Who needs TV? Or an iPad?

..when you can have a round robin storytelling session starring Rachel, Mommy and Daddy?

Tonight as we were finishing up our dinner, Rachel asked us to tell her a story (which she asks us to do ALL THE TIME NOW, I think she's secretly penning a memoir) and somehow we got the idea to tell it in sections, with each of us taking a section and sending the story in a completely new direction. Rachel gave us the prompts: The first story was about a girl who waved a chicken leg in the air and then a flower in the air, and the second story was about a person reading a book. She contributed one or two sentences during the storytelling, but then got tired and listened to us, her mouth half open, hanging on to every word. It was great.

You'd be amazed at where those stories went. The girl who waved the chicken leg and flower was named Deanna (courtesy of Drew) and she lived with her family in a house that was haunted by a ghost named Cyrus who turned Deanna's chicken leg into a flower and her flower into a chicken leg because he was upset that the house stood in the place of a garden that he used to tend for the family that had lived in the house 50 years before. So the family promised to let him fill their flower boxes with begonias if they agreed to stop haunting them (this was after a "house doctor" with funny instruments came to the house and diagnosed the problem). So, for the rest of the time they lived in the house, the begonias bloomed without any help from Deanna and her family; Cyrus, the gardener, tended to them.

The person reading the book turned out to be a librarian named Jenny who worked in a library with a door that she couldn't open. No one knew what was behind that door, not even Jenny. Well, one day she was alone in the library when she heard the door to the secret room swing open. She took a flashlight and investigated, but (Rachel's contribution) she was too scared to go in. So the next day she and her library science professor, Prof. Ruus, went into the room and encountered a little old man samed Sir Henry, reading a book from the pile of books he was sitting on, who got very cranky at being disturbed. And when Jenny and Prof. Ruus asked if they could read one of his books, he said no, they're my books in old languages and you wouldn't understand them, so go away. (Rachel didn't like that and said he couldn't come to her house). So Jenny and Prof. Ruus offered him a book of Dr. Seuss stories (including Horton Hatches the Egg and The 500 Hats of Bartholomew Cubbins) and he was so enchanted by them that he grudgingly agreed to a book exchange. So, now when some of the books in the library are missing, and librarians don't seem to know where they are, they're really being read by Sir Henry.

"I really hope she remembers this," Drew said after we were done. "I want her to have a love of stories, and I want that to be a permanent part of her being." Now Drew is even asking HER to tell US stories. "OK, that's fair," she said.

Tonight is the first night I've ever thought, Damn, she is lucky to have us as her parents.

Saturday morning trip

This morning Rachel kept yelling from her crib, "Daddy! Daddy!"
"He's in the bathroom, Rachel!" I yelled back. She started crying, so I wrapped myself in a dressing gown and went into her room to reassure her I wasn't mad. She settled herself in next to me on the glider and said she wanted to read a LOT of books. Then she pretended to strap on a seat belt.

"Fasten your belt!" she said. "We're going to Dinosuar-land!"

Dinosaur Land is where we get to see Mommy and baby dinosaurs but not Daddy dinosaurs. The dinosaurs are nice, not mean, and they don't bite. We get to play with them. Sounds like a trippy version of Jurassic Park. Sign me up!

***

"I want to be a grownup and drink wine," Rachel told me this morning.
"Rachel, why do you want to drink wine so much?" I asked her.
"Because," she said. "I want to be just like you!"
I could only say thank you. Hopefully that sentiment won't die anytime soon.

***

I've talked before about how we've tried to cultivate in Rachel an attitude of thankfulness. This morning she said, totally out of the blue, "Thank you for the presents!"
I was puzzled because I haven't brought her any gifts lately.
"Thank you for the bracelet and the shirt!" she said. (I had brought those back from Vermont). I was stunned that she remembered, and that she's still thanking me for them.

