That's what Rachel yells out every night after we turn into our street. She LOVES the Christmas lights.
"Christmas tree!" she said delightedly last night.
"Look dere," she said. "And dere! And dere!'
"Do you see it? Do you see it??" she demanded tonight.
Oh, what a delight awaits her this weekend. I'm going to take her to the Grotto, a Christmas light extravaganza, with Linda and the kids. And then when Drew gets home, we'll take Rachel to Zoolights -- the Oregon Zoo, all lit up, and we can take a choo-choo ride around the zoo, and see all the animals, and Mommy will make sure to pack homemade hot chocolate in a warm Thermos so the outing will be cozy and warm...
I was talking to Drew as I took an extra turn around the block tonight and he remarked how wonderful it is that Rachel is discovering everything for the first time, and I seconded that, saying that now I finally understand (now that Rachel is old enough to actually take joy in something) when parents say that children remind us how to have fun and we get to find out everything again through their eyes.
It reminded me of a story a former colleague with a daughter about Rachel's age posted on Facebook not long ago. Helen was driving Tessa home from preschool, and Tessa was hungry, and Helen fished around in her purse and came up with two broken-up cookies. "Moon cookies!" Tessa said delightedly. No, she didn't notice that the cookies were broken. She just saw what she wanted to see.
"That's why I love my daughter with all my heart," Helen wrote, and I couldn't agree more.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Monday, December 6, 2010
"Because WHY?"
Yes, we've entered that exasperating phase of toddler-hood when statements start to be followed by, "Because WHY?" Drew is lucky he doesn't have to deal with most of it because he's so far away.
I have taught Rachel to expect the reply, "because I LOVE you" when her questions get too plentiful. And now she uses that phrase sometimes herself!
Here was tonight's conversation in the car as we approached the Terwillger Curves:
Me: Mommy's tired, Rachel.
Rachel: Because why?
Me: Because I was up late last night.
Rachel: Because why?
Me: Because a documentary film crew was interviewing me for a film they're making on the state of journalism today. (No, I am not making this up).
Rachel: Because why?
Me: Because they heard I was unjustly fired and they wanted to talk to me about it.
Rachel: Because why?
Me: Because it was a huge blow that changed my life to the way it is today.
Rachel: Oh.
I have taught Rachel to expect the reply, "because I LOVE you" when her questions get too plentiful. And now she uses that phrase sometimes herself!
Here was tonight's conversation in the car as we approached the Terwillger Curves:
Me: Mommy's tired, Rachel.
Rachel: Because why?
Me: Because I was up late last night.
Rachel: Because why?
Me: Because a documentary film crew was interviewing me for a film they're making on the state of journalism today. (No, I am not making this up).
Rachel: Because why?
Me: Because they heard I was unjustly fired and they wanted to talk to me about it.
Rachel: Because why?
Me: Because it was a huge blow that changed my life to the way it is today.
Rachel: Oh.
The Hanukkah song
This post is in honor of Mom and Dad, who taught us a great upbeat Hanukkah song in Yiddish that we sang every night of Hanukkah when we were kids, and even well into adulthood. I won't even make an attempt at transliteration, but it ends with three cheers of, "Hip hip hooray for the Maccabees!"
This was the first year that Rachel really appreciated it. She LOVES this song. As I was lighting the 6th candle tonight, she actually started saying the prayer with me! She insists that we turn the lights off when I light the menorah and keep them off when we eat dinner. And when I start singing the Hanukkah song her face lights up, she starts smiling and laughing, and at the end she exclaims, "Sing it AGAIN!"
This was the first year that Rachel really appreciated it. She LOVES this song. As I was lighting the 6th candle tonight, she actually started saying the prayer with me! She insists that we turn the lights off when I light the menorah and keep them off when we eat dinner. And when I start singing the Hanukkah song her face lights up, she starts smiling and laughing, and at the end she exclaims, "Sing it AGAIN!"
"No, I'M..."
Rachel's newest habit is saying SHE likes/SHE feels/SHE wants if I express interest/wants/needs desires. So our morning commute today went something like this:
Rachel said something to make me laugh -- can't for the life of me remember what it was -- and I said, "You're funny, Rachel!"
