Rachel decided to create yet another book series called "Mystery Girl," about a girl who time-travels to solve historical mysteries (YEAH!!).
For instance: Mystery Girl #8 would be called, "Return to Roanoke," and Mystery Girl #12 would be "Shaking hands with Shakespeare."
We were telling her the other day about the Lost Colony play on the Outer Banks and she seemed really interested, so hopefully we can take her this summer!
Monday, June 29, 2015
What I miss by working nights
As recounted by Drew:
At dinner tonight, Rachel raised her glass of milk and called out, "More ale, Maria!"
"Where did THAT come from?" Drew asked.
"From Twelfth Night," she said. "It's what Sir Toby says."
Drew cracked up. That started a discussion of Shakespeare -- Rachel has the kids' version of his plays that we bought her at a festival last year in Bellevue, Wash. -- and she said her favorite plays were "Twelfth Night" and a "A Midsummer Night's Dream."
Sometimes, though, she gets tired of stories with happy endings so she reads "Hamlet" because "everybody dies in the end."
And THEN they got to discussing what characters to cast in the Disney version of "Macbeth." They decided that Mickey would be Malcolm or Macduff. Clarabelle would be Lady Macbeth, and Donald would be King Duncan.
Drew and I have decided that we want to take her to the Folger Shakespeare Library's production of "A Midsummer Night's Dream" early next year. I bet she really gets into it!
Saturday, June 27, 2015
Rainy, rainy, rainy, rainy Saturday!
...and we spent it doing more car-shopping. We think we are about to make a decision; I just need to sleep on it. The cars under contention are a Toyota Camry (Drew's car) and a Nissan Altima (my car). All I can say is that cars have changed A LOT in the 16 years since I bought my last one!
At breakfast this morning, Rachel told me something that had occurred a few months ago (she thinks in April): She was walking in the hall at McKinley and a boy called out to her, "Girl! I've seen your sister. She looks like you, with brown hair, except her eyes are brown. And she's very tall."
"That's not my sister, that's my MOM!" Rachel replied.
As you can imagine, that anecdote delighted me. "You made my weekend!" I said.
"Actually, the boy did," Rachel replied. "I think you look like you're 20."
She paused.
"Except for the streaks of gray in your hair. And wrinkles."
Drew quickly jumped in.
"Rachel?" he said. "You should quit while you're ahead."
At breakfast this morning, Rachel told me something that had occurred a few months ago (she thinks in April): She was walking in the hall at McKinley and a boy called out to her, "Girl! I've seen your sister. She looks like you, with brown hair, except her eyes are brown. And she's very tall."
"That's not my sister, that's my MOM!" Rachel replied.
As you can imagine, that anecdote delighted me. "You made my weekend!" I said.
"Actually, the boy did," Rachel replied. "I think you look like you're 20."
She paused.
"Except for the streaks of gray in your hair. And wrinkles."
Drew quickly jumped in.
"Rachel?" he said. "You should quit while you're ahead."
Friday, June 26, 2015
Random Rachel sayings
On hearing that the Supreme Court legalized gay marriage: "That means I'm privileged to marry Kira anywhere!" after I told her about the decision when I picked her up from camp, and a Y counselor said, "In all 50 states!"
***
"I wish I was immortal," Rachel said in the car on the way back from camp. That led to a discussion of burial methods, and she expressed relief that because she's Jewish, she won't be cremated. Drew has said he wants to be cremated, and I said if he dies before me, cremating him would allow us to spread his ashes someplace nice.
"You should do it where you first met," Rachel said.
"What a lovely thought!" I said.
"Or a gas station," she said as we passed one on the corner of Washington Boulevard. "Or Burger King!"
"WHY Burger King???" I exclaimed.
"Because he likes Burger King," she said, and that was the end of that.
***
"Sometimes I feel like I'm doing and saying all the wrong things," she said during synagogue, "like I'm supposed to be living a whole other life."
Um, okay.
***
I was describing the retirement ceremony of a high-school friend of mine who went to the Coast Guard, which I attended today. It was nice; I got to meet his wife and grown-up daughters and GRANDCHILD, as well as another high-school friend of mine who had gone to the University of Michigan, so we swapped Wolverine stories.
I said that Don Jillson's youngest daughter, who is in college, had asked what her dad was like in high school. It came out of a left field, so I answered the first thing that was on my mind: "He was handsome, athletic, really smart and so nice," I told her. "I never thought he knew who I was, but then he wrote in my yearbook, 'I'll always remember your nice personality,' and it meant so much to me."
Then I told Rachel and Drew what I wish I had added, which came to me as I was driving to synagogue: He was comfortable in his skin. He was never fake, or did mean things to people, or pretended he was something that he wasn't; he gave the impression of "This is who I am."
And then Rachel piped up, "Much like Babe Ruth!"
"Um, how do you know about Babe Ruth??" I asked her.
She glanced toward Drew. "Baseball dude," she said.
"I thought I was Cookie Dude!" Drew exclaimed (he handled her troop's cookie sales this year).
"Nah, you're baseball dude," she said.
***
"I wish I was immortal," Rachel said in the car on the way back from camp. That led to a discussion of burial methods, and she expressed relief that because she's Jewish, she won't be cremated. Drew has said he wants to be cremated, and I said if he dies before me, cremating him would allow us to spread his ashes someplace nice.
"You should do it where you first met," Rachel said.
"What a lovely thought!" I said.
"Or a gas station," she said as we passed one on the corner of Washington Boulevard. "Or Burger King!"
"WHY Burger King???" I exclaimed.
"Because he likes Burger King," she said, and that was the end of that.
***
"Sometimes I feel like I'm doing and saying all the wrong things," she said during synagogue, "like I'm supposed to be living a whole other life."
Um, okay.
***
I was describing the retirement ceremony of a high-school friend of mine who went to the Coast Guard, which I attended today. It was nice; I got to meet his wife and grown-up daughters and GRANDCHILD, as well as another high-school friend of mine who had gone to the University of Michigan, so we swapped Wolverine stories.
I said that Don Jillson's youngest daughter, who is in college, had asked what her dad was like in high school. It came out of a left field, so I answered the first thing that was on my mind: "He was handsome, athletic, really smart and so nice," I told her. "I never thought he knew who I was, but then he wrote in my yearbook, 'I'll always remember your nice personality,' and it meant so much to me."
Then I told Rachel and Drew what I wish I had added, which came to me as I was driving to synagogue: He was comfortable in his skin. He was never fake, or did mean things to people, or pretended he was something that he wasn't; he gave the impression of "This is who I am."
And then Rachel piped up, "Much like Babe Ruth!"
"Um, how do you know about Babe Ruth??" I asked her.
She glanced toward Drew. "Baseball dude," she said.
"I thought I was Cookie Dude!" Drew exclaimed (he handled her troop's cookie sales this year).
"Nah, you're baseball dude," she said.
