Happy Rosh Hashana!

Well, we had a great time in New York, even though Drew wasn't there. I have decided that a) Rachel is a wonderful traveling companion; when she needs to get going quickly, she does it without dawdling or complaining; and b) I love traveling alone with her. She was so fun to talk to and be with on the train; she read to herself; she read to me; we both took naps, and on the way back she kept pestering me to give her "hard word problems" and algebra problems.

We all (Drew included) took the Metro in to the District; Drew got off at work (he was heading to a conference in Chicago, which is why he didn't get to come to NYC with us) and Rachel and I got off at Metro Center and struggled to Union Station. We were aided by a very nice woman who insisted on dragging Rachel's suitcase (her backpack was filled with the approximately 3,498 books she has to have on every trip) and getting us exactly where we needed to go, which fortunately turned out to be next to an Einstein Bagel place, so I got breakfast and Rachel got a pumpkin bagel that held her until the end of the train ride.

We got to Penn Station an hour earlier than I had thought our tickets said, so I talked to a guy at a tourist information booth and decided we'd take a cab to the Queens public library in Rego Park, hang out for an hour, change into our fancy holiday clothes and then walk to Darryl and Daniella's apartment. Thank heavens that Daniella offered to have Darryl drive us there because it would have been a long, ugly walk.

We had a delicious dinner with Mom, Dad, Daniella, Darryl and Valerie (who was overjoyed to see Rachel and they immediately changed into their matching Hana Andersen dresses) and cousin Patty who was visiting from Israel. They all left around 10 or so, and by the time the girls got to bed and I got to bed, it was around midnight.

The next day was rainy. We all got up and went to services at Daniella's lovely old synagogue, which is very progressive because they have a children's playroom on the third floor; Rachel and Valerie played, ate some challah and fruit and watched movies while Daniella, Darryl and I stayed downstairs for most of the services (although only Daniella and I listened to the rabbi's sermon, which was great and I'm glad we stayed).

Then I took everyone out to lunch, and got Daniella to promise to take me back, just us, because there is a fabulous drink menu and I was dying to try a flavored martini or two. She treated the girls to frozen yogurt for dessert while I went to a bakery and got some treats for myself and shared with Daniella and Darryl later.

We went home and the girls watched some old, old episodes of "The Electric Company" -- a great reminder of why I can read and count so well, I learned it all from public television -- and then "Dora the Explorer." The contrast could not have been greater. Seriously, the people who created "The Electric Company" must have been on a serious acid trip, even though the show moves at a snail's pace, and "Dora" looks so unimaginative and flat in comparison.

I fell asleep on the couch; Daniella fell asleep on the floor and the girls played in Valerie's room until we all got up and Daniella decided it was time for a refreshing nighttime walk (plus I needed to go to CVS for some hair clips). When we got back, Daniella reheated the previous night's excellent dinner -- chicken, couscous, challah -- and we went to bed.

More later...

Surprise for Daddy

Last night, Rachel told Drew to come downstairs to the study and look on his desk.

On it was a sign with an arrow pointing down, saying, "For You."

There was a pack of baseball cards. Apparently Rachel got them from one of her camp buddies this summer and thought Drew would like them because he enjoys baseball so much.

She really does have the biggest heart imaginable...

New names for Mommy and Daddy

Rachel has decided that our new names are "Mudge," (Drew) and "Bubba" (me).

"BUBBA?!?" I wailed. "How about Ima? Ima is Hebrew for mother." (I was thinking of a Jewish/Christian lesbian couple I know; one is called Mommy, the other is Ima.)

"'Bubba' is like 'Bubbie,' which is Russian for 'grandmother,'" Rachel explained. "Do you want 'Bubba' or 'Bubbie?'"

"I'll take 'Bubba,'" I groused.

Mudge, I have no idea where that came from. I'm kind of getting used to both, though. Now we have to think of an equally ridiculous nickname for Rachel...

Prim

When Rachel wants to diss someone (like, say, an uncool princess), she calls them "prim." It usually means that person is unduly fussy about something.

Last night while I was at work, Rachel was eating a biscuit rather messily, and Drew gently chastised her, saying that Mommy doesn't like it when she doesn't eat nicely.

"That's because Mommy's about 10 percent prim," she announced. "But she's 100 percent non-prim."

"100 percent is all," Drew replied. "If she's 10 percent prim, how much non-prim would she have to be."

"80 percent!" Rachel guessed.

"You sure?" Drew replied.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "90 percent!"

So, apparently I am 10 percent prim and 90 percent un-prim. Rachel claims she is 100 percent non-prim. Which explains the state of her hair (uncombed) and clothes (whatever she decides to throw together in the morning.)

I will try to clean her up for Rosh Hashanah, folks.