"No, I'M funny," she said.
"No, I'M funny," I said.
"No, I'M funny."
"No, I'M funny!"
"No, I'M funny!"
"We funny together," she concluded.
***
She is becoming quite the singer. Tonight, as I was talking to a friend on my Smartphone, Rachel started SINGING to herself in the backseat! She started with "Rise and Shine" and moved on to a couple of other songs.
"I like hearing you sing," I told her at the dinner table later on.
"I like your earrings," she replied (I didn't have any on at the time).
Thinking she hadn't heard me correctly, I said, "I like hearing you SING, Rachel!"
"I like your earrings," she repeated.
Hopefully she'll get the idea that I'd rather hear her sing than listen to my own voice all the time!
***
One of her current faves is a song I made up on an occasion I can't even remember -- probably when we saw a fire truck and she wanted me to sing about it. This has since turned into "The fire truck song" and the verses go like this:
Hurry hurry fire truck, hurry hurry fire truck, hurry hurry fire truck we've come to fight the fire!
Hurry hurry water tender, hurry hurry water tender, hurry hurry water tender we need to douse the flames
Hurry hurry ambulance, hurry hurry ambulance, hurry hurry ambulance there are people trapped inside
Hurry hurry firefighters hurry hurry firefighters, hurry hurry firefighters you need to rescue the people
..and for all you especially cynical people out there, the last verse is:
Hurry hurry politcians, hurry hurry politicians, hurry hurry politicians, you need a photo opportunity!
(The last verse is in honor of Ray Flyn, who was the mayor of Boston when I interned at the Boston Globe during the summer of 1987. He was genius for showing up at any and all house fires and other tragedies, for reasons I could never figure out).
Rachel said something to make me laugh -- can't for the life of me remember what it was -- and I said, "You're funny, Rachel!"
"No, I'M funny," she said.
"No, I'M funny," I said.
"No, I'M funny."
"No, I'M funny!"
"No, I'M funny!"
"We funny together," she concluded.
***
She is becoming quite the singer. Tonight, as I was talking to a friend on my Smartphone, Rachel started SINGING to herself in the backseat! She started with "Rise and Shine" and moved on to a couple of other songs.
"I like hearing you sing," I told her at the dinner table later on.
"I like your earrings," she replied (I didn't have any on at the time).
Thinking she hadn't heard me correctly, I said, "I like hearing you SING, Rachel!"
"I like your earrings," she repeated.
Hopefully she'll get the idea that I'd rather hear her sing than listen to my own voice all the time!
***
One of her current faves is a song I made up on an occasion I can't even remember -- probably when we saw a fire truck and she wanted me to sing about it. This has since turned into "The fire truck song" and the verses go like this:
Hurry hurry fire truck, hurry hurry fire truck, hurry hurry fire truck we've come to fight the fire!
Hurry hurry water tender, hurry hurry water tender, hurry hurry water tender we need to douse the flames
Hurry hurry ambulance, hurry hurry ambulance, hurry hurry ambulance there are people trapped inside
Hurry hurry firefighters hurry hurry firefighters, hurry hurry firefighters you need to rescue the people
..and for all you especially cynical people out there, the last verse is:
Hurry hurry politcians, hurry hurry politicians, hurry hurry politicians, you need a photo opportunity!
(The last verse is in honor of Ray Flyn, who was the mayor of Boston when I interned at the Boston Globe during the summer of 1987. He was genius for showing up at any and all house fires and other tragedies, for reasons I could never figure out).
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Playdate with Sarah and Noah
Sarah, my former editor (for a short time) at the Oregonian who took a buyout and is now an accountant, came over this morning with her almost-4-year-old son, Noah. I gave Rachel a brief talk about sharing before he came, and she really was great -- didn't mind at all when he comandeered her toys. She was happy to play near him or join the women in the kitchen as we drank tea and talked.
We went upstairs and Rachel tried to get Noah to play with the plastic balls in the big tub. The fun ended when she got herself into the tub but bonked her head on the coffee table trying to get up. She needed lots of comforting and cuddling, which I was happy to do!