Outdoor Shabbat
So, to celebrate today's HISTORY-MAKING SUPREME COURT RULING LEGALIZING GAY MARRIAGE, I took Rachel to synagogue tonight because I was sure the rabbi was going to say something about it. Turns out he didn't, but that was okay. The service was outside and the weather had cooled down enough to make it pleasant and mosquito-free. Rachel introduced herself to the police officer who's always stationed outside the synagogue during services, and they had a very friendly conversation. That's her latest thing -- today, on the ride home from camp, she rolled down her window and hollered, "Hi!" to a guy in a van with a barking dog next to him. "I like to make friends," she said, when I gave her a look.
The rabbi did, however, talk about last week's awful shootings at the predominantly black Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, S.C. -- the "Emanuel Nine," as they are beginning to be called, were at a Bible-study session when a 21-year-old white kid named Dylann Roof opened fire and killed the pastor (and state senator) Clementa Pinckney, and other worshipers. He has confessed to the crime. I edited the very first story that The Washington Post had on the incident, and I had wanted to go to synagogue last Friday for comfort, but couldn't because I was out of town for another story (although I had seriously thought of just going into a synagogue somewhere on the road just so I could feel better).
I had kicked myself all week for missing the opportunity to do that, and tonight the rabbi mentioned the "Emanuel Nine" several times during the Misheberach and in other instances, so I felt as if I got to pay my respects in a very small way.
And it was great to have Rachel next to me, sleepy from camp, leaning her head against my shoulder and in my lap.
The rabbi did, however, talk about last week's awful shootings at the predominantly black Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, S.C. -- the "Emanuel Nine," as they are beginning to be called, were at a Bible-study session when a 21-year-old white kid named Dylann Roof opened fire and killed the pastor (and state senator) Clementa Pinckney, and other worshipers. He has confessed to the crime. I edited the very first story that The Washington Post had on the incident, and I had wanted to go to synagogue last Friday for comfort, but couldn't because I was out of town for another story (although I had seriously thought of just going into a synagogue somewhere on the road just so I could feel better).
I had kicked myself all week for missing the opportunity to do that, and tonight the rabbi mentioned the "Emanuel Nine" several times during the Misheberach and in other instances, so I felt as if I got to pay my respects in a very small way.
And it was great to have Rachel next to me, sleepy from camp, leaning her head against my shoulder and in my lap.
She passed her first swim test!
At cheer camp on Thursday, Rachel had to take a "swim test" to determine what level she was in terms of swimming. She swam across part of the pool and treaded water for 30 seconds. She said during the treading water part, she thought of different kinds of cookies -- chocolate chip, for one -- to keep her concentration and then, boom! the instructor said "that's enough."
Rachel got a green band (as opposed to a red band, which would have meant that she needed to wear a life jacket) and so she got to frolic around with the other kids. It's amazing to us how she has taken to the water so easily and delightfully! Wouldn't it be funny if she ends up being a lifeguard when she's a teenager?
Rachel got a green band (as opposed to a red band, which would have meant that she needed to wear a life jacket) and so she got to frolic around with the other kids. It's amazing to us how she has taken to the water so easily and delightfully! Wouldn't it be funny if she ends up being a lifeguard when she's a teenager?
Wednesday, June 24, 2015
A lovely evening
Dragged Rachel tonight to a performance of the Arlingtones, a tiny men's barbershop chorus, which was performing at the Lubber Run Amphitheater, part of Lubber Run Park, which is about a 10-minute drive from our house. She whined and said several times that she didn't want to go, and then reminded me that I had given her the choice of going or not (which I don't think I had). I explained to her firmly at dinner, "I'm taking you because this is something you should see," or something like that, which foreclosed all discussion.
I was so determined for us to go that I picked her up early from camp, raced us home and then made a quick stir-fry for dinner ("You should make this more often!" Rachel exclaimed; it turned out surprisingly well, which Drew complimented me on) and ate with her so we could get out of the house around 7:45 -- the moment that Drew walked through the door. I had told him I would serve us early and leave enough for him to eat, which he did while we were at the concert.
We got to the amphitheater just as the men started. A female barbershop quartet, See Jane Sing, was also part of the performance -- they did a few numbers. I was so impressed that Rachel remembered one of the old barbershop standards, which I hadn't. ("As soon as they started the chatting, I remembered!" she said.) She liked the women so much that she asked if she could give them money! When I told her it wasn't that kind of performance, she went up to them and (at my suggestion) told them that her Mommy sang with Pride of Portland, which apparently impressed the heck out of them. She got their autographs after their performance, as well as one of the men's, and I struck up a conversation with the women. They were very friendly and I realized how much I miss barbershop, but joining a chorus now is out of the question because I work nights (and, frankly, there really isn't a great one in this area).
Now, the men were terrible. And I mean, TERRIBLE. It was some of the most God-awful signing I've ever heard. The women were only slightly better by a teeny tiny margin. But you know what? As I was holding Rachel in my lap, exchanging kisses and slathered with bug spray, I closed my eyes and hoped I would remember the moment forever -- me and my little girl, on a warm (but not too hot) summer evening, listening to music outside. I hope she remembers, too.
I was so determined for us to go that I picked her up early from camp, raced us home and then made a quick stir-fry for dinner ("You should make this more often!" Rachel exclaimed; it turned out surprisingly well, which Drew complimented me on) and ate with her so we could get out of the house around 7:45 -- the moment that Drew walked through the door. I had told him I would serve us early and leave enough for him to eat, which he did while we were at the concert.
We got to the amphitheater just as the men started. A female barbershop quartet, See Jane Sing, was also part of the performance -- they did a few numbers. I was so impressed that Rachel remembered one of the old barbershop standards, which I hadn't. ("As soon as they started the chatting, I remembered!" she said.) She liked the women so much that she asked if she could give them money! When I told her it wasn't that kind of performance, she went up to them and (at my suggestion) told them that her Mommy sang with Pride of Portland, which apparently impressed the heck out of them. She got their autographs after their performance, as well as one of the men's, and I struck up a conversation with the women. They were very friendly and I realized how much I miss barbershop, but joining a chorus now is out of the question because I work nights (and, frankly, there really isn't a great one in this area).
Now, the men were terrible. And I mean, TERRIBLE. It was some of the most God-awful signing I've ever heard. The women were only slightly better by a teeny tiny margin. But you know what? As I was holding Rachel in my lap, exchanging kisses and slathered with bug spray, I closed my eyes and hoped I would remember the moment forever -- me and my little girl, on a warm (but not too hot) summer evening, listening to music outside. I hope she remembers, too.
Math girl
Drew and I almost got into an argument the other night about Rachel and math. Probably because of my math phobia, which started when I was in 5th grade and flunked Roman numerals (it took a fellow volunteer in Africa in 1992, a math whiz, to tell me, "Lisa, you understand that Roman numerals have NOTHING TO DO WITH MATH, don't you?"), I really want to push Rachel ahead of her class in math. She had been getting challenge math packets for a while, but then that stopped about a month or so ago, and when I remarked on it, Drew said casually, "I think the rest of the class caught up with her."
