McKinley has an annual International Night, where kids perform songs and dances from around the world and parents bring in foods representing their countries, and there are lots of games and other things going on. When we went last year, we had a blast -- Rachel had a flag of Belgium painted on her face, and really got into some of the games and activities (the kindergartners didn't perform).
This year, Drew and I have been listening over and over again to the songs Rachel was singing as part of the 1st-grade performance. The Spanish Club members did some salsa and other dances. Rachel had to wear blue pants and a white shirt, so she and Drew went out and got jeans and a long white blouse. She looked so grown-up on stage, with her long hair and tween outfit, that, as Drew said, it's hard to believe she was a baby once. ("We're parents," he said incredulously as the performance was about to start. "We're listening to our kid sing the songs that have driven us crazy over the last few weeks." Uh-huh.)
The performance was lovely and I got a few photos with my camera. I felt bad that I hadn't done any volunteering around the event, but I was so tied up with work and freelancing that I didn't felt I'd have the time. There's still the PTA auction, which I hope to help out more with than I was able to do last year.
Nicole, Sidney and Nicole's ex-husband, Chris, were there. Nicole said to me, "It's embarrassing when the vice-principal mainly knows you for the trouble your kid causes," and then she laughed it off. I'm glad she feels comfortable enough to share that with me, but still...it made me wince all the same.
Rachel asked if Ivy could sleep over tomorrow night and we said, sure, bring her over for Family Fun Night (I believe they will be watching a Shirley Temple movie, which were my favorites growing up, too). Rachel got upset that we wouldn't promise a sleepover, but she does have Hebrew school and a swim lesson on Sunday, so we'll see -- she is doing so well with swimming, Drew says, it's great to see!
Drew also said tonight that Rachel is having some interpersonal issues with members of the Buddy Trio, which is why she was subdued and kind of upset when I picked her up tonight (I wasn't in the best mood either, having spent my day running all over town doing errands I've been putting off since practically the time we moved here, but I just finished a magazine story so I'm seizing the moment before what hopefully will be an onslaught of work). My guess is that she's having to mediate between Sidney and Simone. Perhaps she'll tell me more this weekend.
Friday, January 30, 2015
Unexpected guest
I had Thursday night off, and we had decided ahead of time that I would make dinner -- lamb blades (less expensive than chops or rack of lamb) coated with panko and parmesan cheese; rice pilaf, salad, and a chocolate-chip cake (I decided to bake it because Drew and Rachel have been very patient watching Mommy back cake and cookies for everyone in the universe except them). Sidney's mom Nicole asked if we could take Rachel for her that night, and we said sure.
I picked them both up from extended day and Sidney was a model of good behavior -- it was hard to remember that she was the same sulky, whiny, tamper-throwing child I was used to. She was chatty on the way home and very polite when we got inside, even helping me set the table willingly when I asked her to and Rachel was sulking on the living-room couch because I wouldn't let her sit in my seat or Drew's at the dinner table.
At one point she was sulking so much that Sidney said, "I don't want Rachel to be sad," and I got worried that Rachel wasn't entertaining her guest, so I bent down and said, "If you don't play with Sidney, I can just send her home." She shaped up a bit after that, but not much.
Sidney politely said she didn't like the lamb after trying it, which was fine, and asked if she could still have dessert. Drew equivocated for a bit and said, "how about some more pilaf?" and she had eaten several slices of tomatoes, so it appeared to be okay.
Then Nicole showed up and we persuaded her to sit down and eat (luckily we had enough food) and I gave her my place at the table while I cleaned up the kids' dishes, separated the leftovers into Tupperware to take to work, etc.
Meanwhile, Sidney had turned right back into the whiny, tantrum-throwing child she usually is. She said to her mom, who was trying to get her to eat more lamb before dessert, that she didn't like the lamb, that it was "gross." Nicole tried to joke her out of it, but I would have been mortified if Rachel had said that at someone's house. (In the kitchen, while she was getting herself more water, I leaned down and said, "Rachel, please don't EVER say the food is gross if you're at someone's house." I hadn't even finished the words when she said patiently, "I know, Mom.") Then when it came time to leave she pitched a FIT. When Nicole told her to clear her plate she said, "NO! I don't HAVE to! You can't make me!" and I was really taken aback. Finally I said, "You know, Sidney, you can always come back," to reassure her that this wouldn't be the last time she'd be here. I wrapped up some cake for both of them and sent them on their way.
Drew and I were appalled. Why does she act that way? I told him; she was perfectly well-behaved earlier in the evening. His theory is that Sidney has figured out that she can't manipulate me the way she can manipulate Nicole (and is probably secretly glad that that's the case), so that's why she behaves in front of me. And when her mom shows up, she just reverts to bad habits. Nicole doesn't seem to me to be the strictest parent -- she watches grown-up TV shows with her daughter, which I think is odd and probably not a good idea.
I also had another thought: I wonder if Sidney's extreme reaction to leaving has something to do with her parents' divorce -- that she associates leaving with abandonment, the severing of her family, and that she hopes that if she throws a fierce enough tantrum, that maybe her parents will get back together. Or maybe it's just her way of acting out how mad she is that the grownups in her life have let her down.
Either way, if we can be a calming presence in her life, that's all to the good.
I picked them both up from extended day and Sidney was a model of good behavior -- it was hard to remember that she was the same sulky, whiny, tamper-throwing child I was used to. She was chatty on the way home and very polite when we got inside, even helping me set the table willingly when I asked her to and Rachel was sulking on the living-room couch because I wouldn't let her sit in my seat or Drew's at the dinner table.
At one point she was sulking so much that Sidney said, "I don't want Rachel to be sad," and I got worried that Rachel wasn't entertaining her guest, so I bent down and said, "If you don't play with Sidney, I can just send her home." She shaped up a bit after that, but not much.