This morning over breakfast, she wanted me to sing to her. "Yellow submarine," she said. So I sang one verse of it, and then she asked for "Blue Submarine," and then I got inspired and sang, "We all live in a RACHEL submarine/a RACHEL submarine/a RACHEL submarine." She nearly doubled up laughing, she thought it was so hilarious.
Then she started singing on her own, "We all live in MOMMY submarine," and I started laughing. Then I suggested DADDY submarine, and then ultimately I ended up singing, "We all live in a RACHELandMOMMYandDADDY submarine" and she erupted into such a fit of laughter that it really became time to do something else.
Will someone out there remind Rachel, when she is old and bored and embarrassed by her parents, that once upon a time I could make her laugh so hard that I hoped she'd never stop? Please?
We went upstairs and Rachel tried to get Noah to play with the plastic balls in the big tub. The fun ended when she got herself into the tub but bonked her head on the coffee table trying to get up. She needed lots of comforting and cuddling, which I was happy to do!
This morning over breakfast, she wanted me to sing to her. "Yellow submarine," she said. So I sang one verse of it, and then she asked for "Blue Submarine," and then I got inspired and sang, "We all live in a RACHEL submarine/a RACHEL submarine/a RACHEL submarine." She nearly doubled up laughing, she thought it was so hilarious.
Then she started singing on her own, "We all live in MOMMY submarine," and I started laughing. Then I suggested DADDY submarine, and then ultimately I ended up singing, "We all live in a RACHELandMOMMYandDADDY submarine" and she erupted into such a fit of laughter that it really became time to do something else.
Will someone out there remind Rachel, when she is old and bored and embarrassed by her parents, that once upon a time I could make her laugh so hard that I hoped she'd never stop? Please?
Friday, December 3, 2010
The Hanukkah Song
Mom and Dad always sang a song in Yiddish every night of Hanukkah, a song that ended with, "hip hip hooray! Hip hip hooray! Hip hip hooray for the Maccabees!"
I sang it last year but it didn't really register. What a difference 24 months makes! When I sang it for the first time the other night, Rachel was beside herself. She LOVED it. "Again!" her sweet little voice demanded, and I obliged. She loves it when I sign it in the car. And she even tries to sing it herself, but she can't get past the first two words: "Hanukkah, Hanukkah..."
Tonight I raced out of work after a longer-than-expected chat with the associate dean of the law school (a truly nice guy; I could have talked to him for another hour or so), grabbed Rachel from daycare and tossed her into the car seat without any Mommy cuddling -- all in order to get to a friend's house by 7 (we actually got there at 7:10 or so). Suzanne had invited us over because her sister-in-law was making LATKES, and since I have absolved myself of making them this year because it's just too much for a single mom to do (with the proviso that I will make them the first weekend Drew is home for winter break because he made a special request), I decided to take Rachel.
Suzanne is the mom of Lila, Rachel's little friend, and boy did those two have a time together! At first Rachel was a little shy, but then they ended up in Lila's room and we heard much laughter and dumping of Lego blocks. We all thought it would have been lovely to let them play all night so we could have adult conversation, but finally Steve (Suzanne's husband) told the girls that we were LIGHTING THE CANDLES and it was time to come out of Lila's room. Whereupon Rachel marched out in a pair of genuine wooden clogs from Holland (and she looked ADORABLE) and we lit the candles and said a prayer. Rachel swallowed a few mouthfuls of applesauce and challah, and then it was back to Lila's room. More laughter and some shrieking, and at one point Steve checked to see what was going on. Upon returning, he informed us that he wasn't allowed into the clubhouse.
We lured them out again with dessert (last night I baked peanut butter cookies with Hershey's kisses in the center) and Lila kept at the cookies -- with Rachel right behind -- until "big Rachel" (Steve's sister, who had made the latkes) took them away.