So the other night I told him that I don't want Rachel to be doing math at grade level, I wanted her to be doing math ahead of the other kids (like she is in reading). He replied strongly that he doesn't want to push her too much so that she'll end up hating it, and he reassured me that he intends to give her math worksheets throughout the summer so she won't lose any skills. I have to be content with that, I guess, since I'm not around at night to monitor things.
When I got home from work the other night, Drew gave me a strange look and said, "I don't think we have to worry about Rachel not doing well in math." Then he proceeded to tell me that as she was setting the table for dinner, she suddenly said, "I think I understand division. It's like multiplication, but backwards. So, 100 divided by 10 is 10."
As Drew told me later, "She definitely is able to grok math." So, I'll stop worrying. This week.
So the other night I told him that I don't want Rachel to be doing math at grade level, I wanted her to be doing math ahead of the other kids (like she is in reading). He replied strongly that he doesn't want to push her too much so that she'll end up hating it, and he reassured me that he intends to give her math worksheets throughout the summer so she won't lose any skills. I have to be content with that, I guess, since I'm not around at night to monitor things.
When I got home from work the other night, Drew gave me a strange look and said, "I don't think we have to worry about Rachel not doing well in math." Then he proceeded to tell me that as she was setting the table for dinner, she suddenly said, "I think I understand division. It's like multiplication, but backwards. So, 100 divided by 10 is 10."
As Drew told me later, "She definitely is able to grok math." So, I'll stop worrying. This week.
Responsible Rachel
Drew's friend Suzanne has a daughter, Jules, who is about to graduate from the University of Illinois with a degree in linguistics and head to China on a Fulbright scholarship (yay, Jules!). Today a package arrived from her, filled with all of her old Nancy Drew video games (I didn't know there was such a thing) and two lovely notes -- one for Rachel, one for me -- explaining that she was cleaning out her stuff and thought Rachel would like the games, and explaining that they didn't include any violence or sex, and that some of them started out easy but then became harder, and that she really enjoyed them, etc. It was such a lovely gesture that I was almost speechless.
Rachel was delighted and immediately -- without me prompting, while I was reading the note to me -- went to the study, got a thank-you card out of my desk, and immediately commenced writing a thank-you note to Jules, filled with details about how she loved reading Nancy Drew, and she loved Bess and George (two characters in the books, etc.). I was stunned by her sense of responsibility and gratified that she decided to write it ALL BY HERSELF.
Clearly, my work here is done.
Rachel was delighted and immediately -- without me prompting, while I was reading the note to me -- went to the study, got a thank-you card out of my desk, and immediately commenced writing a thank-you note to Jules, filled with details about how she loved reading Nancy Drew, and she loved Bess and George (two characters in the books, etc.). I was stunned by her sense of responsibility and gratified that she decided to write it ALL BY HERSELF.
Clearly, my work here is done.
All About Sparky
...we found this in one of Rachel's folders a few weeks ago and I've been dying to share it but haven't had time. Apparently Mrs. McAdam had the kids practice making books, with tables of contents, the story and illustrations. Rachel's was about a hamster named Sparky.
The Table of Contents:
1. All about Sparky
2. Diffrint Kinds of hamster fur.
3. How to keep a Hamser
4. My Diagram of a Hamster
5. Fun Facts!
The book opens with a picture of My dad and Me ("I can't wait to get a pet!") at the animal shelter. Below is the start of the story:
"Sparky Is an amassing pet! and he is pretty Easy to take care of. but there are some gross parts to. like for example: Its my Job to take out His poop. (Eeyou!) But still he is my pet and i love him. I got him from a anaml shelter.
How to Take care of a hamster
give It Food and Water.
Let it rest. and Make Shure Its cage I Lockt.
Let It Play
My Diagram of a hamster
Eyemussle, teeth, Feet, Eye, Eers, Body tail (in the proper places next to a drawing of an orange creature with blue and black eyes)
Fun Facts:
hamsters are Not socshible anaimls. unLike gunie Pigs.
hamsters Like to Spin on their Wheels. But how do thay Stay on?
Just writing this, I am chuckling. I hope you all have been entertained by Rachel's book.
The Table of Contents:
1. All about Sparky
2. Diffrint Kinds of hamster fur.
3. How to keep a Hamser
4. My Diagram of a Hamster
5. Fun Facts!
The book opens with a picture of My dad and Me ("I can't wait to get a pet!") at the animal shelter. Below is the start of the story:
"Sparky Is an amassing pet! and he is pretty Easy to take care of. but there are some gross parts to. like for example: Its my Job to take out His poop. (Eeyou!) But still he is my pet and i love him. I got him from a anaml shelter.
How to Take care of a hamster
give It Food and Water.
Let it rest. and Make Shure Its cage I Lockt.
Let It Play
My Diagram of a hamster
Eyemussle, teeth, Feet, Eye, Eers, Body tail (in the proper places next to a drawing of an orange creature with blue and black eyes)
Fun Facts:
hamsters are Not socshible anaimls. unLike gunie Pigs.
hamsters Like to Spin on their Wheels. But how do thay Stay on?
Just writing this, I am chuckling. I hope you all have been entertained by Rachel's book.
Early birthday wishes
One of the nice things that Rachel's teacher had all the kids do is to write her "warm fuzzes" for her birthday, since she won't be in school July 11. It's interesting what the kids had to say. A sample:
--"Dear Rachael, Happy birthday. I have a warm fuzzy for you. You are a bookworm, a lover of 'R' and very very very smart. Your friend James."
--"Happy birthday! you are nice. you are friendly. you are fun. Love, Gabby."
--"You are smily and a bookworm and smart."
--"You are nice. And always helps people."
--"You are a Bookworm. And a 'R' lover. and a Hard worker. Your friend, Dolan."
--"You are kind nice and funny. You are also cute. your friend, Trip."
--"You are a bookworm. you are Rachel. you are honest. you are nice. Sincerely, Gei."
--"you are nice, respectful, helpful, kind. Your friend, Daniel."
--"Dear Rachael, Happy birthday. I have a warm fuzzy for you. You are a bookworm, a lover of 'R' and very very very smart. Your friend James."
--"Happy birthday! you are nice. you are friendly. you are fun. Love, Gabby."
--"You are smily and a bookworm and smart."
--"You are nice. And always helps people."
--"You are a Bookworm. And a 'R' lover. and a Hard worker. Your friend, Dolan."
--"You are kind nice and funny. You are also cute. your friend, Trip."
--"You are a bookworm. you are Rachel. you are honest. you are nice. Sincerely, Gei."
--"you are nice, respectful, helpful, kind. Your friend, Daniel."
Final report card of 1st grade!
Rachel did quite well. Areas of strength include reading with understanding, shows growth in vocabulary, read independently and uses word recognition skills. In oral and written communication, an area of strength is expresses ideas clearly. In math, an area of strength is understanding concepts presented.