This morning Drew thanked me for making the bed, as he usually does. When I sat down to breakfast Rachel echoed, "Thank you for making the bed, Mommy!"

Looks like it's working.

Rachel language

So, Rachel is developing her own vocabulary: "accident" is "askident," and "connesation" is "conversation." It is beyond adorable, and the only regret I have is that she'll someday leave these words behind and Drew and I will be the only ones who remember them.

***

Rachel chose a terrific outfit today: Black long-sleeved shirt with polka dots; purple skirt and red/pink/white tights, with crocs. Drew swore to me over the phone that she would've looked right at home on the campus of NYU, and I thought he was kidding until I saw her when I got home tonight. Plus, she was wearing princess earrings (pink in one ear, yellow in another), a princess necklace, princess bracelet and a ring. She looked so fashion-forward, she took my breath away.

***

Random things Rachel eats: Dry oatmeal (no, I'm not kidding). Rigatoni that we call penne just to get her to eat it. Cereal. Bacon (on weekends). Chocolate-chip scones (on weekends). She has sworn off vegetables for the time being, and I at least have sworn off nagging her. We'll pick it up again next week, I'm sure.

Ahhh.....summer

Perfect evening tonight: I left work early (well, early for me when Drew is home -- usually I leave at 6:30 or even 7; today I left at 6:15). Got to Grant Park in time to see Rachel run through the fountain that features metal statues of Ramona, Henry and Beezus (from the Beverly Cleary books). Then we all played a little tetherball. Drew went home to prepare dinner and Rachel and I played on the seesaw and the swings and the play structure (she went down the slides BACKWARDS and is such a climbing monkey these days that I told her we really need to take her to an indoor climbing gym this winter. I think she'd have a blast). It was wonderful to sit on the park bench in a sleeveless dress and light jacket and feel warm. It gets up to 84 degrees in the day and cools to 60 or so at night. Perfect weather!

Then we had gazpacho, challah and salad for dinner. Rachel interrupted a couple of times to say, "can you finish your contenataion (we figured out she meant "conversation") so I can talk?" Talking turned out to be getting us to ask her what kind of pretend ice cream she wanted and Drew saying he really likes dirty socks ice cream, and pavement ice cream, and so on.

Now he's putting her to bed while I spend the next two hours getting work done. It's lovely sitting by an open window with a light breeze, oldies on the radio and the dishwasher humming. Soon enough it will be winter and we'll be shut up inside. I hope that in return for our late summer we get a late fall.

Rachel's diss on Drew today:

Rachel, as they were driving to preschool:
--Daddy, can you tell me a story? Mommy tells really good stories.
--Do I tell really good stories? Drew asked.
__No, Rachel said matter-of-actly.

I think he's kind of sad she said that. But he's hiding it well.

Rachel's latest excuse for not eating carrots

"I can't eat carrots, Mommy," Rachel said tonight. "They're not good for my brain."
"They are very GOOD for your brain," I replied.
"No they're not," she replied. "My brain tells me carrots are yucky."

Now folks, who can argue with that???

She's so sweet, she makes me cry even harder

So, you all remember the post about Knuffle Bunny Free, right? The book I can't read without crying? Well, Rachel insisted that I read it tonight and I really, really let go. (With enough repetition, I'm sure my senses will eventually be dulled to the point that I can get through it with nary a tear, but we are not at that point yet).

"Why are you crying, Mommy?" Rachel said.
"Because this book is sad," I sobbed.
"It's not sad," Rachel protested.
"Yes it is!" I said.
"Why is it sad?"
"Because the litte girl grows up and goes AWAY!"
"I won't go away," Rachel promised.
"Yes, you will," I said. "You'll go away to college, and then you'll forget about me."
"I can take a taxi," she said soothingly.

Well, why didn't I think of that? I could only laugh.