Sidney politely said she didn't like the lamb after trying it, which was fine, and asked if she could still have dessert. Drew equivocated for a bit and said, "how about some more pilaf?" and she had eaten several slices of tomatoes, so it appeared to be okay.
Then Nicole showed up and we persuaded her to sit down and eat (luckily we had enough food) and I gave her my place at the table while I cleaned up the kids' dishes, separated the leftovers into Tupperware to take to work, etc.
Meanwhile, Sidney had turned right back into the whiny, tantrum-throwing child she usually is. She said to her mom, who was trying to get her to eat more lamb before dessert, that she didn't like the lamb, that it was "gross." Nicole tried to joke her out of it, but I would have been mortified if Rachel had said that at someone's house. (In the kitchen, while she was getting herself more water, I leaned down and said, "Rachel, please don't EVER say the food is gross if you're at someone's house." I hadn't even finished the words when she said patiently, "I know, Mom.") Then when it came time to leave she pitched a FIT. When Nicole told her to clear her plate she said, "NO! I don't HAVE to! You can't make me!" and I was really taken aback. Finally I said, "You know, Sidney, you can always come back," to reassure her that this wouldn't be the last time she'd be here. I wrapped up some cake for both of them and sent them on their way.
Drew and I were appalled. Why does she act that way? I told him; she was perfectly well-behaved earlier in the evening. His theory is that Sidney has figured out that she can't manipulate me the way she can manipulate Nicole (and is probably secretly glad that that's the case), so that's why she behaves in front of me. And when her mom shows up, she just reverts to bad habits. Nicole doesn't seem to me to be the strictest parent -- she watches grown-up TV shows with her daughter, which I think is odd and probably not a good idea.
I also had another thought: I wonder if Sidney's extreme reaction to leaving has something to do with her parents' divorce -- that she associates leaving with abandonment, the severing of her family, and that she hopes that if she throws a fierce enough tantrum, that maybe her parents will get back together. Or maybe it's just her way of acting out how mad she is that the grownups in her life have let her down.
Either way, if we can be a calming presence in her life, that's all to the good.
Snow!
It snowed last week and early this week, and Rachel had a great time with it. She and Drew went sledding together on McKinley Hill (the long, steep hill near the playground at McKinley Elementary) one morning before school because it was a late start -- 11 a.m. -- and I had worked very late the night before, so they didn't want to disturb me. I wish they had, although I'm sure this will not be the last time we'll get snow.
On the way to school that morning, Rachel and I packed snowballs and threw them at each other (she and Drew had done the same thing).
"Kira said she doesn't like snow," she said as we were walking together. "She's an indoor child. I can't believe someone doesn't like snow!"
"Indoor child?" I said.
"Yes," she replied. "I'm an outdoor child, because I love being outside!"
True enough.
On the way to school that morning, Rachel and I packed snowballs and threw them at each other (she and Drew had done the same thing).
"Kira said she doesn't like snow," she said as we were walking together. "She's an indoor child. I can't believe someone doesn't like snow!"
"Indoor child?" I said.
"Yes," she replied. "I'm an outdoor child, because I love being outside!"
True enough.
Friday, January 16, 2015
How much sass is too much?
On one of her "late start" mornings this week, Rachel asked me to come upstairs with her to talk while she got dressed. I put her off for a bit, since I had some work to do on a magazine story, but then decided to put it aside and walked upstairs.
She was so happy to see me. She had taken off her nightie and thrown it on the bed, inside-out.
"Is this the way we fold a nightgown?" I scolded gently.
She rolled her eyes. "Just like your husband!" she exclaimed.
Wow, I really had nothing to say to that.
She was so happy to see me. She had taken off her nightie and thrown it on the bed, inside-out.
"Is this the way we fold a nightgown?" I scolded gently.
She rolled her eyes. "Just like your husband!" she exclaimed.
Wow, I really had nothing to say to that.
Late starts
Lately we've been having several late starts to the school day -- snow overnight, not enough to be fun or even bothersome, but the school district apparently learned its lesson the other day and now, if there is even a whisper of snow in the forecast, we have late openings.
That's actually okay with me -- Rachel gets to sleep late; Drew and I start our mornings at our regular times, and then I get to squeeze in some interviews or writing before Rachel wakes up and I get to have a nice, relaxed breakfast before she gets to go to school. And, of course, we get some Mommy/Rachel cuddle time, which is always a bonus!
The other day during one of those mornings, Rachel launched herself into my lap (I was sitting in the papasan in the office). She was especially cuddly in her new turquoise bathrobe, which brings out the color of her eyes.
"Your gray hair," she remarked, looking at some of my silvery strands. "I think you're secretly 99 years old.
"RACHEL!!!" I shrieked.
"Rachel!" Drew chided from the dining room. "Mommy's only 85!"
Clearly, I cannot win with this family.
That's actually okay with me -- Rachel gets to sleep late; Drew and I start our mornings at our regular times, and then I get to squeeze in some interviews or writing before Rachel wakes up and I get to have a nice, relaxed breakfast before she gets to go to school. And, of course, we get some Mommy/Rachel cuddle time, which is always a bonus!
The other day during one of those mornings, Rachel launched herself into my lap (I was sitting in the papasan in the office). She was especially cuddly in her new turquoise bathrobe, which brings out the color of her eyes.
"Your gray hair," she remarked, looking at some of my silvery strands. "I think you're secretly 99 years old.
"RACHEL!!!" I shrieked.
"Rachel!" Drew chided from the dining room. "Mommy's only 85!"
Clearly, I cannot win with this family.
Colonial Girl, Part 2
Rachel is writing a graphic novel about the War of 1812. Yes! It is actually called (in big bubble letters):
americas graphic Novles!
the War of 1812
By: Rachel (heart) DeSilver
The dedication page says, "to all my friends who Love History as much as I do."