The one area that needs improvement: Organizes self/materials for habits under "work habits."
In the PALS reading and spelling tests (it's a test given to 1st graders to assess where their skills like), Rachel's spring scores were 44 for spelling (benchmark is 20; maximum is 48), but the more interesting scores were on the first- to sixth-grade word lists. She scored a 20, the maximum, on the 5th-grade word list and a 14 on the sixth-grade word list.
That means our girl is reading at a 5th-grade level, and can handle 6th-grade words, too.
On "oral reading in context," she scored 99 percent for accuracy, a 3 for fluency and a 6 for comprehension -- the highest scores possible -- and reads at 138 words per minute. She is also scoring at the top for instructional oral reading -- short vowels, nasals, blends, digraphs, etc.
She's pretty smart.
The comments were nice, too:
--From Mrs. McAdam: "It has been a privilege to be Rachel's teacher this year. I have enjoyed working with her. She is a smart, sweet and kind girl. Rachel made a lot of progress both socially and academically this year. She met all end of year benchmarks for reading and math. I would say to have Rachel continue to read throughout the summer, but I know she will never be without a book in her hand! Her appetite for reading is immense. I know Rachel is ready for all the challenges second grade will bring, but I'll miss asking with her about books and other connections she's made. Thank you for sharing her with us!
--From Sra. Marks, her Spanish teacher: "It has been a pleasure getting to know Rachel this year. She seems to enjoy the Spanish songs and most oral and written activities we do in class. Rachel is always prepared and respective of my rules. She enjoys learning new vocabulary and speaking in complete sentences in Spanish.
--From Mrs. Bonahoom, her art teacher: "Rachel has had a great quarter in art class. She impressed me with her quick understanding of how to sew. Her sun collage turned out beautifully. Rachel continues to explore new materials and techniques eagerly and works well with others."
The one area that needs improvement: Organizes self/materials for habits under "work habits."
In the PALS reading and spelling tests (it's a test given to 1st graders to assess where their skills like), Rachel's spring scores were 44 for spelling (benchmark is 20; maximum is 48), but the more interesting scores were on the first- to sixth-grade word lists. She scored a 20, the maximum, on the 5th-grade word list and a 14 on the sixth-grade word list.
That means our girl is reading at a 5th-grade level, and can handle 6th-grade words, too.
On "oral reading in context," she scored 99 percent for accuracy, a 3 for fluency and a 6 for comprehension -- the highest scores possible -- and reads at 138 words per minute. She is also scoring at the top for instructional oral reading -- short vowels, nasals, blends, digraphs, etc.
She's pretty smart.
The comments were nice, too:
--From Mrs. McAdam: "It has been a privilege to be Rachel's teacher this year. I have enjoyed working with her. She is a smart, sweet and kind girl. Rachel made a lot of progress both socially and academically this year. She met all end of year benchmarks for reading and math. I would say to have Rachel continue to read throughout the summer, but I know she will never be without a book in her hand! Her appetite for reading is immense. I know Rachel is ready for all the challenges second grade will bring, but I'll miss asking with her about books and other connections she's made. Thank you for sharing her with us!
--From Sra. Marks, her Spanish teacher: "It has been a pleasure getting to know Rachel this year. She seems to enjoy the Spanish songs and most oral and written activities we do in class. Rachel is always prepared and respective of my rules. She enjoys learning new vocabulary and speaking in complete sentences in Spanish.
--From Mrs. Bonahoom, her art teacher: "Rachel has had a great quarter in art class. She impressed me with her quick understanding of how to sew. Her sun collage turned out beautifully. Rachel continues to explore new materials and techniques eagerly and works well with others."
Sensitive little girl
Picked Rachel up from her third day of camp today, and she was upset for a couple of reasons: a) a 2nd-grader, Callie, who Rachel immediately bonded with on her first day, had made her a complicated friendship bracelet, but Rachel had cut off the ends too short and it didn't fit. "That's why you can't cut it too short," Callie said, crossly, and Rachel was devastated the whole day, convinced that she had lost Callie's friendship; b) They didn't get to go to the pool because the bus was late and c) Later, Rachel discovered that she didn't know where she had put a "friendship necklace" that Kira had given her. Kira had made her promise to wear it the first day of Summer Laureates, an academic enrichment program that they're both doing for three weeks in July, and Rachel had promised, and now she doesn't know where the necklace is and she started crying when she told me this tonight.
I promised to set aside time to help her find it, but her mind had already defaulted to how mad Kira was going to be. Because apparently Kira gets mad very easily.
She was so distressed that she went to Drew and told him that she wanted to tell one of the camp counselors NOT to choose her for "Camper of the Week" because she hadn't lived up to the 5 Y Camp Values. Drew, thank God, had a talk with her and told her that misplacing something is different from deliberately not caring about where her things are.
That kid is so hard on herself. More than I was at that age...
I promised to set aside time to help her find it, but her mind had already defaulted to how mad Kira was going to be. Because apparently Kira gets mad very easily.
She was so distressed that she went to Drew and told him that she wanted to tell one of the camp counselors NOT to choose her for "Camper of the Week" because she hadn't lived up to the 5 Y Camp Values. Drew, thank God, had a talk with her and told her that misplacing something is different from deliberately not caring about where her things are.
That kid is so hard on herself. More than I was at that age...
Organization Girl
This is what we wish we could call Rachel. She is organized about the stuff she wants to be organized about -- for instance, one day a week or so ago, she just decided to clean off the top of her desk, and it has been neat ever since.
Monday, the first day of cheer camp, was not one of those days.
Drew sent her off with a bag containing her bathing suit, towel, lunch holder, and a tube of sunscreen and bug spray. He and I should have emphasized to her that she had to make sure she had everything at the end of the day -- and labeled it. Instead, I picked her up, we came home, and the next day (Tuesday), Drew was horribly grumpy because he discovered that the sunscreen and bug spray were missing. Turns out that Rachel had left them in a cubby at the community center where the "Y" camp was being held, because she assumed that it was the same as school -- and why shouldn't she have? Anyway, Drew scolded her, then I did (more lightly) and then she burst into tears and went upstairs. I called her down (I had to get going to a doctor's appointment), and she was still crying, and when I asked her why she said, "Because I don't want to disappoint you!" I told her to stop crying, everything would be okay, and then I went to the doctor and then on to work.
By the time my shift ended at work, I felt terrible -- I really shouldn't have yelled at her, she didn't know any better, and I shouldn't have told her to stop crying (I read a review of "Inside Out," a new Disney movie set in the mind of an 11-year-old girl who finally tells her parents that they can't expect her to be happy all the time). But when I called Drew, he told me everything was fine; she had forgotten about it by the time he picked her up; she was sitting at a table with her bag and before he could even ask her, she reached inside and showed him that she had remembered everything.
It's times like these where I think, "Good parenting? Bad parenting?" It's up in the air.
Monday, the first day of cheer camp, was not one of those days.