Morning events

Rachel came into our bedroom this morning and reminded me that I had promised to buy her a necklace to replace the one that she gave to Libby last Friday (and promptly sobbed, since I think she regretted it immediately but couldn't take it back once she'd given it).

That was a foolish promise on my part, one I will never do again, because if she gives things away (as Drew pointed out to her last night), she can't expect to get them back and she can't expect that Mommy and Daddy will replace what she gives as gifts.

I was thinking of all of this and got very cross when Rachel mentioned it to me, because I was half-asleep and I can't for the life of me figure out when I would have time to buy her a necklace, anyway, especially the one she wants, which is at her doctor's office, where they give kids a token to get a little surprise at random, and I didn't want to head all the way in to Falls Church to take care of it.

"I just came in to wake you up," Rachel said in a hurt voice, as she slid off the bed.

I felt awful, and a few minutes later I went in to her room to apologize. She was on the floor, having forgotten the incident, and said proudly, "Look, Mom! I've almost folded my blanket!" (we insist that she makes her bed in the morning.) All was okay until we were walking to school and she remembered that she had meant to put Band-Aids on the blisters she's gotten from the monkey bars at school. I told her she could go to the clinic for the Band-Aids, and she got all worried that her teacher wouldn't give her permission to go, and then I told her to tell her teacher that her mom told her she needed to go to the clinic.

That still didn't satisfy her, so just as we reached the building I bent down and said, "How about we BOTH go to the clinic on the way to class, and I'll get you some Band-Aids."

The relief in her voice was palpable. "I love you, Mommy, because you always do good things for me," she said.

"Of COURSE I do!" I exclaimed, leaning down. "You're my DAUGHTER."

It's the little things, I guess...

Sweet, loving child

We were all a little tense this morning trying to eat breakfast, gather all our stuff and head out the door for Hebrew school and tennis lessons (which are right after Hebrew school, so Rachel had to remember her racquet, sneakers and a change of clothes). Drew, meanwhile, had hoped to have brunch with me -- something we want to do while Rachel is Hebrew school so we can catch up from the week -- and he was cranky that we had to go to a class instead (see previous post).

"I know you know this already," Rachel said at one point. "But I love you more than anything in the world."

"And Mommy, too," Drew prompted.

"And Mommy," she added.

It's times like these that we realize how lucky we are to have such a wonderful daughter.

Jewish education

After we dropped Rachel off at choir practice and raced to and from the farmer's market, Drew and I attended a class/group discussion on our goals for Rachel's Hebrew school education. It was pretty illuminating, probably because I didn't realize that there are Jews in the military who work very hard to be Jewish even when they're stationed in out-of-the-way places where there aren't many Jews.

In class, Rachel decorated a glass dish for Rosh Hashana apple-and-honey dipping (they had apples and honey for snack) and learned about the letter "shin." She seems to be enjoying it a lot, and I hope this sticks. One of the things I mentioned in our discussion was that I'm secretly hoping to learn a lot more about Judaism through the things Rachel tells me about class, and apparently they are starting a program for parents to learn at the same pace their kids are, so they can have family discussions about that week's lesson.

I think that's a brilliant idea.

Rachel also has come up with a nickname for me: Bubba. When she's cuddly or has missed me or is about to say goodbye to me before I go to work, she'll say, "I love BUBBA," like she did this afternoon when she and Drew dropped me off at The Post for my afternoon/night shift. "Call me Ima!" I pleaded. "Ima means 'mother' in Hebrew!" But she didn't listen. So, I guess I'm resigned to being called "Bubba" for the foreseeable future. (My friend Dan's granddaughters call him "Oz" for no apparent reason, and he has told me that grandparents get called what their grandchildren decide to call them, so...I guess it could be worse.)

Sleepover hell

So, Rachel attempted to have her second sleepover in two weeks on Friday night. Her friend Libby was scheduled to spend the night with us while her parents, David and Kelly, celebrated their 10th anniversary in Denver where Kelly had to go for a business trip. Rachel had already had a sleepover at their place while Drew and I went to a concert at Wolf Trap (Beethoven's Ninth), and so we really wanted to reciprocate the favor.

Libby came home with me and Rachel from extended day; I had put a roast chicken in the oven and on the way to the playground, Rachel told Libby "My Mom makes the BEST roast chicken!" We roasted some red potatoes and took the girls to Toby's, a local ice cream place, for dessert.

Libby had been moody before dinner, when she put her head on her knees and said she missed her mom. After we got home from Toby's, Drew blew up an air mattress (not an easy task) and put it in Rachel's room for Libby to sleep on, and we thought all was okay.

