they saw a pyramid (takes the pyramid from a bookcase in the living room)." They pyramid just popped up in front of them with two birds beside the sides (takes two ceramic birds from a bookcase in the living room.) "The birds said, "Can we work with  you?" and they said, "Of course you can!" So the birds flew around. Before they left they pushed the pyramid away and they finally saw the treasure. (takes a glass bird from a bookcase). "So they said, "HI. We were wondering if anyone had gone to hunt for the treasure." It was a beautiful crystal bird inside a little crystal cup (takes a set of Russian nesting girl dolls from the bookcase). For a minute all of them wished they were one of the little girls. Then the Zebra spoke. "That is very pretty of you," she said. Then the oldest tzedakah doll (Rachel calls them Tzedakah dolls instead of nesting dolls, for some reason) said, "We made them ourselves." "You did?" said one of the birds. "Yes!" squeaked one of the birds." "What did you help with?" asked Emma. "I helped pick out the design," she said in a squeaky voice. "They had made their way through all of Africa. "Can we lift the bird up?" said Emma. "Sure," the tzedakah doll said. "Then they noticed there's only five tzedakah dolls. The bird was still on. Emma lifted it up. "Peek a boo!" said the tezedakah dolls. Then all of the tzedakah dolls came out. Then Emma put the bird back on top. Then they turned back. "We better get back," they said. "So the tzedakah dolls said goodbye. And then they turned and walked back to their homes."

I was so impressed that I told Rachel, "You know, maybe YOU should be telling stories to 3 and 4-year-olds." She seemed very pleased at that suggestion.