Drew sent her off with a bag containing her bathing suit, towel, lunch holder, and a tube of sunscreen and bug spray. He and I should have emphasized to her that she had to make sure she had everything at the end of the day -- and labeled it. Instead, I picked her up, we came home, and the next day (Tuesday), Drew was horribly grumpy because he discovered that the sunscreen and bug spray were missing. Turns out that Rachel had left them in a cubby at the community center where the "Y" camp was being held, because she assumed that it was the same as school -- and why shouldn't she have? Anyway, Drew scolded her, then I did (more lightly) and then she burst into tears and went upstairs. I called her down (I had to get going to a doctor's appointment), and she was still crying, and when I asked her why she said, "Because I don't want to disappoint you!" I told her to stop crying, everything would be okay, and then I went to the doctor and then on to work.
By the time my shift ended at work, I felt terrible -- I really shouldn't have yelled at her, she didn't know any better, and I shouldn't have told her to stop crying (I read a review of "Inside Out," a new Disney movie set in the mind of an 11-year-old girl who finally tells her parents that they can't expect her to be happy all the time). But when I called Drew, he told me everything was fine; she had forgotten about it by the time he picked her up; she was sitting at a table with her bag and before he could even ask her, she reached inside and showed him that she had remembered everything.
It's times like these where I think, "Good parenting? Bad parenting?" It's up in the air.
Monday, June 22, 2015
Rachel the organizer
One of the things that was mentioned on Rachel's report card (more on that later) is that she needs to work on her organizational skills. It's true, she's not the most organized kid in the world -- although, as Drew points out, she's organized about stuff she cares to be organized about.
Tonight was one of those times. She insisted on dragging the huge bag of Girl Scout cookie rewards that her troop earned for selling lots and lots of cookies (Rachel sold the second-highest number of boxes, yay!) from my trunk and wanted to organize everything right away. I told her that she had to set the table and pick some basil for me for dinner and THEN she could start organizing. And she had to do everything in the study.
Well. She got right to work. On the study door she posted a sign, "Do Not Disturb! Sorting in progress." And then (at my suggestion) she made signs for each of the girls in the troop and divided up all the prizes (sunglasses, T-shirts, patches, etc.) into piles for each girl (there was a piece of paper that said what every girl had earned, and Rachel followed it to the letter).
After dinner Drew and I checked out the piles, which were quite neat and orderly, and Drew praised her profusely for her initiative. See, when she puts her mind to being focused and responsible, she can do anything.
Tonight was one of those times. She insisted on dragging the huge bag of Girl Scout cookie rewards that her troop earned for selling lots and lots of cookies (Rachel sold the second-highest number of boxes, yay!) from my trunk and wanted to organize everything right away. I told her that she had to set the table and pick some basil for me for dinner and THEN she could start organizing. And she had to do everything in the study.
Well. She got right to work. On the study door she posted a sign, "Do Not Disturb! Sorting in progress." And then (at my suggestion) she made signs for each of the girls in the troop and divided up all the prizes (sunglasses, T-shirts, patches, etc.) into piles for each girl (there was a piece of paper that said what every girl had earned, and Rachel followed it to the letter).
After dinner Drew and I checked out the piles, which were quite neat and orderly, and Drew praised her profusely for her initiative. See, when she puts her mind to being focused and responsible, she can do anything.
Cheer camp
Rachel's long camp odyssey has begun -- she is in camp almost every week this summer except when we're on vacation. Today was the first day of camp (school ended Friday, June 19) -- and it's, um, cheer camp because she prevailed upon Drew to sign her up.
She learned the basic cheer jump -- high, with legs split -- and the various hand positions. It's a Y camp, so they do swimming, too, and their extended-day program runs until 6:30 (a godsend to me today because I had to pick up the Girl Scout cookie rewards and pick her up). Extended day has two fun options: Activities or reading in the gym; art in the cafeteria.
When she saw me (I got there a little early), Rachel came tearing down the hall and jumped into my arms. I swung her around and hugged her and kissed her multiple times, as she did me. In fact, the whole evening she seemed unusually cheerful, probably because it was a weeknight and Mommy was home for dinner, a rare occurrence at our house!
She learned the basic cheer jump -- high, with legs split -- and the various hand positions. It's a Y camp, so they do swimming, too, and their extended-day program runs until 6:30 (a godsend to me today because I had to pick up the Girl Scout cookie rewards and pick her up). Extended day has two fun options: Activities or reading in the gym; art in the cafeteria.
When she saw me (I got there a little early), Rachel came tearing down the hall and jumped into my arms. I swung her around and hugged her and kissed her multiple times, as she did me. In fact, the whole evening she seemed unusually cheerful, probably because it was a weeknight and Mommy was home for dinner, a rare occurrence at our house!
Sidney, Part 2,000
Rachel informed us tonight that she had something to tell us, "but you can't tell anyone, guys, okay?"
We promised.
"Sidney doesn't like you," she said. "She says you're mean."
When we asked her why, she said, "Because you make her have manners and you don't hug her."
Well, that's not true -- Sidney isn't the most huggable child, and, anyway, she doesn't ever try to hug me. But it's true, I'm strict around her. When I'm talking to Rachel and Sidney tries to butt in, I usually look at her sternly and say, "Not now, Sidney, I'm talking to Rachel."
Or maybe it's that we're not as permissive as her mom seems to be. Either way it doesn't matter -- and Drew told as much to Rachel, saying he doesn't care whether Sidney likes him or not.
"The only thing that matters is if YOU like her," I said, and that ended the discussion.
We promised.
"Sidney doesn't like you," she said. "She says you're mean."
When we asked her why, she said, "Because you make her have manners and you don't hug her."
Well, that's not true -- Sidney isn't the most huggable child, and, anyway, she doesn't ever try to hug me. But it's true, I'm strict around her. When I'm talking to Rachel and Sidney tries to butt in, I usually look at her sternly and say, "Not now, Sidney, I'm talking to Rachel."
Or maybe it's that we're not as permissive as her mom seems to be. Either way it doesn't matter -- and Drew told as much to Rachel, saying he doesn't care whether Sidney likes him or not.
"The only thing that matters is if YOU like her," I said, and that ended the discussion.
Auntie Ruth's in town!
Father's Day was made even more special this year because we got to have brunch with Aunt Ruth! She was in town to visit Uncle Dan (who is doing much better, thank goodness, and I predict he'll be out of rehab before the month is out) and graciously agreed to join us for a Father's Day buffet brunch at a tavern near our house that just happens to have a great brunch -- Drew and I discovered it on the last day of Hebrew school for Rachel, but we plan to go there more often once Hebrew school starts up again in the fall.
