Weekend with the aunties!

We had a terrific time with Amanda and Jenn, who arrived on Friday night and left after brunch this morning.

On Saturday we stopped at Kitchen Kaboodle and admired a tea-making machine, the Rolls Royce of such machines, as Jenn said. Then we all went to Forest Park and took a lovely hike through the woods. It has been 50 degrees and sunny throughout, and I'm sure that contributed to how relaxed everyone was. I didn't get to start dinner until 5:30 -- an hour later than I'd planned -- but it turned out well. I made lamb shoulder instead of rack of lamb and it was fabulous; Drew has told me it's a keeper. Rachel gobbled up the meat like she couldn't get enough, and when we reminded her she had to eat her carrot before getting dessert, she scarfed it down.

This morning Drew, Rachel and I get up and were showered and dressed by 9:30. Rachel had some oatmeal (dried; I don't understand how she stands the stuff) and we headed to Kenny & Zuke's for brunch. Rachel was extremely well-behaved; she colored until her meal came and ate half a bagel and some fruit. We said goodbye, then Drew took Rachel to the park while I did some reading for class. (Outside, I may add; it was so warm that I leaned against one of the cherry trees in our backyard and read about integrated marketing communications). All in all, not a bad way to get homework done!

Now I am upstairs trying to refine a story pitch and not having much success. Rachel is watching a My Little Pony movie for the 398th time with Drew next to her ("I know more about the history, mythology and social structure of Ponyville than I ever thought possible. And the suburbs of Breezy Blossom and Unicornia"), and I'm heading downstairs to make Mom's recipe for cornish game hens (which Rachel calls "chicken hens"). We'll have it with couscous, salad and the rest of the fig cake for dessert.

She's...unbelieveable sometimes

This morning Rachel was dressed in her new princess jammies (warm top and bottom in pink, with princesses) when she came to my bathroom door while I was drying my hair. She had her shoes on.

"Why are your shoes on, sweetie?" I asked.

"I want to get the paper all by myself," she answered.

I was so startled that I said, "Okay!" and then opened the front door for her. I watched as she walked very carefully down the steps of our driveway, retrieved the NY Times in its blue bag, and carried it carefully back up the stairs, balancing it like a tray in both hands.

"THANK YOU, sweetie!" I exclaimed. "You really helped Mommy out!'

But it was what she said next that really stunned me.

"I was looking out the window and I saw the newspaper," she said. "And I thought, 'how can I help so you don't have to do all the work?'"

***

As I was dropping Rachel off at school this morning, one of the teachers (not Rachel's regular one), commented on how big she's getting. Then she added, totally unbidden, "and she has a PHENOMENAL mind!"

I could only smile.

***

Amanda and Jenn arrived tonight just as I was putting Rachel to bed. We're celebrating Amanda's 40th with a home-cooked meal tomorrow night. I was telling Rachel how we have to celebrate Auntie Amanda's birthday because it happened on New Year's Day and she wasn't here for us to do so (she and Jenn were in England).

Then we began talking about Rachel's birthday. She has decided she wants Daddy to make steak, and for side dishes she wants cherries and apples. And I'm supposed to make her a chocolate cake with a picture of her on a pony on top. And the cake has to have chocolate chips and pieces of apple, cherries and oranges.

I told her I'd work on that.

Extended Rachel sayings

I didn't manage to write down half the great stuff she said recently, but here's a sampling of the things I did remember:

"You make the best banana bread in the whole wide world!" she called out from the kitchen yesterday while I was getting dressed. I silently told Drew to just hand her the car keys now...

"Mommy, can I say the Shabbat prayers even though it's not Shabbat?" she said Wednesday. Go right ahead, I told her. Folks, she can say all the Shabbat prayers in a recognizable way. As Drew says, she'll be the top student in Hebrew school...

"Thank you for making the soup, Mommy," Rachel said Monday night (I had made a pasta, tomato and Italian sausage soup). "It was yummy as a big cake as big as our house!"

Tonight:

Rachel: How big is the world?
Me: SOO big.
Rachel (insistently) HOW big? Like, 30 miles?
Me: No. More like...a million miles. I really don't know.
Rachel: A million! A jillion! A killion!

If Drew were here he'd be able to answer so much more accurately...

***

"Wouldn't it be really funny if a rabbit hopped by and it was a chocolate bunny?" Rachel said during dinner. "I want a tomato cake for my birthday (laughing). A brocoli blueberry cake -- GROSS, Mommy! GROSS!"