Drew had planned to go to the gym, but something told him it was a good idea to stay home. Turns out he was prescient, because at around 10:45 Rachel came downstairs and said that Libby wanted to go home. By the time Drew got her parents on the phone, Libby had packed up her backpack and was ready to hightail it home. He drove her back to her house -- Kelly and David have a houseguest who, luckily, was home -- and Rachel insisted on cuddling with me. She then revealed that she doesn't like sleepovers at other people's houses. "I try to be brave, but inside, I'm struggling," she said, explaining why she had never told us that before.

Apparently, Ivy's house is okay for a sleepover because it's right down the block and Rachel has been there so many times that she's comfortable sleeping there. And Girl Scout sleepover camp, even for a whole week, is okay too.

Last week her friend Sidney stayed over and wanted to go home around midnight or so, but I said sternly that she had asked to stay over, and she and Rachel needed to stop crying and get to bed because they both WANTED THE SLEEPOVER. Sure enough, they went to sleep and didn't get up until the next morning.

For now, Drew and I are done with sleepovers until Rachel is much older. (Unless, of course, Valerie is involved. At that point, we will leave the girls in Darryl and Daniella's apartment while the parents go away for a weekend and laugh ourselves silly.)

Rachel's new book

We were in the District today, at Rachel's request, because she wanted to visit the Lincoln Memorial. Drew bought her a book there called, "Mary America."

The book is about a 12-year-old girl who becomes president of the United States in place of her grandfather. She finished high school at age 10.


This was after Rachel tore through a book about Cleopatra and her young handmaiden, Nefret. It was fiction but based on history, and Rachel could not put it down since she started reading it last night.

"I LOVE HISTORY!" she exclaimed as we walked to the Memorial today. We also visited a little place on an island in a reflecting pool near the Washington Monument called "Constitution Gardens." Drew and I spent the time discussing politics and the Republicans' chances of taking the Senate while Rachel buried herself in "Mary America."

One of the things I love about D.C.? We never have to be part of a tour group. History is all around us and we get to partake of it for free!

Being Jewish

Rachel has always had a strong feeling for Judaism, for reasons I don't quite understand. The other day she said to me, "I wish I could wave a wand and make everyone Jewish!" Other times she's said she feels uncomfortable around people who are Christian.

When we were walking home from school on Wednesday, she told me that "people think I'm weird because I'm Jewish."

"What do they say?" I asked carefully. (inside I was groaning, great, we live in the South now, and she's becoming more aware of these things, and, really, does it have to start this early??)

She didn't reply. instead, I told her that Judaism is the oldest religion there is, and that, in fact, Jews are special because we're the "chosen people."

She really seemed to like that idea of exclusivity. Today, when we were in the District, we visited a statue of Albert Einsten. "He's Jewish!" I said proudly. "He's one of the chosen!" she said back.

Hopefully that will keep her for a while, until she makes friends at the synagogue and decides that being Jewish is cool.

Song lyrics

Rachel taught us (and her friend, Libby) the lyrics to a song she picked up from her friend, Simone. It goes like this:

Down by the banks of the hankety-pank
Where the bullfrogs jump from bank to bank
With an eeps ips obs ups
One falls in and goes kerplop

I pledge allegiance to the flag
Justin Beiber makes me gag
Seven up and with the flu
Now I'm drinking Mountain Dew
Mountain Dew fell off the mountain
Now I'm drinking from the fountain
Fountain broke and now I'm drinking...
Plain old Coke

Pepsi Cola ginger ale
Ginger ale, ginger ale, ginger ale ginger ale
Pepsi Coal ginger ale
Ginger ale..12345
You're out!

I have no idea what any of it means. Picture a little girl saying it in a sing-songy voice, and you get an idea what it's been like around our house for the past two nights.

Rachel's activities

So, Rachel is one busy kid. We have signed her up for swimming, tennis, gymnastics, religious school, Daisy Scouts, and we hope to get her into Odyssey of the Mind, too. She asked for everything, and we said yes before we quite realized how things were piling up.

For extended-day activities, we're hoping to get her in to a STEAM class (Science, Technology, Engineering, Art, Mathematics), which apparently uses scientific principles to explain great works of art such as Shakespeare and Michelangelo. Or something like that. Also hoping she gets in to a class called "Creative Movement" and some kind of sports class where they learn different games every week, like Capture the Flag and such.

She was dragging her feet last night before gymnastics, which meant she and Drew were five minutes late, and he chewed her out for delaying. He noted to me that if she's going to do all these activities, then she has to get better at time management. And I agree.

She's also interested in embroidery. Gotta find her an embroidery kit somewhere. Hey, Mom, remember those dinner napkins I embroidered for you when I was a kid with that embroidery kit you got me? I told Rachel all about it. Do you still have them?