We had a long talk about the major film festival Ruth pulled off; about my job and my foot issues; about her friends and family; and about family stuff. Finally poor Rachel said meekly, "I am SO HOT." We had been sitting outside in the shade but it was still quite warm, and so we all decided to go back to the air-conditioned house while Drew zipped out to Trader Joe's for my weekly lunch salads. Rachel immediately went upstairs to read and I propped my foot up and stretched it out on the couch while Ruth and I talked. She left around the time Drew and Rachel took off to buy her a new bathing suit (she really needs one, and they took my suggestion to buy two suits) and I headed in to work. What a lovely day, and how wonderful it was to get to spend a relaxing morning with Ruth!
We had a long talk about the major film festival Ruth pulled off; about my job and my foot issues; about her friends and family; and about family stuff. Finally poor Rachel said meekly, "I am SO HOT." We had been sitting outside in the shade but it was still quite warm, and so we all decided to go back to the air-conditioned house while Drew zipped out to Trader Joe's for my weekly lunch salads. Rachel immediately went upstairs to read and I propped my foot up and stretched it out on the couch while Ruth and I talked. She left around the time Drew and Rachel took off to buy her a new bathing suit (she really needs one, and they took my suggestion to buy two suits) and I headed in to work. What a lovely day, and how wonderful it was to get to spend a relaxing morning with Ruth!
Pool Time!
It's hard to believe that Rachel was ever hesitant in the water. I never get to see her in swim lessons, but apparently a switch has gone off in her brain because she begged us to take her to Upton Hills Saturday and I could barely get her out of the water! Drew had a bunch of errands to run, as well as get his hair cut, so Rachel and I hung out at the pool from 1 p.m. to around 5:30 before Drew came back. She insisted I stay in the pool the entire time, even though I was scared for my foot (I'm in a boot until the end of this week) and the pool was really crowded.
She now does belly flops, an approximation of a cannonball, and swims back and forth underneath the rope. I taught her how to breathe out of her nose instead of in while underwater and she said it really made a difference. We played multiple rounds of Marco Polo, made up some games (how long we could clutch our knees to our chests underwater before our legs collapsed; Three Questions about what color, animal, etc. that the other one was thinking about).
At one point I got out of the water to rest. Rachel pouted and asked to call Daddy. "I feel like you don't want to spend time with me," she said plaintively, and I reminded her that I had raced back the night before just so I could have dinner with her, and that I'd spent most of the day in the pool with her and that I LOVED spending time with her (although by that time, I was really wanting to just chill out and read the paper). We went back in (it was about the fourth time by then), and then she asked to get out and rest for a while -- and then Drew showed up. He immediately went in with her, and I leaned my head back on a lounge chair, closed my eyes and took a mini-nap. At that point it started to rain, so we gathered up our things, went back to the house and changed for dinner.
When we went out to a Thai place near our house that Drew wanted to try, the skies really opened up and it POURED. Hard, driving rain that I missed all those years living in Oregon. Luckily it stopped just long enough for us to get ice cream at Toby's, our local ice cream parlor -- and then when we got home, it began storming again, enough to light up the sky so bright that from the study it looked like someone had turned on a light switch outside. Rachel was totally unfazed, thank goodness.
She now does belly flops, an approximation of a cannonball, and swims back and forth underneath the rope. I taught her how to breathe out of her nose instead of in while underwater and she said it really made a difference. We played multiple rounds of Marco Polo, made up some games (how long we could clutch our knees to our chests underwater before our legs collapsed; Three Questions about what color, animal, etc. that the other one was thinking about).
At one point I got out of the water to rest. Rachel pouted and asked to call Daddy. "I feel like you don't want to spend time with me," she said plaintively, and I reminded her that I had raced back the night before just so I could have dinner with her, and that I'd spent most of the day in the pool with her and that I LOVED spending time with her (although by that time, I was really wanting to just chill out and read the paper). We went back in (it was about the fourth time by then), and then she asked to get out and rest for a while -- and then Drew showed up. He immediately went in with her, and I leaned my head back on a lounge chair, closed my eyes and took a mini-nap. At that point it started to rain, so we gathered up our things, went back to the house and changed for dinner.
When we went out to a Thai place near our house that Drew wanted to try, the skies really opened up and it POURED. Hard, driving rain that I missed all those years living in Oregon. Luckily it stopped just long enough for us to get ice cream at Toby's, our local ice cream parlor -- and then when we got home, it began storming again, enough to light up the sky so bright that from the study it looked like someone had turned on a light switch outside. Rachel was totally unfazed, thank goodness.
Mommy's long day...
On Friday, I had a nightmarish day -- I had to get up at 5:30 a.m. (after going to bed around 12:30 the night before after getting home from work) to drive 2 1/2 hours to Mechanicsburg, Pa., to do some interviews for the next story I'm working on for The Post. I stayed for a few hours, then started driving to Frederick, Md., for more interviews on the same story (before which I pulled off at a shopping center to do a phone interview for another story I was working on that was due today). I stopped at a farm stand and bought some raspberries and strawberries as a surprise for Drew and Rachel because we had run out of breakfast fruit, pulled in Frederick, did my interview, and when it was over I got into my car (at 6:20 p.m.) and said, "Whew! Now I can sleep."
I raced home to surprise Rachel; I had told her not to expect me until midday Saturday. Arriving home, I found her to be in quite a state. She and Drew had gone to Upton Hills, the swim park near our house, to swim and play mini-golf. While they were playing mini-golf, Rachel somehow slid down a hill and got herself covered mud -- so much so that Drew had to take her home and, literally, hose her off in the tub. Apparently she was wailing and so upset with herself -- "I hate myself!" she told him at one point -- and by the time I got upstairs I heard her say plaintively, "Daddy, you're the only person who understands me." His answer sounded very comforting, something along the lines of "I'm older than you, and I've lived a lot more years."
She burst into tears upon seeing me, and hugged me and hugged me until we got to her room and I sat on the bed and cuddled with her until she calmed down. When she started weeping again I gently told her to stop, that everything was fine, Mommy was home and we all needed to go to dinner -- so we went to the Silver Diner, one of our favorite places, had a great meal and then Carvel for dessert.
And then I slept for 10 hours straight. So all in all, it was a good day.
I raced home to surprise Rachel; I had told her not to expect me until midday Saturday. Arriving home, I found her to be in quite a state. She and Drew had gone to Upton Hills, the swim park near our house, to swim and play mini-golf. While they were playing mini-golf, Rachel somehow slid down a hill and got herself covered mud -- so much so that Drew had to take her home and, literally, hose her off in the tub. Apparently she was wailing and so upset with herself -- "I hate myself!" she told him at one point -- and by the time I got upstairs I heard her say plaintively, "Daddy, you're the only person who understands me." His answer sounded very comforting, something along the lines of "I'm older than you, and I've lived a lot more years."
She burst into tears upon seeing me, and hugged me and hugged me until we got to her room and I sat on the bed and cuddled with her until she calmed down. When she started weeping again I gently told her to stop, that everything was fine, Mommy was home and we all needed to go to dinner -- so we went to the Silver Diner, one of our favorite places, had a great meal and then Carvel for dessert.
And then I slept for 10 hours straight. So all in all, it was a good day.