It was so cute watching Rachel and Lila together. Whatever one did, the other followed. Lila is a few months older and is regularly using the potty and wearing underwear. At one point she came back with her underpants down and I pulled them up and pulled on her pants. "Lila, you should tell Rachel that she should wear underwear," I said, not thinking she'd follow through. Sure enough, she came with me into the bathroom, where Rachel was waiting to use the potty (because Lila had used it just minutes earlier) and said earnestly, "Rachel, you should wear underwear." It was hard not to laugh.
At the end of the evening, Rachel generously gave hugs all around. Lila is a hugger, too -- she came right up to me, arms outstretched, in a completely unself-conscious way, to get her hug.
I hope our girls will continue to be great friends for a long, long time!
I sang it last year but it didn't really register. What a difference 24 months makes! When I sang it for the first time the other night, Rachel was beside herself. She LOVED it. "Again!" her sweet little voice demanded, and I obliged. She loves it when I sign it in the car. And she even tries to sing it herself, but she can't get past the first two words: "Hanukkah, Hanukkah..."
Tonight I raced out of work after a longer-than-expected chat with the associate dean of the law school (a truly nice guy; I could have talked to him for another hour or so), grabbed Rachel from daycare and tossed her into the car seat without any Mommy cuddling -- all in order to get to a friend's house by 7 (we actually got there at 7:10 or so). Suzanne had invited us over because her sister-in-law was making LATKES, and since I have absolved myself of making them this year because it's just too much for a single mom to do (with the proviso that I will make them the first weekend Drew is home for winter break because he made a special request), I decided to take Rachel.
Suzanne is the mom of Lila, Rachel's little friend, and boy did those two have a time together! At first Rachel was a little shy, but then they ended up in Lila's room and we heard much laughter and dumping of Lego blocks. We all thought it would have been lovely to let them play all night so we could have adult conversation, but finally Steve (Suzanne's husband) told the girls that we were LIGHTING THE CANDLES and it was time to come out of Lila's room. Whereupon Rachel marched out in a pair of genuine wooden clogs from Holland (and she looked ADORABLE) and we lit the candles and said a prayer. Rachel swallowed a few mouthfuls of applesauce and challah, and then it was back to Lila's room. More laughter and some shrieking, and at one point Steve checked to see what was going on. Upon returning, he informed us that he wasn't allowed into the clubhouse.
We lured them out again with dessert (last night I baked peanut butter cookies with Hershey's kisses in the center) and Lila kept at the cookies -- with Rachel right behind -- until "big Rachel" (Steve's sister, who had made the latkes) took them away.
It was so cute watching Rachel and Lila together. Whatever one did, the other followed. Lila is a few months older and is regularly using the potty and wearing underwear. At one point she came back with her underpants down and I pulled them up and pulled on her pants. "Lila, you should tell Rachel that she should wear underwear," I said, not thinking she'd follow through. Sure enough, she came with me into the bathroom, where Rachel was waiting to use the potty (because Lila had used it just minutes earlier) and said earnestly, "Rachel, you should wear underwear." It was hard not to laugh.
At the end of the evening, Rachel generously gave hugs all around. Lila is a hugger, too -- she came right up to me, arms outstretched, in a completely unself-conscious way, to get her hug.
I hope our girls will continue to be great friends for a long, long time!
Thursday, December 2, 2010
We have a chicken in our attic!
That's according to Rachel, who informed me of that this morning while I was singing "Farmer in the Dell." I had run out of words and she reminded me about the chicken laying the eggs. So I sang the whole phrase.
"I have a chicken upstairs," she said.
"Really, Rachel?" I answered. "What's it's name?
"Just chicken."
"What color is it?"
She didn't answer. Then: "You can play with my chicken upstairs."
Pause.
"You can play with my toys upstairs, too."
A colleague at work, who has what she describes as a "gentle" 18-month-boy, was not at all surprised to hear about this sweet side of Rachel. She thinks that girls are more nurturing than boys. She may be right!
***
As I was cuddling her in the rocker this morning she looked at me and said, "Rachel DeSilver! I like that name!"
"Well I'm glad, sweetie, because I like it too!" I replied.
***
Last night I took my contact lenses off and put my glasses on while I was getting Rachel ready for her bath. (This was after she pooped in the potty for real this time, rather than me rushing her to the potty while, um, she was in the middle of the act of pooping).