The opening strip: Two girls are sailing. There's a loud "Boom!"
"British!" the next strip says.
"What!" the girls exclaim.
"Prepare to be boarded," a man says.
"What News?" the girls ask.
"We have come to make war," the man says.
"But you're a king," one of the girls says. "And kings make peace, not war."
Apparently this is part 1 of a series. "Other Books In the Seires" the back says:
the Revalushnary War
World War 2
the Karean War
the Vietnam war
the golf war
The Afghanistan
the Iraq War
This child....
americas graphic Novles!
the War of 1812
By: Rachel (heart) DeSilver
The dedication page says, "to all my friends who Love History as much as I do."
The opening strip: Two girls are sailing. There's a loud "Boom!"
"British!" the next strip says.
"What!" the girls exclaim.
"Prepare to be boarded," a man says.
"What News?" the girls ask.
"We have come to make war," the man says.
"But you're a king," one of the girls says. "And kings make peace, not war."
Apparently this is part 1 of a series. "Other Books In the Seires" the back says:
the Revalushnary War
World War 2
the Karean War
the Vietnam war
the golf war
The Afghanistan
the Iraq War
This child....
Sunday, January 11, 2015
Friday meltdown
So, Rachel Jones spent much of Friday working and sleeping -- this cold snap is awful and it's hard to motivate oneself to go outside -- and I had a bunch of interviews I had to do, plus I wanted to grab a swim (it's too cold to walk to work) before I read to Rachel's class as part of the "Mystery Reader" program every Friday that parents volunteer for.
Anyway...I got to the class a little early and waited outside. When I came in, Rachel said, "I KNEW it was you!" and when I said, "How did you know?" she said, "You told me you had signed up for January, and I saw your black coat at the bottom of the window." As I told her teacher, Mrs. McAdam, there is no hiding ANYTHING from this kid.
I read "Rikki-tikki-Tavi," which I explained was a favorite of Rachel's aunt, Tia Daniella, ("Tia means aunt," Rachel explained to the class), and when some of the kids got restless and began talking, I just ignored them and plodded on, with different voices for the different characters. (Rachel selected a simpler version of the story from a stack of books in the classroom to show the kids what a mongoose looked like -- there were illustrations in my version, but the classroom book was better). The story slopped over into the end-of-school bell, so I quickly amended the ending and got ready to leave, which is when Rachel got very upset.
She begged me to take her home early, complained that she didn't want to go to extended day, and started howling and sobbing, to the point where I took her into my lap and kept asking her what was the matter, and she just kept saying that she wanted to be a "walker" and walk home from school. I tried to tell her that I couldn't do that, that I have to work at night and Daddy couldn't pick her up before 6, but she simply wouldn't be comforted. I finally had to push her off my lap and say, sternly, "Stop being dramatic, Rachel," as she gathered her papers and her backpack, still sobbing and wiping away her tears, and making her way to extended day. Feeling guilty as hell and very sad, I hopped into the car and drove home because Rachel Jones and I had a 5:30 reservation for Le Diplomate, a really great restaurant in D.C. that I had been dying to try for months. She got very dressed up, and I threw on a fancy dress and jewelry; we drove to the Metro and just made it in time. In a cab from the Metro to the restaurant, we heard an ad promoting my Sunday Post magazine cover story, which was a thrill for both of us, and we ended up having a lovely dinner with several cocktails, after which we dialed a former colleague of ours in St. Pete, Fla., just to say hello (we hadn't talked to her in 20 years; we ended up talking to her on Sunday and I told her how much her encouraging words had meant to me as a young, insecure reporter in my 20s. Glad I got to start the new year off with that message).
When we got home at the ridiculously early hour of 8:30, I ended up putting Rachel to bed and we had a long talk (she chose to talk instead of having me read her a book), and she really unloaded about how she misses me, and how she wished I could be home when school was over so she could walk home from school. I tried to explain that I had tried to get a job that had day hours but it didn't work, and that when you work for someone, you have to work the hours and days that they want you to. "You could start your OWN business, Mommy!" she said. "You could open a store! Daddy and I could help you!" "Well, sweetie," I said, "Opening a store costs money. You have to buy or rent a building, and pay to put stuff in it before you're able to sell it to people, and you have to pay people to work for you." She was unmoved and largely inconsolable -- even after I told her that working nights allows me to come into school during the days and do cool stuff like read and go on field trips. We left it as me saying I would talk to the folks at work and see what I could do, but I don't think I'll be able to switch to days anytime soon.
Drew later pointed out to me that his dad, who, in fact, did work in a store, worked late on Thursdays and all day Saturdays, so that's not necessarily the best solution, either. Wish I had thought of telling that to Rachel during our talk.
Anyway...I got to the class a little early and waited outside. When I came in, Rachel said, "I KNEW it was you!" and when I said, "How did you know?" she said, "You told me you had signed up for January, and I saw your black coat at the bottom of the window." As I told her teacher, Mrs. McAdam, there is no hiding ANYTHING from this kid.
I read "Rikki-tikki-Tavi," which I explained was a favorite of Rachel's aunt, Tia Daniella, ("Tia means aunt," Rachel explained to the class), and when some of the kids got restless and began talking, I just ignored them and plodded on, with different voices for the different characters. (Rachel selected a simpler version of the story from a stack of books in the classroom to show the kids what a mongoose looked like -- there were illustrations in my version, but the classroom book was better). The story slopped over into the end-of-school bell, so I quickly amended the ending and got ready to leave, which is when Rachel got very upset.