And speaking of money...
Rachel is a pretty savvy kid. A couple of weeks ago, a boy she knew asked her to get off the swings so he could take a turn -- or maybe he wanted to do something else on the playground, I can't remember -- and she said no. "I'll give you a dollar," he said. She said no. "I'll give you $5," he said, and she said no. "I'll give you $10," he said, and she said no. Then he upped the offer to $20.
"Okay," Rachel said. "But give me the money first."
He refused. I have no fear anymore that she'll be talked into anything nefarious involving money. She's too street smart, although I have no idea where she gets this from because we live in the suburbs, after all...
"Okay," Rachel said. "But give me the money first."
He refused. I have no fear anymore that she'll be talked into anything nefarious involving money. She's too street smart, although I have no idea where she gets this from because we live in the suburbs, after all...
Car shopping
The day after the outdoor Shabbat services (Saturday, June 13), we went on one of our periodic outings to find a good used car for me, since my Altima -- much as I've loved it -- is 16 years old and technically illegal, since to get new plates I'd need to pass inspection, which would cost $3,000 + and that is more than the car is worth at this point, so I'm struggling along for the next few months after paying $300 recently in emergency repairs JUST SO I CAN KEEP THIS DAMN VEHICLE RUNNING UNTIL I CAN RID MYSELF OF IT FOREVER.
Anyway...Drew and I looked at Toyotas while Rachel was at a community center pool with her friend, Simone. Then we picked her up and drove her to a good-bye party for her classmate, Noah, whose parents are Air Force pilots and are moving to Little Rock, Ark. for three years while they both get to fly again (they'd been working at the Pentagon). We looked at a used Toyota, which I liked, and then it was time to pick up Rachel and head back home for family movie night.
On Sunday we went with Rachel to a Nissan dealer in Fairfax. Since I didn't have my license with me (turns out I had mistakenly left it in the Toyota, but Drew picked it up for me Monday because I was on deadline for a story), the dealer sat in the car with use during a test drive. I really liked the car but it was way out of my price range, so I'm going to another Nissan dealer soon in Alexandria to see if I can do better there.
On the way back from the test drive (Drew and Rachel drove me in to work), Drew was explaining the finer points of car pricing -- how you decide what price YOU want to pay for the car, and work with the dealer to come up with a fair price, rather than letting the dealer set the terms of the discussion.
All of a sudden, a little voice piped up from the back seat: "And bargain, bargain, bargain!" Yeah, this kid is definitely growing up knowing the value of money!
Anyway...Drew and I looked at Toyotas while Rachel was at a community center pool with her friend, Simone. Then we picked her up and drove her to a good-bye party for her classmate, Noah, whose parents are Air Force pilots and are moving to Little Rock, Ark. for three years while they both get to fly again (they'd been working at the Pentagon). We looked at a used Toyota, which I liked, and then it was time to pick up Rachel and head back home for family movie night.
On Sunday we went with Rachel to a Nissan dealer in Fairfax. Since I didn't have my license with me (turns out I had mistakenly left it in the Toyota, but Drew picked it up for me Monday because I was on deadline for a story), the dealer sat in the car with use during a test drive. I really liked the car but it was way out of my price range, so I'm going to another Nissan dealer soon in Alexandria to see if I can do better there.
On the way back from the test drive (Drew and Rachel drove me in to work), Drew was explaining the finer points of car pricing -- how you decide what price YOU want to pay for the car, and work with the dealer to come up with a fair price, rather than letting the dealer set the terms of the discussion.
All of a sudden, a little voice piped up from the back seat: "And bargain, bargain, bargain!" Yeah, this kid is definitely growing up knowing the value of money!
Outdoor Shabbat
One of the nice traditions that our former synagogue, Congregation Beth Israel, had was to hold Shabbat services outdoors in the summer -- twice in July and twice in August. The services were on a grassy plaza below the front doors, and the rabbi would play the guitar, we'd bring a blanket and a picnic dinner and have the service and then eat (and usually get ice cream or cupcakes afterward). I'd been sorely missing that since we moved to D.C. at the end of 2013 (can it really be almost two years since we left Oregon?)
Our new synagogue, Rodef Shalom, is much bigger and more impersonal (although they do try hard to be friendly and welcoming), and this year they came up with the idea of holding outdoor Shabbat in "Bunny's Playground," a woodsy area near the building. I immediately signed Rachel and I up. The evening included dinner, a bouncy house and various games and started at 5:30, meaning that she and I could go but Drew couldn't make it except for the service.
I picked Rachel up from school a little early, but unfortunately not in enough time to go to the swim park and the service since she wanted to finish an art project at extended day at school. She got over her disappointment quickly, though, especially when I told her there'd be GAMES at synagogue. And indeed there were! She went straight to the bouncy house and the bouncy slide and through a tent that had been outfitted with water sprays so that everyone who went through it got a mist of cold water (I even went through, because it was a very hot day). Best thing there: ADULT BEVERAGES! There was a daiquiri and a margarita machine, and I ordered multiple margaritas (they came in small cups) and so by the time dinner was served, I had a pleasant buzz on.
Dinner was steak and chicken fajitas, and, amazingly, Rachel had a tortilla and some steak. Before the service could start, though, the skies opened up and it POURED. Poor Drew got wet walking from the train to his car, so he stopped home and changed before arriving at the service, which was held inside. It was a pretty raucous service -- one of the rabbis punched a beach ball into the audience during the closing song, and we took turns knocking it around (Rachel got to take it home for some reason, and it is sitting next to me in the office as I type this) -- and there were fudgsicles and ice cream sandwiches for dessert! What a fantastic time. I didn't even mind the rain.
Our new synagogue, Rodef Shalom, is much bigger and more impersonal (although they do try hard to be friendly and welcoming), and this year they came up with the idea of holding outdoor Shabbat in "Bunny's Playground," a woodsy area near the building. I immediately signed Rachel and I up. The evening included dinner, a bouncy house and various games and started at 5:30, meaning that she and I could go but Drew couldn't make it except for the service.
I picked Rachel up from school a little early, but unfortunately not in enough time to go to the swim park and the service since she wanted to finish an art project at extended day at school. She got over her disappointment quickly, though, especially when I told her there'd be GAMES at synagogue. And indeed there were! She went straight to the bouncy house and the bouncy slide and through a tent that had been outfitted with water sprays so that everyone who went through it got a mist of cold water (I even went through, because it was a very hot day). Best thing there: ADULT BEVERAGES! There was a daiquiri and a margarita machine, and I ordered multiple margaritas (they came in small cups) and so by the time dinner was served, I had a pleasant buzz on.
Dinner was steak and chicken fajitas, and, amazingly, Rachel had a tortilla and some steak. Before the service could start, though, the skies opened up and it POURED. Poor Drew got wet walking from the train to his car, so he stopped home and changed before arriving at the service, which was held inside. It was a pretty raucous service -- one of the rabbis punched a beach ball into the audience during the closing song, and we took turns knocking it around (Rachel got to take it home for some reason, and it is sitting next to me in the office as I type this) -- and there were fudgsicles and ice cream sandwiches for dessert! What a fantastic time. I didn't even mind the rain.