***

A few minutes later I was getting her into her pajamas and told her I loved her. And then she said this totally out of the blue:
"No one can take away your daughter."
Stunned, I mumbled something about her going to college.
"I won't go to college," she said cheerfully.
"Oh, yes you will," I said.
"Mommy and Daddy can take me to college," she replied.
"Yes," I replied, already planning the trip back East in my head. "We can drive and make a lot of cool stops along the way. Or we can take a plane. Or a train! And then we'll drop you off and we'll cry."

***

Earlier tonight, on the way home from preschool, we passed the Saturday Market (not to be confused with the farmer's market every Saturday; Saturday Market is an artisan market that is a great source for holiday and birthday gifts). I told her that maybe we can all go when the weather gets cooler and we're looking for holiday gifts for Valerie and Grandma and Grandpa...
"We can get Grandma a beautiful book," she said.
"Yes, we could," I replied.
"And Gradndpa a toy bridge," she said. "And maybe a car!"
So, Grandma and Grandpa...hope you enjoy your gifts. Especially the new Lexus that Rachel has suggested we buy you.

***

Rachel likes to talk about when she was a baby, and also when Drew and I were her age. Tonight she asked me, "Mommy, when you were my age, what did you carry?" (this referred to Knuffle Bunny). I honestly don't remember, I told her. Probably some dolls.

Tonight she turned the tables on me. At dinner she announced, "A long time ago when you were a baby, I used to swaddle you and I gave you a baby rattle. And you wore jammies with salad dressing on them."

Um, yeah.

***

Another totally unexpected suggestion from Rachel this evening:

"Maybe when it gets really really really really really really hot, we can go to Kalamazoo!"
"Why Kalamazoo, Rachel?" I asked.
"It's in the city," she replied.

Guess that makes sense only in Rachel-land.

From the "I can die now," department

Rachel asked me to tell her a story tonight at dinner about "someone with a T-shirt like yours, Mommy." And before I could even begin, she said, "You're really good at thinking of stories, Mommy." SUCCESS!!

***

Also from the "I can die now," department: I can officially say that I'm One Hell of a Cook because I made the most delicious fried chicken you have ever tasted in your life. Last night I spent two hot hours in the kitchen, frying various chicken parts in LARD (I mean, if you're gonna do it, go for the gusto, right?) for a picnic with our friends Deni and Miriam and their significant others Bob and George. (We met them at Grant Park for a concert given by the Oregon Festival Symphony). They ate up a whole Tupperware's worth of the chicken, and we have enough leftovers for two more dinners. I should add that Drew whipped up a batch of his famous chocolate chip cookies with substantial assistance from Rachel, who is proving to be a real help in the kitchen. Drew has still not given me his recipe for the cookies, which are a doctored-up version of the Original Toll House recipe. But Rachel knows.

"So my daughter gets to know the recipe and I don't?" I asked in disbelief.
"Well, she's a DeSilver," Drew said, shrugging.
"That's HARSH," Deni observed.

Anyway, one of the concert tunes was "Peter and the Wolf," and I had forgotten how I loved that piece of music, especiallly when the conducted announced that the bird is played by the piccolo, Peter is played by the strings, Grandfather is played by the bassoon, etc. Unfortunately Rachel was at the other end of the park playing on the swings and slide with Drew. I finally dragged her back by promising her a cookie IF she ate a good dinner (she ended up sneaking in three cookies while we weren't looking, darn the luck). Today, when we went to the park after preschool, she said, "that's where the concert was!" When I asked her if she liked Peter and the Wolf, she said no -- she was scared by the story -- but she liked the part about Peter.

***

Rachel now talks a lot about the people she wants to invite to her house because they're nice and she likes them: Devin. Sadie. Amanda. All the kids in the "pink" group at preschool (she is in the "purple" group).

On the way home tonight she informed me, "We can't use potty words at Devin's house."
"No, we can't," I agreed.
"But we can use potty words at home," she said.
"No, we can't use potty words at home," I answered. "Those are bad words."