She begged me to take her home early, complained that she didn't want to go to extended day, and started howling and sobbing, to the point where I took her into my lap and kept asking her what was the matter, and she just kept saying that she wanted to be a "walker" and walk home from school. I tried to tell her that I couldn't do that, that I have to work at night and Daddy couldn't pick her up before 6, but she simply wouldn't be comforted. I finally had to push her off my lap and say, sternly, "Stop being dramatic, Rachel," as she gathered her papers and her backpack, still sobbing and wiping away her tears, and making her way to extended day. Feeling guilty as hell and very sad, I hopped into the car and drove home because Rachel Jones and I had a 5:30 reservation for Le Diplomate, a really great restaurant in D.C. that I had been dying to try for months. She got very dressed up, and I threw on a fancy dress and jewelry; we drove to the Metro and just made it in time. In a cab from the Metro to the restaurant, we heard an ad promoting my Sunday Post magazine cover story, which was a thrill for both of us, and we ended up having a lovely dinner with several cocktails, after which we dialed a former colleague of ours in St. Pete, Fla., just to say hello (we hadn't talked to her in 20 years; we ended up talking to her on Sunday and I told her how much her encouraging words had meant to me as a young, insecure reporter in my 20s. Glad I got to start the new year off with that message).
When we got home at the ridiculously early hour of 8:30, I ended up putting Rachel to bed and we had a long talk (she chose to talk instead of having me read her a book), and she really unloaded about how she misses me, and how she wished I could be home when school was over so she could walk home from school. I tried to explain that I had tried to get a job that had day hours but it didn't work, and that when you work for someone, you have to work the hours and days that they want you to. "You could start your OWN business, Mommy!" she said. "You could open a store! Daddy and I could help you!" "Well, sweetie," I said, "Opening a store costs money. You have to buy or rent a building, and pay to put stuff in it before you're able to sell it to people, and you have to pay people to work for you." She was unmoved and largely inconsolable -- even after I told her that working nights allows me to come into school during the days and do cool stuff like read and go on field trips. We left it as me saying I would talk to the folks at work and see what I could do, but I don't think I'll be able to switch to days anytime soon.
Drew later pointed out to me that his dad, who, in fact, did work in a store, worked late on Thursdays and all day Saturdays, so that's not necessarily the best solution, either. Wish I had thought of telling that to Rachel during our talk.
A historical Saturday
Rachel decreed that Saturday would be "history day," so after we took Rachel Jones to the airport (she is spending this coming week in St. Louis, then she'll be back the 20th until she leaves for Kenya the 23rd) we zipped over to the National Archives because Rachel decided she wanted to see the REAL Declaration of Independence. That is the way cool thing about living here; if Rachel decides she wants to examine some part of colonial history, we can either drive or take the Metro straight to the original source -- something we could never do in Oregon!
We got to the Archives a little after 3, which only gave us two hours to wander through the building -- but, man, was it worth it. It was a bitterly cold day, and the line to get in to the Archives usually winds around the block, but probably because of the cold it was easy to get it. And the guards are a lot personable than at the bigger, more well-known museums. One of them, noticing Rachel's crutches, asked if she wanted a wheelchair but we said no. At the end of our stay, another guard commented on how fast she can move on the crutches, and he said, "You GO, girl!" which left us both with a smile.
We saw the Declaration, and the Constitution, and the Bill of Rights, which are exhibited under glass in a low-light gallery. It was really thrilling to see them; I hadn't ever seen them before. Then we looked through some other galleries, including one that talked about genealogical records. Drew decided that for a school project someday, he and Rachel will research Luke Drury, for whom Rachel is named and whose powderhorn we have hanging in our dining room. Rachel got to design her own seal, while I looked at some examples of presidential camera footage (as well as the famous tape recorder that Nixon used in the White House). Toward the end, we went downstairs to see one of four surviving copies of Magna Carta. Drew really wanted to see it, since it will leave D.C. next week, and the exhibit was fabulous -- it went into the similarities between Magna Carta and the Declaration of Independence, and just seeing it under glass was amazing. Altogether, a terrific way to spend a cold, miserable January day!
When we got home, I had a phone interview for a magazine story. Rachel and I played a couple of rounds of Connect Four -- she beat me every time, except the one time she let me win -- and she wrapped a gift for a friend of hers whose birthday party/performance of Cinderella she would be attending on Sunday. Then we headed downstairs for Family Fun Night with pizza, cupcakes, and another "Alpha and Omega" movie. After Drew put Rachel to bed, we watched "House of Cards" and wrapped up the first season (the third season begins next month; hopefully we'll get through Season 2 before Season 3 ends). Great way to end the weekend (my part of it, at least).
We got to the Archives a little after 3, which only gave us two hours to wander through the building -- but, man, was it worth it. It was a bitterly cold day, and the line to get in to the Archives usually winds around the block, but probably because of the cold it was easy to get it. And the guards are a lot personable than at the bigger, more well-known museums. One of them, noticing Rachel's crutches, asked if she wanted a wheelchair but we said no. At the end of our stay, another guard commented on how fast she can move on the crutches, and he said, "You GO, girl!" which left us both with a smile.
We saw the Declaration, and the Constitution, and the Bill of Rights, which are exhibited under glass in a low-light gallery. It was really thrilling to see them; I hadn't ever seen them before. Then we looked through some other galleries, including one that talked about genealogical records. Drew decided that for a school project someday, he and Rachel will research Luke Drury, for whom Rachel is named and whose powderhorn we have hanging in our dining room. Rachel got to design her own seal, while I looked at some examples of presidential camera footage (as well as the famous tape recorder that Nixon used in the White House). Toward the end, we went downstairs to see one of four surviving copies of Magna Carta. Drew really wanted to see it, since it will leave D.C. next week, and the exhibit was fabulous -- it went into the similarities between Magna Carta and the Declaration of Independence, and just seeing it under glass was amazing. Altogether, a terrific way to spend a cold, miserable January day!