Religious school

We have joined a synagogue in Falls Church and enrolled Rachel in Sunday school. I have mixed feelings about the synagogue -- it is so big; there are 900 children in religious school, making it one of the five largest religious schools in the country -- and although people seem nice, I miss our former rabbi in Portland, Michael Cahana, dreadfully; he and Rachel really seemed to have a connection (he called her his Shabbat Shalom girl, because he said it didn't feel like Shabbat unless he had a hug from her.) But the synagogue is a 10-minute drive away, and the chief rabbi is a woman (which Drew really likes), and there are lots of activities and chances to get involved, and they run a great summer camp (so I'm told.) And we really needed to make a decision about a spiritual home.

Last Sunday was the first day of school. Rachel ASKED to be enrolled in Hebrew school; she has been bugging us about it for several months now. "Who doesn't want to learn?" she asked. At this age, it's a very low-key introduction to Judaism and emphasizes a Jewish person's place in the world rather than hard-core Hebrew lessons (those start in 4th grade.) And I like that she'll be learning about the holidays, the Jewish cycle of life, etc., because maybe she can teach Mommy a thing or two.

She was quite nervous on the first day because she thought everyone would be talking in Hebrew, but she came out smiling, saying, "It went so fast!" At dinner, she said, "They were very gentle with us." Apparently that meant that they didn't scold the kids if they got anything wrong. They introduced at least one Hebrew word: "Po," which means "here," and "NoPo," which means "not here."

School runs from 11:15 a.m. to 1:30 p.m. on Sundays, and the total number of hours for the entire year turns out to be the equivalent of two weeks of public school. I'm just happy that she'll meet Jewish kids (maybe even some who attend McKinley Elementary) and hopefully we will meet some nice Jewish families.

Oh, and she has signed up for the synagogue choir which means we'll bring her in at 10:30 on the mornings of religious school so she can rehearse for a half-hour before class. She is following in Grandma's footsteps! Yay!

Rachel the politician

Rachel told us earlier this week that she was running for student council. She informed me of this while I was getting ready to take her to school on Tuesday, and she seemed to think I might say that it wasn't a good idea.

"Are you KIDDING?!" I exclaimed. "I am SO PROUD OF YOU!"

Today, she announced when I picked her up after school (I had the night off work because of back-to-school night) that "I have wonderful news!" Turns out that she and boy in her class, Noah, were chosen (voted by her classmates? I'm not sure, but she said Libby ran for it and lost) as the classroom representatives to the student council. They have a meeting once a month, and they'll get to help plan school fundraisers, activities, etc.

Drew and I told her effusively how proud we are of her.

We're in D.C., after all. The politicking starts early.

Adorableness alert!

This morning Drew took Rachel to school while I raced to an exercise class I've started that is kicking me in the ASS -- I've been sore all over for the past two days -- and he related this story:

As Rachel entered the building, her little friend Libby came up and gave her a hug. Then her little friend Sydney did the same, as did Tasia -- they are all friends from last year -- and Rachel exclaimed to Drew, I did NOT expect this!" and then they all linked hands and walked down the hall together.

"Rachel, do you need me for anything?" Drew called after her.

"No, you can go," she said.

And so it begins. Rachel, the Popular Kid.

Back to school night!

Another school year, another back to school night. Tonight we got to see Rachel's first-grade classroom. She has a lovely teacher, Mrs. McAdam, and a locker, and a desk, and the emphasis this year is on independence and responsibility. (Can't imagine how Waldorf-supporting parents would feel about this; learning is fairly regimented -- if fun -- at this age.) There was a note for us from Rachel at her desk, and a paper-plate portrait she made of herself, and artwork along the walls, and some writing (Rachel said her favorite activity is reading, and that she LOVES -- not likes -- American Girl doll books and "The Thicketty," which I am hoping to read to her on our train ride up to NYC next week for Rosh Hashana.)

Parent-teacher conferences are in a couple of weeks.

It was so cute to see Rachel so eager to show us her world at school, and she insisted on reading a book to me that was really hilarious, "The Diary of a Worm," in which a worm talks about taking a vacation at The Compost Resort, and how he has a bad dream about chickens playing hopscotch. I told Rachel it was a great book.

Tonight as I got her ready for bed, I told Rachel that they didn't have American Girl dolls when I was growing up, and then she immediately replied, "Well, maybe I can get you one for a present," and then insisted I listen to the brief biographies of all the dolls. I really think that she may end up saving money in her NEW SAVINGS ACCOUNT (which she opened with Drew at his credit union last Saturday while I was on a catering job) to buy me one. Which just tells me how sweet she is.

Kid says the darndest things...

On the way to the Outer Banks, Rachel suddenly said, "I'm an iron fist in a velvet glove."

Drew's reaction: "WHAT?!"

Rachel: "That means I'm tough, but also calm. I like to sew and I like to run around."

We know she didn't make up that expression but she won't tell us where she heard it.