"You look beeoootiful in your sunglasses!" she said. I couldn't help but laugh. "Thank you, Rachel, you made my day!" I said.
This morning after I'd dressed her in black corduroys, a pink turtleneck and her preppy little L.L.Bean sweater ($4 at a resale shop in Salem), I couldn't help taking her picture.
"I look beeootiful!" she said proudly. Yes, she did!
***
She cleared almost all the dishes from the table tonight, even after complaining her dinner plate was "too heavy" for her to carry. "I think you can carry it, sweetie," I said, and a moment later she picked it up -- and made it all the way to the counter! OK, a couple of spoons fell off, but still, it was the effort that counted!
She also informed me earlier tonight that "I love to cuddle with Mommy!" which of course made my day. Then in the glider she suddenly said, "Big Kiss!" and so of course I had to smoosh her face with kisses. Then it was "Big Hug!" and I had to hug her very tight. Then I asked the same of her. Her hugs are definitely getting bigger and more long-lasting. Oh, if I could just spend an hour at night with her in the glider, cuddling, instead of racing into the kitchen and cleaning up and calling Drew and baking cookies for a Hanukkah celebration tomorrow and getting Rachel's lunch together and calling the handyman who was supposed to come over this week to look at some stuff around the house but couldn't make it because he was sick -- if I could truly push all that aside and snuggle with my daughter, I'd be one happy woman.
***
"You can go in the living room," she informed me last night as we were finishing up dinner. "You can play with my truck. You can make the animals go." (She has a farm truck that makes noise when you press the farmer's head). Oh, yeah, now I get where the whole fascination with farms comes from!
"I have a chicken upstairs," she said.
"Really, Rachel?" I answered. "What's it's name?
"Just chicken."
"What color is it?"
She didn't answer. Then: "You can play with my chicken upstairs."
Pause.
"You can play with my toys upstairs, too."
A colleague at work, who has what she describes as a "gentle" 18-month-boy, was not at all surprised to hear about this sweet side of Rachel. She thinks that girls are more nurturing than boys. She may be right!
***
As I was cuddling her in the rocker this morning she looked at me and said, "Rachel DeSilver! I like that name!"
"Well I'm glad, sweetie, because I like it too!" I replied.
***
Last night I took my contact lenses off and put my glasses on while I was getting Rachel ready for her bath. (This was after she pooped in the potty for real this time, rather than me rushing her to the potty while, um, she was in the middle of the act of pooping).
"You look beeoootiful in your sunglasses!" she said. I couldn't help but laugh. "Thank you, Rachel, you made my day!" I said.
This morning after I'd dressed her in black corduroys, a pink turtleneck and her preppy little L.L.Bean sweater ($4 at a resale shop in Salem), I couldn't help taking her picture.
"I look beeootiful!" she said proudly. Yes, she did!
***
She cleared almost all the dishes from the table tonight, even after complaining her dinner plate was "too heavy" for her to carry. "I think you can carry it, sweetie," I said, and a moment later she picked it up -- and made it all the way to the counter! OK, a couple of spoons fell off, but still, it was the effort that counted!
She also informed me earlier tonight that "I love to cuddle with Mommy!" which of course made my day. Then in the glider she suddenly said, "Big Kiss!" and so of course I had to smoosh her face with kisses. Then it was "Big Hug!" and I had to hug her very tight. Then I asked the same of her. Her hugs are definitely getting bigger and more long-lasting. Oh, if I could just spend an hour at night with her in the glider, cuddling, instead of racing into the kitchen and cleaning up and calling Drew and baking cookies for a Hanukkah celebration tomorrow and getting Rachel's lunch together and calling the handyman who was supposed to come over this week to look at some stuff around the house but couldn't make it because he was sick -- if I could truly push all that aside and snuggle with my daughter, I'd be one happy woman.
***
"You can go in the living room," she informed me last night as we were finishing up dinner. "You can play with my truck. You can make the animals go." (She has a farm truck that makes noise when you press the farmer's head). Oh, yeah, now I get where the whole fascination with farms comes from!
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