When we got home, I had a phone interview for a magazine story. Rachel and I played a couple of rounds of Connect Four -- she beat me every time, except the one time she let me win -- and she wrapped a gift for a friend of hers whose birthday party/performance of Cinderella she would be attending on Sunday. Then we headed downstairs for Family Fun Night with pizza, cupcakes, and another "Alpha and Omega" movie. After Drew put Rachel to bed, we watched "House of Cards" and wrapped up the first season (the third season begins next month; hopefully we'll get through Season 2 before Season 3 ends). Great way to end the weekend (my part of it, at least).
The Declaration of Independence of...The Buddy Trio
...reads as follows:
The Declrieshen of the Buddy trio
In the Buddy trio, we will be kind to everyone, evryware. we also try to Respect nature whie we are working. altho we oFen use Nature for our projects. we also try to turn extra prim pepele Into Nature guids.
It's in the shape of a scroll, which Rachel unrolled with a flourish last night. Apparently she is in charge of writing the declaration (which makes her a modern-day Jefferson, I suppose).
"What are extra prim people?" I asked carefully.
"People who don't like nature," she explained.
Oh.
The Declrieshen of the Buddy trio
In the Buddy trio, we will be kind to everyone, evryware. we also try to Respect nature whie we are working. altho we oFen use Nature for our projects. we also try to turn extra prim pepele Into Nature guids.
It's in the shape of a scroll, which Rachel unrolled with a flourish last night. Apparently she is in charge of writing the declaration (which makes her a modern-day Jefferson, I suppose).
"What are extra prim people?" I asked carefully.
"People who don't like nature," she explained.
Oh.
Tuesday, January 6, 2015
Saturday plans
Rachel told Drew the other day that she wants to see the original Declaration of Independence (did we mention that she is really, really into colonial history?). So, we've decided to go to the National Archives on Saturday. They have the Magna Carta exhibited there and it leaves Jan. 19, so this seems an excellent chance to do both.
Further proof our girl is a budding historian: "The War of 1812 is when we REALLY won our freedom," she said confidently to Drew recently. Apparently they had had a long discussion about the difference between the Revolutionary War and the War of 1812.
Further proof our girl is a budding historian: "The War of 1812 is when we REALLY won our freedom," she said confidently to Drew recently. Apparently they had had a long discussion about the difference between the Revolutionary War and the War of 1812.
Snowmaggedon!
So, this was one of the rare days where I thought that maybe school should have been cancelled (although I'm glad it wasn't). Snow was forecast, but not quite as much as what actually fell -- about 3 inches, probably more -- and Arlington didn't cancel school because, they said, they had adequate warning and were all ready.
Well, I don't know that the rest of Arlington was. Drew tried to drive Rachel the three blocks to school because of her crutches, but he ended up sliding down the street and parking semi-legally near the bike path near our house -- and so that poor man half-carried, half-walked Rachel to school (I had expected to take her, but Drew announced he would since he had planned to drive to the train station anyway).
They had quite the adventure. When they arrived, Drew said the school felt as if it was about half-full (Rachel said four kids were absent today); the crossing guard slipped on the ice and hurt herself so badly that an ambulance had to take her away, which meant the street was closed; and a school bus with kids inside slid down the street and hit a parked car. Drew came home around 9:30 and announced he'd be working from home today because Pew, thank goodness, had made it optional for people to come in to the office today. We ended up having a nice time; I worked on a magazine story and he did some research, and we were able to eat lunch together, which we almost never do. (Rachel Jones had taken the Metro in very early before the majority of the snow hit, and she had borrowed one of my coats, so she was at least warm.) I headed in at my usual time.
Arlington is opening two hours late tomorrow morning because of unspecified ice conditions, which I don't quite understand, but I'll take her in at 11. Then I'm hoping to grab a swim and keep working on the magazine story before heading to work at 4:30 -- I'm working a late shift until midnight. Can't decide whether to drive in (which I tend to do when I work late shifts because parking is cheap downtown after 4 p.m.) or not risk the roads and take the Metro instead, hoping I can get out a little early so I don't miss the 12:06 a.m. train.
Well, I don't know that the rest of Arlington was. Drew tried to drive Rachel the three blocks to school because of her crutches, but he ended up sliding down the street and parking semi-legally near the bike path near our house -- and so that poor man half-carried, half-walked Rachel to school (I had expected to take her, but Drew announced he would since he had planned to drive to the train station anyway).
They had quite the adventure. When they arrived, Drew said the school felt as if it was about half-full (Rachel said four kids were absent today); the crossing guard slipped on the ice and hurt herself so badly that an ambulance had to take her away, which meant the street was closed; and a school bus with kids inside slid down the street and hit a parked car. Drew came home around 9:30 and announced he'd be working from home today because Pew, thank goodness, had made it optional for people to come in to the office today. We ended up having a nice time; I worked on a magazine story and he did some research, and we were able to eat lunch together, which we almost never do. (Rachel Jones had taken the Metro in very early before the majority of the snow hit, and she had borrowed one of my coats, so she was at least warm.) I headed in at my usual time.
Arlington is opening two hours late tomorrow morning because of unspecified ice conditions, which I don't quite understand, but I'll take her in at 11. Then I'm hoping to grab a swim and keep working on the magazine story before heading to work at 4:30 -- I'm working a late shift until midnight. Can't decide whether to drive in (which I tend to do when I work late shifts because parking is cheap downtown after 4 p.m.) or not risk the roads and take the Metro instead, hoping I can get out a little early so I don't miss the 12:06 a.m. train.
