Go 'Cats!

We took Rachel to a picnic this afternoon (before I went to work) hosted by the Northwestern Alumni Association. It was a welcome for entering students; Drew and I used to go to these all the time in Portland (including Rachel's first one when she was six weeks old and we looked like deer caught in the headlights.)

It's clear that the NAA is bigger and richer here: There was swag (keychains and cloth to wipe eyeglass lenses) and many, many alums. Plus the food was really good -- I filled up on lunch and we brought home a bunch of desserts that no one wanted (our contribution was Drew's fabulous homemade chocolate-chip cookies, only two of which were left by the end of the picnic).

Drew and I had a nice time talking to folks, including one woman who moved to D.C. from Dallas, Tex. without a job and ended up at the Pew Research Center; and our friend Tomoko Hosaka, with whom I worked years ago at the Oregonian before she began a storied career with the Associated Press in Japan before returning here, divorcing her husband, falling in love with a guy from Facebook, getting pregnant and then giving birth to an adorable baby named Kipling (yes, after Rudyard). They were at the picnic and Kipling was in a very cute NU onesie. Rachel was thrilled to see the baby and even got to hold him (with my help) and I thought, once again, what a wonderful big sister she'd be.

Drew and I played "cops and robbers" with Rachel on the play structure (love that she's not into princessy games) until we got tired, and then she asked me to spot her on a shaky part of the play structure. She tipped backwards suddenly, and, thinking she was playing around, I yelled, "Rachel! What are you DOING?" Then she fell forward and landed, hard, and cried. "I want a MOMMY CUDDLE!" she exclaimed, and then she stayed in my lap for a minute, demanded to see Drew, then came back to my lap and said she had tried to be brave, and just couldn't, and I could see she was frustrated. Before I could say anything, she said, "I want to be like YOU. You're brave."

I was so touched that I started tearing up and I looked her in the face and said seriously, "Rachel. You are the bravest kid I know." I repeated that a couple of times, then she got up from my lap and ran back to the picnic. I was so stunned to hear her say that. I hope she listens to me.

Then, as everyone was cleaning up, she grabbed a pompom and a balloon and raced around the picnic shelter hollering, "Go, 'Cats! Go 'Cats!" (NU's mascot is Willie the Wildcat). Turns out she had charmed the NAA officials; Rachel helpd them make up name tags, and one of them said to me, "Is that your daughter? She was so helpful! And her handwriting is so good! And her vocabulary!" She seemed to find it hard to believe that Rachel is only 6.