Fun with Grandma and Grandpa!
We had a great time almost three weeks ago when Grandma and Grandpa came to visit! So much went on, let's see if I can remember:
--Mom, Dad and I met for lunch at a restaurant in Arlington called Willow. Took Mom there via wheelchair and had a lovely time with a lot of laughing about how GPS is impossible to use in the D.C. area and Dad said he and Mom almost ended up in Kentucky. "But I LIKE Kentucky," Mom said cheerfully, "they have horses there." Cracked up and couldn't stop laughing! Then we left the restaurant and sat in the courtyard of the hotel, with Mom unspooling her droll observations about people walking by. It was really a great afternoon, and I was sorry to leave but I had to prepare dinner for Mom, Dad, Drew, Rachel, and a couple around Mom and Dad's age, Mike and Carole, who I'd invited. Mike taught Drew at Columbia and I had worked with him at Willamette, and we try to keep in touch because he lives part of the year in Potomac and partly in Oregon. We manage to have them over for dinner a couple of times a year.
--The dinner was rack of lamb with herbs from our garden, popovers, asparagus with hollandaise sauce and pound cake drizzled with bittersweet chocolate sauce, whipped cream, strawberries and mint. All was homemade -- the strawberries and herbs from our garden -- and even though the preparations were quite extensive (I used the good china and silver, linen napkins, tablecloth and crystal), it was worth it. Everyone got along well, Rachel as usual charmed Mike and Carole, and Mike and Carole ended up staying for a while after Mom and Dad left. Really, it was a wonderful evening.
--On Saturday, we all met at the pool at Mom and Dad's hotel, where Rachel got to impress Grandma and Grandpa with her swimming skills and ease in the water (and Grandpa impressed us with gamely playing "cops and robbers" at Rachel's suggestion, for probably longer than he wanted to:)). Then we all went to visit Uncle Dan in the hospital, where he had landed after a heart issue. He seemed to really appreciate having us all there, and we had a nice time talking to him and to Ruth on my cellphone.
--Saturday night I took all of us to a lovely restaurant in Arlington called "Water and Wall," which has a great reputation (although no bread service, and we got a good laugh out of the hard little chips they served us to alleviate our pre-dinner hunger pangs). The food was great and we all had a good time together.
--On Sunday, Rachel had her Daisy Scouts party at Upton Hills pool, the outdoor pool/mini-golf/batting cage complex that is a 5-minute drive from our house, so Drew and I met Mom and Dad for what we thought would be a quick breakfast, but luckily they stayed long enough for us all to have a good talk sans child. We said goodbye around noon and picked Rachel up from her party -- and that was the end of the weekend with Grandma and Grandpa. So great to see them! Hope they come back soon...
--Mom, Dad and I met for lunch at a restaurant in Arlington called Willow. Took Mom there via wheelchair and had a lovely time with a lot of laughing about how GPS is impossible to use in the D.C. area and Dad said he and Mom almost ended up in Kentucky. "But I LIKE Kentucky," Mom said cheerfully, "they have horses there." Cracked up and couldn't stop laughing! Then we left the restaurant and sat in the courtyard of the hotel, with Mom unspooling her droll observations about people walking by. It was really a great afternoon, and I was sorry to leave but I had to prepare dinner for Mom, Dad, Drew, Rachel, and a couple around Mom and Dad's age, Mike and Carole, who I'd invited. Mike taught Drew at Columbia and I had worked with him at Willamette, and we try to keep in touch because he lives part of the year in Potomac and partly in Oregon. We manage to have them over for dinner a couple of times a year.
--The dinner was rack of lamb with herbs from our garden, popovers, asparagus with hollandaise sauce and pound cake drizzled with bittersweet chocolate sauce, whipped cream, strawberries and mint. All was homemade -- the strawberries and herbs from our garden -- and even though the preparations were quite extensive (I used the good china and silver, linen napkins, tablecloth and crystal), it was worth it. Everyone got along well, Rachel as usual charmed Mike and Carole, and Mike and Carole ended up staying for a while after Mom and Dad left. Really, it was a wonderful evening.
--On Saturday, we all met at the pool at Mom and Dad's hotel, where Rachel got to impress Grandma and Grandpa with her swimming skills and ease in the water (and Grandpa impressed us with gamely playing "cops and robbers" at Rachel's suggestion, for probably longer than he wanted to:)). Then we all went to visit Uncle Dan in the hospital, where he had landed after a heart issue. He seemed to really appreciate having us all there, and we had a nice time talking to him and to Ruth on my cellphone.
--Saturday night I took all of us to a lovely restaurant in Arlington called "Water and Wall," which has a great reputation (although no bread service, and we got a good laugh out of the hard little chips they served us to alleviate our pre-dinner hunger pangs). The food was great and we all had a good time together.
--On Sunday, Rachel had her Daisy Scouts party at Upton Hills pool, the outdoor pool/mini-golf/batting cage complex that is a 5-minute drive from our house, so Drew and I met Mom and Dad for what we thought would be a quick breakfast, but luckily they stayed long enough for us all to have a good talk sans child. We said goodbye around noon and picked Rachel up from her party -- and that was the end of the weekend with Grandma and Grandpa. So great to see them! Hope they come back soon...
How best to annoy Rachel
Singing at dinner! I had today off, and so I got to make a lovely dinner of basil (from our garden), cherry tomatoes, garlic and spaghetti. We added rosemary-and-sea salt bread from Safeway, salad, and it was a perfect meal -- I even resurrected the pound cake with chocolate sauce and whipped cream that I made for a dinner party two weeks ago.
Rachel was goofing around and exclaimed, "Hey, what's cooking?" To which Drew and I replied by starting to sing, "Hey, good lookin'. What ya got cookin'? How about cookin' something up with me?"
This was a song I sang to her a lot when she was a toddler and I commuted to Salem with her, the year Drew was in New York.
It didn't matter. She clamped her hands to her ears and howled in protest.
"Do you know how LUCKY you are to have parents who sing??" I told her.
"Not OLD FOLK SONGS!!" she exclaimed.
Drew and I burst out laughing, and we couldn't explain to her why we found it so funny.
Rachel was goofing around and exclaimed, "Hey, what's cooking?" To which Drew and I replied by starting to sing, "Hey, good lookin'. What ya got cookin'? How about cookin' something up with me?"
This was a song I sang to her a lot when she was a toddler and I commuted to Salem with her, the year Drew was in New York.
It didn't matter. She clamped her hands to her ears and howled in protest.
"Do you know how LUCKY you are to have parents who sing??" I told her.
"Not OLD FOLK SONGS!!" she exclaimed.
Drew and I burst out laughing, and we couldn't explain to her why we found it so funny.
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