A Washington evening
Yesterday, Rachel went back to school ("Hi, playground! I haven't played with you in two weeks!" she said cheerfully as she swung on her crutches past the playground) and Rachel Jones left very early in the morning for editing at Voice of America, so I had the house largely to myself (and I had a rare Monday off). I did two interviews for the magazine story I'm working on, set up a bunch more interviews for later this week, went swimming (I need to swim if I don't want my body to curl up into a little gnome-like figure because I edit 7 1/2 hours a day and the desk is not ergonomically correct for me), came home, worked some more and then hopped the train to meet Rachel in Northwest D.C. for dinner at the house of a colleague of hers from VOA.
The house was lovely -- its style reminded me of the insides of the Craftsman houses I miss so much in Portland -- and the couple was charming. Rachel's colleague, John, used to be at NPR and has worked a long time in public radio (he's 60), and even knew a former colleague of Drew's from the Seattle Times, David Postman. John's wife, Satha, is a federal public defender and successfully defended the guy accused of killing Chandra Levy. The food was excellent and low-cal; swordfish, pasta with spinach, a creamy soup and a cauliflower mash. I had brought a pinot noir from Erath Winery, one of my favorites in Oregon, and we had quite a lot to drink (two glasses for me). Then, for dessert, they brought out dark chocolate and raspberry liquer, chambord, which was OUT OF THIS WORLD. I hadn't wanted to go out, but Drew insisted, and we ended up having a great time.
It's evenings like those -- a school night, although it could just as easily have been a weekend -- that remind me how different my life is from when we lived in Oregon. And how mostly grateful I am for that.
The house was lovely -- its style reminded me of the insides of the Craftsman houses I miss so much in Portland -- and the couple was charming. Rachel's colleague, John, used to be at NPR and has worked a long time in public radio (he's 60), and even knew a former colleague of Drew's from the Seattle Times, David Postman. John's wife, Satha, is a federal public defender and successfully defended the guy accused of killing Chandra Levy. The food was excellent and low-cal; swordfish, pasta with spinach, a creamy soup and a cauliflower mash. I had brought a pinot noir from Erath Winery, one of my favorites in Oregon, and we had quite a lot to drink (two glasses for me). Then, for dessert, they brought out dark chocolate and raspberry liquer, chambord, which was OUT OF THIS WORLD. I hadn't wanted to go out, but Drew insisted, and we ended up having a great time.
It's evenings like those -- a school night, although it could just as easily have been a weekend -- that remind me how different my life is from when we lived in Oregon. And how mostly grateful I am for that.
Sunday, January 4, 2015
A really great day
Two weeks ago, Kelly Morrison -- leader of Rachel's Daisy Scouts troop, mom of Rachel's friend Libby and an incredibly nice, kind, Midwestern-born person -- told me she wanted me to stop by this Sunday but she wouldn't tell me why. The only requirement was that I bring a homemade or store-bought treat. I ended up making cinnamon streusel bread, which I haven't baked in years (and made Saturday night while Drew was out getting sushi).
So, Rachel and went over to the Morrisons at 11 this morning. The house was full of kids and a bunch of moms that I recognized from Libby's "Frozen" birthday party last month. After the kids had gone into various rooms (basement, playroom, Libby's room), Kelly gathered us all and said that after she was driving home from Libby's party (the one where I washed up the dishes during the party and afterward), she realized how much all of us meant to her and how she wanted to show her appreciation for all that we did (and at that point, she broke down and started crying), so that's why she had invited us over for brunch -- and bought us each a beautiful tea cup as a way of saying thanks, "because for some reason, tea feels so intimate." I went over and hugged her while she was crying and thanked her for being such a great person (which she is), and so we all sat down and had a great time with great food. Lots of talk about overcrowding in schools; the various in-laws and guests that are staying at all the moms' houses for extended periods of time; summer camp; etc. I loved being around grown-ups (even though the kids were running through the house most the time and eating God knows what junk food; they had NO INTEREST in any of the brunch food the grown-ups were eating) and just sitting around and talking. It was a nice coda to the rushed holiday season.
After we left, we met Drew at home and all headed to the Arlington animal shelter to hand over our tzedakah gift, explaining to the folks there about the tradition we've started about collecting money all year to give to a charity at Hanukkah, and how it was Rachel's decision to give the money to the shelter. They seemed really tickled at that, and invited us to tour the center and observe/play with the animals. Rachel was asked by a teacher to hang out with a rabbit the teacher was considering adopting for her class (she ended up going with a livelier rabbit), and Rachel was so sweet with the bunny - she stroked it very gently and the rabbit sniffed Rachel's hand and padded around the floor near her legs. Rachel also checked out a hamster, which she badly wants, and then we looked at the dogs (Rachel was delighted to feed them treats), and then hung out on the cat room for a bit.
This kid loves animals, and it's hard to believe that she used to be terrified of dogs when she was little. I believe that if we hadn't had to leave to drive me in to work, Rachel would have stayed there all afternoon. We looked at whether she and I could volunteer there, but it turns out that kids can't do that until they're 10, and then only with an adult. Only four more years from now...
So, Rachel and went over to the Morrisons at 11 this morning. The house was full of kids and a bunch of moms that I recognized from Libby's "Frozen" birthday party last month. After the kids had gone into various rooms (basement, playroom, Libby's room), Kelly gathered us all and said that after she was driving home from Libby's party (the one where I washed up the dishes during the party and afterward), she realized how much all of us meant to her and how she wanted to show her appreciation for all that we did (and at that point, she broke down and started crying), so that's why she had invited us over for brunch -- and bought us each a beautiful tea cup as a way of saying thanks, "because for some reason, tea feels so intimate." I went over and hugged her while she was crying and thanked her for being such a great person (which she is), and so we all sat down and had a great time with great food. Lots of talk about overcrowding in schools; the various in-laws and guests that are staying at all the moms' houses for extended periods of time; summer camp; etc. I loved being around grown-ups (even though the kids were running through the house most the time and eating God knows what junk food; they had NO INTEREST in any of the brunch food the grown-ups were eating) and just sitting around and talking. It was a nice coda to the rushed holiday season.
