Perfectionist?

While Drew was walking Rachel around the synagogue during last night's service, he tried to help her up the stairs and the ramp at the side entrance. She shook off his hand as if to say, "Daddy, I need to figure it out MYSELF."

More and more it seems that she takes her time to do things until she can do them really well. Could she be a budding perfectionist, like her mommy?

Hanukkah service

We had a lovely time at synagogue last night, even if I DID end up with a $150 parking ticket for parking in front of a fire hydrant because there were no parking spaces outside of daycare even though I left in plenty of time but there was traffic and it was almost 6 and so...I ended up with a ticket.

But I digress.

Rachel looked adorable in her party outfit, the same one she wore at Thanksgiving. We sat next to a woman and her two kids, one of whom is 7 and one who is younger. The woman, Sarah, was very nice and I was sort of able to have a conversation with her while feeding Rachel sweet potatoes out of a jar (although she did very well on her own, eating half the jar herself)!

Rachel didn't even have a booster seat! She sat in a folding chair, drinking her water from a sippy cup and putting it carefully on the table in front of her. Drew handled most of dinner while I got latkes, beef and chicken; then I got another plate of food for him and fed Rachel while he ate. The Little Girl was really well-behaved.

The service was fantastic -- Cantor Ida Rae Cahana, the rabbi's wife who substituted for the usual cantor, walked down the center aisle of the darkened candle and singing a Hanukkah hymn. Rachel was fascinated by the proceedings and just stood and watched. Then she even sat in a cushioned pew for a while until she got restless and Drew walked her around. The rabbi told a great story about a man who conquered some Hanukkah goblins who had invaded a village and prevented the villagers from celebrating the holiday. Drew thought it was the most interesting Hanukkah story he had ever heard. It was written by a local author and we will try to get the book for next year, when Rachel will be old enough to understand.

While I was getting food for Drew, Sarah asked if she could give Drew some parenting advice. Sure, he said.

"Discipline your kids early," she said. "I didn't, and now it's really hard."

I also read in Parenting magazine that one of the secret of happy families is to express gratitude a lot. In our house, Drew and I tend to thank each other a lot for little things: Making the bed, doing the shopping, cleaning up Rachel's toys, putting her down for the night. We thank each other in front of her, and we thank her when she is helpful -- handing us the food she doesn't want to eat, wiggling out of her coat when we get home, handing us her shoes to put on her feet. We hope this sticks.

And when she does something we don't like, we're sure to tell her. She can tell by the tone of our voices when we're displeased and she screws up her face and cries - whereupon we repeat the lesson, then give her a quick cuddle to reassure her we still love her. Then it's on to being sunny again.

Happy Hanukkah!

...Rachel decided to surprise us yesterday with an early Hanukkah gift. I had come home late after exercising, and Drew was reading her some books. "Let's go say hi to mama!" I heard him say.

Obama's Nobel speech was playing loudly on the radio, and I thought Drew was referring to something in the speech when he exclaimed, all of a sudden, "Did you HEAR that?"

Then he brought her in to the living room, snuggled up in his arms. She looked at me, gave a shy smile and said softly, "HI!"

"HI?" "HI!"

"Uh, hi, honey," I said weakly.

"It's all downhill tonight from here," I told Drew.

Helpful Rachel, Part III

Drew spilled something on the kitchen floor last night while I was out shopping for Hanukkah gifts (Tia Daniella, Jojo & Valerie: Yours will arrive next week. Promise!). He said that while he was cleaning up, Rachel reached down, picked up a crumb and handed it to him, as if she was trying to help out! He thanked her profusely.

I read a story in the Science section of the NY Times a couple of weeks ago that said kids as young as 18 months old will help a grownup they think is in distress or need assistance. Apparently, kids may be born with an "empathy gene"! Isn't that great? I hope that, with Rachel, it never gets squashed by the selfishness gene.

She seems to have developed a cadre of boyfriends at daycare. A few weeks ago, she tried to hold the hand of Declan. A few days ago, her daily report said she enjoyed spending time in the playhouse "with Ryan at her side."

Drew was none too happy. "She can date when I'm dead," he says.

Pobrecita...

Rachel woke up in the middle of the night -- 12:45 a.m., to be exact -- after a bout of coughing. Drew heard her; I was in a dead sleep after taking NyQuil to finally zap this cold and laryngitis thing I've picked up.

Drew opened the bedroom door and said, "Uh, Lisa? We have a problem. Rachel threw up all over her mattress."

I was out of bed in a shot. I lifted up her fitted sheet, threw it in the hamper and wiped the mattress with a sponge (not much had soaked through, although I was so zonked out on the medicine that I couldn't really tell). Drew, meanwhile, had drawn a warm bath for Rachel and sponged the vomit off her face.

"Her mattress still smells," I told Drew. "What should I spray it with?"
"Lysol," he suggested.

So, I did, and then held her while he put the bed back together. She was very quiet, wrapped in her sunflower towel, while I gently rocked her. Then Drew told me to get back to bed while he put her down.

She ended up sleeping until 10 a.m.! I'm glad Drew didn't wake her up. At daycare, Teacher Karen said there's a 24-hour bug going around. For some reason it has affected mostly boys, who were out today, leaving the toddler girls to rule.

Apples & Cha

"Cha" is Rachel's name for "challah." Our conversation tonight went something like this:

Me: Sweetie, do you want some challah?
Rachel: Chaaaa.....
Me: Can you say challah? Challah?
Rachel: Cha!

Later, when fed her some apple slices, I said, "Rachel, this is an APPLE. Can you say APPLE?"
Rachel (softly): Ap-pel.
Me: Did you say apple?
Rachel: App-fttt.
Me: AP-PLE.
Rachel: App-ffttt.

We're getting there, folks!

Brrr.....

Yes, it is absolutely freezing here. The hat you see in this picture stayed on for, oh, about as long as it took me to shoot Rachel in it. (she is a total ham in front of the camera!). Then she snatched it off and tossed it to the floor. Not that I minded -- it's too small for her anyway!

I had to reprimand her tonight for throwing her Legos to the floor, since she was standing up when she did so and one of them hit me. "Rachel," I said sternly. She looked away. "Rachel!" I said. "You hurt Mommy." Then I turned her around. "Rachel, look at me. You hurt Mommy. You can't throw blocks when you're near people."

She burst into tears. I took her in my lap and cuddled her, all the while saying, "You can't throw blocks when people are around, sweetie."

Drew later asked if I thought she cried because I had scolded her or because she was truly sorry she clonked me. The former, I replied.

Hey, all you moms out there: Did I handle that OK?