After we left, we met Drew at home and all headed to the Arlington animal shelter to hand over our tzedakah gift, explaining to the folks there about the tradition we've started about collecting money all year to give to a charity at Hanukkah, and how it was Rachel's decision to give the money to the shelter. They seemed really tickled at that, and invited us to tour the center and observe/play with the animals. Rachel was asked by a teacher to hang out with a rabbit the teacher was considering adopting for her class (she ended up going with a livelier rabbit), and Rachel was so sweet with the bunny - she stroked it very gently and the rabbit sniffed Rachel's hand and padded around the floor near her legs. Rachel also checked out a hamster, which she badly wants, and then we looked at the dogs (Rachel was delighted to feed them treats), and then hung out on the cat room for a bit.
This kid loves animals, and it's hard to believe that she used to be terrified of dogs when she was little. I believe that if we hadn't had to leave to drive me in to work, Rachel would have stayed there all afternoon. We looked at whether she and I could volunteer there, but it turns out that kids can't do that until they're 10, and then only with an adult. Only four more years from now...
Mary Poppins
Rachel has suddenly developed a "Mary Poppins" fixation. She sings "Supercalifragalisticexpialidocious" all around the house (I captured it on video on Saturday morning), as well as bits of "I love to laugh" and "A spoonful of sugar." She does this while I'm getting ready in the morning, and sometimes I'll join in, to her delight.
Where did she learn it? From art camp. We were going to rent it on Saturday night, but ended up watching the wolf movie instead. Hopefully next week...
Where did she learn it? From art camp. We were going to rent it on Saturday night, but ended up watching the wolf movie instead. Hopefully next week...
Tradition....tradition! Tradition....etc.
Took Rachel on Saturday to see "Fiddler on the Roof" while Drew put together the last of the stuff we bought at IKEA -- Rachel's desk. Before we left, I insisted that Rachel write thank-you notes while I started on our (very belated) holiday cards; I intend to finish them up this week and into the weekend. I feel bad for not getting them out earlier, but sometime in early-ish January is still okay, right? Right??
We both dressed up for the performance at Arena Stage, which is a gorgeous theater venue on the waterfront. The play was at an "in the round" theater, and we had excellent seats, plenty of room for Rachel to see the characters coming up and down the aisles. During the "Sabbath Prayer" sequence, at the top of each aisle was a woman cast member standing over lit candles, with two cast members on either side; it was quite lovely. Rachel LOVED the performance -- she howled at all the funny lines, and she kept repeating the one in which Tevye looks up and says, "As the Good Book says..." and then finishes, "Why should I tell YOU what the Good Book says?" She thought that was quite funny.
Drew kindly drove us to and from the performance, since between the driving rain and Rachel's crutches, we would have had a long journey there and back on the Metro (and driving took only 15 minutes each way). When we got home Rachel and I oohed and aahed over her desk, and we finished putting the last of her loose stuff in drawers and in a bin in her closet. Then I washed the sheets in the guest room, where all of Rachel's books and assorted ephemera have been living for the past week, tidied up and so now Rachel Jones, who returns to us tonight, has a clean room to sleep in (with a different bookcase full of all my Africa books). I swear, it looks like whole new house upstairs.
Then we all went downstairs for Family Movie Night, We rented a cute animated movie about wolves, which actually turned out to be pretty good, and I ate sushi while Rachel and Drew had pizza, and then we put Rachel to bed and Drew and I continued with the episodes we're watching from the first season of "House of Cards." We love that show. If we were younger, we'd probably binge-watch it. Altogther, it was a very nice, relaxing day.
We both dressed up for the performance at Arena Stage, which is a gorgeous theater venue on the waterfront. The play was at an "in the round" theater, and we had excellent seats, plenty of room for Rachel to see the characters coming up and down the aisles. During the "Sabbath Prayer" sequence, at the top of each aisle was a woman cast member standing over lit candles, with two cast members on either side; it was quite lovely. Rachel LOVED the performance -- she howled at all the funny lines, and she kept repeating the one in which Tevye looks up and says, "As the Good Book says..." and then finishes, "Why should I tell YOU what the Good Book says?" She thought that was quite funny.
Drew kindly drove us to and from the performance, since between the driving rain and Rachel's crutches, we would have had a long journey there and back on the Metro (and driving took only 15 minutes each way). When we got home Rachel and I oohed and aahed over her desk, and we finished putting the last of her loose stuff in drawers and in a bin in her closet. Then I washed the sheets in the guest room, where all of Rachel's books and assorted ephemera have been living for the past week, tidied up and so now Rachel Jones, who returns to us tonight, has a clean room to sleep in (with a different bookcase full of all my Africa books). I swear, it looks like whole new house upstairs.
Then we all went downstairs for Family Movie Night, We rented a cute animated movie about wolves, which actually turned out to be pretty good, and I ate sushi while Rachel and Drew had pizza, and then we put Rachel to bed and Drew and I continued with the episodes we're watching from the first season of "House of Cards." We love that show. If we were younger, we'd probably binge-watch it. Altogther, it was a very nice, relaxing day.
Art camp
Rachel had a good time at art camp on Friday and brought home a few projects...but there was one sour note: Sidney bent back her finger while they were involved in some kind of fight over a plastic peanut that Rachel wanted from Sidney. Cash, the woman who runs the camp with her husband, Mr. Earl, said she had put ice on the finger and it was fine.
I told Rachel to go to the other end of the room (camp was in a church) and told Cash as much as I could about Sidney and her family situation without being too indiscreet. She was very thankful for the information and said that Sidney had had a terrible day -- it started out with Sidney bringing a kid's iPad called a Navi(?), which Rachel told me later had been a Christmas present, to camp even though electronic devices are forbidden. And, Cash said, it just got worse from there; Sidney kept whining and acting up because she didn't want to do any of the group activities. "Sidney hates Lola's Lab" (the name of the art camp), Rachel said on the way home. We've heard that the reason Sidney's mom enrolled her is because Rachel goes, so Nicole, Sidney's mom, thinks Sidney should go, too.
And this morning we discovered Rachel's coat was shaded pink, and it turns out that Sidney spread chalk dust all over Rachel at art camp, so now we have to wash the coat. No big deal, but it shows the difference in behavior between the two.
When Rachel and I got home, I heated up the pasta and sausage soup I'd made for dinner, and the last of the store-bought challahs in our freezer; next week I can start making my own challah again, yay! says my family. We had a lovely and peaceful Shabbat.
I told Rachel to go to the other end of the room (camp was in a church) and told Cash as much as I could about Sidney and her family situation without being too indiscreet. She was very thankful for the information and said that Sidney had had a terrible day -- it started out with Sidney bringing a kid's iPad called a Navi(?), which Rachel told me later had been a Christmas present, to camp even though electronic devices are forbidden. And, Cash said, it just got worse from there; Sidney kept whining and acting up because she didn't want to do any of the group activities. "Sidney hates Lola's Lab" (the name of the art camp), Rachel said on the way home. We've heard that the reason Sidney's mom enrolled her is because Rachel goes, so Nicole, Sidney's mom, thinks Sidney should go, too.
And this morning we discovered Rachel's coat was shaded pink, and it turns out that Sidney spread chalk dust all over Rachel at art camp, so now we have to wash the coat. No big deal, but it shows the difference in behavior between the two.
When Rachel and I got home, I heated up the pasta and sausage soup I'd made for dinner, and the last of the store-bought challahs in our freezer; next week I can start making my own challah again, yay! says my family. We had a lovely and peaceful Shabbat.
Thursday, January 1, 2015
New Year's Day
I ended up getting home at 11:30 on New Year's Eve. By the time Drew and I caught up on various subjects (he finally found a rheumatologist for Rachel, yay!), it was 1 a.m. I was feeling pretty awful -- nauseous for some reason and my stomach hurt -- and so I went to bed.
I woke up with a headache at 8:30 this morning, then got up and took some Tylenol, then went back to sleep...until 10:30! I still felt awful, though; almost as if I'd had a hangover. Even though I didn't touch a drop of alcohol last night. In fact, the only thing I had that was even slightly out of the ordinary were three small pieces of Ghirardelli chocolate. The crumminess lasted well into the morning after breakfast. Rachel read on her bed while Drew put together her bookcase from IKEA -- it's a beautiful tall white bookcase and it looks GREAT in her room. I was going to insist that she start on her thank-you notes for her gifts, but she pointed out that she wanted to do something fun with Mommy "because you're going to work today." True enough. So, after I took a long, hot shower and dressed extra warmly (it is in the high 30s today), she got out the kids' Monopoly game and we played one round. I had really wanted to walk to the Metro station, both for the exercise and because I thought it might do me good, nausea-wise, but how could I turn down a chance to spend time with Rachel? I ended up driving to the station and, luckily, hopped a spanking new Silver line train. It was so pretty and clean, and practically empty! Great way to start the new year.
Rachel remarks:
At breakfast Drew and I were discussing what the sentence should be for former Va. Gov. Robert McDonnell, convicted of corruption. I pointed out that in The Post's story today, McDonnell said he apologized for what he'd done but doesn't seem to grasp that he committed a crime, which is why, he said, he didn't plead guilty -- because he's not guilty -- except that a jury found that he was.
Drew made some remark about how judges don't like that.
"You'd make a really good judge, Mom," Rachel said.
"I've often thought that I'd like to be a lawyer," I replied.
"No, your editing is better," she said. "Besides, if you were a lawyer, you wouldn't be working for the most biggest newspaper in the country!"
I woke up with a headache at 8:30 this morning, then got up and took some Tylenol, then went back to sleep...until 10:30! I still felt awful, though; almost as if I'd had a hangover. Even though I didn't touch a drop of alcohol last night. In fact, the only thing I had that was even slightly out of the ordinary were three small pieces of Ghirardelli chocolate. The crumminess lasted well into the morning after breakfast. Rachel read on her bed while Drew put together her bookcase from IKEA -- it's a beautiful tall white bookcase and it looks GREAT in her room. I was going to insist that she start on her thank-you notes for her gifts, but she pointed out that she wanted to do something fun with Mommy "because you're going to work today." True enough. So, after I took a long, hot shower and dressed extra warmly (it is in the high 30s today), she got out the kids' Monopoly game and we played one round. I had really wanted to walk to the Metro station, both for the exercise and because I thought it might do me good, nausea-wise, but how could I turn down a chance to spend time with Rachel? I ended up driving to the station and, luckily, hopped a spanking new Silver line train. It was so pretty and clean, and practically empty! Great way to start the new year.
Rachel remarks:
At breakfast Drew and I were discussing what the sentence should be for former Va. Gov. Robert McDonnell, convicted of corruption. I pointed out that in The Post's story today, McDonnell said he apologized for what he'd done but doesn't seem to grasp that he committed a crime, which is why, he said, he didn't plead guilty -- because he's not guilty -- except that a jury found that he was.
Drew made some remark about how judges don't like that.
"You'd make a really good judge, Mom," Rachel said.
"I've often thought that I'd like to be a lawyer," I replied.
"No, your editing is better," she said. "Besides, if you were a lawyer, you wouldn't be working for the most biggest newspaper in the country!"
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