***

Rachel: Mommy, I really wish I were a grownup right now.
Me: Why?
Rachel: 'Cause I wanna drink wine. And wear a bra. I want to be really pretty.
Me (firmly): You ARE pretty!
Rachel: I want to be really pretty for chorus!

***

Rachel: Wouldn't it be funny if when I was a grownup I had a little baby bra?
Me: Why are you so obsessed with bras?
Rachel: Because I like breasts.
Me: Why do you like breasts?
Rachel: Because I like to feed babies!

***

Rachel: My nipples are full when I have my own babies. I can feed them.
Me (startled): Yes. Who told you that?
Rachel: Daddy.

***

After I told Rachel that the Hebrew name for Mommy is "Ima" and Daddy is "Abba," (which is about all the Hebrew I know besides "shalom"), Rachel started quizzing me.

Rachel: Do you know how to say "this is a turtle?"
Me: No, sweetie.
Rachel: Do you know to say "this is Rachel's bunny?"
Me: Uh, no.
Rachel: Do you know how to say "Grandma and Grandpa?"
Me: No.

Think I better take some Hebrew lessons -- fast. Can't keep up with my kid!

Sorry we've been out of touch...

Work and non-work life has been a little hectic these days. Your Faithful Correspondent promises to be, um, more faithful.

Rachel of course continues to be delightful. Her latest thing is to "spell" out letters by using utensils -- forks, knives, spoons -- to make "h" and "a" and so forth. Don't know what we'll do when she gets to "w." Or, for that matter, "i."

Drew has been reading some of the Beatrix Potter books to her lately and it's amazing how, um, British they are. I have to explain every 2nd or 3rd word. And some of the tales are sort of disturbing -- Tom Thumb's temper tantrum and Squirrel Nutkin almost getting skinned by Old Brown, the owl. Rachel, of course, does not appear to be disturbed by any of this.

As you all know, I'm taking a marketing class in the business school on Tuesdays and I sing in chorus on Wednesdays, so for two nights I don't see Rachel at all. We've been missing each other, and tonight we talked about it while we cuddled in her bed.

Me: I miss you when I'm at chorus.
Rachel: I miss you too, but it helps me.
Me: Why?
Rachel: Because I love your singing and I can hear you sing all the way from chorus!

We've been talking a lot about chorus lately -- Drew has promised to bring Rachel to a rehearsal (possibly as soon as next week), and Rachel keeps asking if she'll be able to get on stage "with all the other kids." I haven't had the heart to tell her that it's all grown women and that we'd crash into her while we do our choreography and sing at the same time. Tonight she said again that she wanted to sing on stage with me.

"And Ryan (the director) will be so proud of me that he'll give me a treat!" she said. "Like jellybeans! I love jellybeans!"

I could only laugh.

More Rachel cuteness

Tonight really was a fabulous evening -- maybe because I haven't really seen Rachel in the last two days, and Drew is in Seattle so it's just Mommy and Rachel -- or because she was in a great mood.

On the way home from school Rachel reminded me of the time a woman ran into Daddy's car. "It was on Halloween," she said. Which is true, and I was absolutely astonished at her memory. Then we talked about how it's terrible to run red lights, that you could hurt someone, and get a ticket. I told her that Daddy would be very upset if I ran a red light and hurt someone.

"He'd be very upset," she agreed. "He'd put you in your room."

***

I was pulling out of the gas station when Rachel said, "When I grow up, I'll call you Lisa."
"No you won't," I said sternly. "You can't ever call me by my first name, even when you grow up."
"Why?"
"Because it's not respectful," I said.
"My children won't either," she said.

"Right," I answered. "Your children won't call you by your first name because I'll tell them they have to respect their mommy."

"Even after you're dead?" Rachel said.

"Yes," I replied. "Rachel, why are you so obsessed with death?"

Pause.

"What does death mean?" she asked.

***

When Rachel has asked me to tell her a story the past few weeks, it has usually been about her friend Tessa who has a birthday in the winter. So I made up a dramatic tale about it snowing on Tessa's birthday but everyone coming to her house anyway and playing in the snow and drinking hot chocolate next to a big fire.

Tonight Rachel said:

"Mommy, tell me a story about my birthday. But not with any scary parts. No storms, no snow...."

I cracked up.

Vegetable dilemma solved (at least for now)

I should have titled this post, "We are Idiots." Because, We, who should have known better, have been willingly giving Rachel a snack on the way home. It's always granola, so it's always nutritious, but OF COURSE SHE'S NOT HUNGRY FOR DINNER BECAUSE HER LITTLE TUMMY IS ALREADY FULL OF SO-CALLED NUTRITIOUS FOOD WHEN REALLY ALL SHE'S EATEN IS A SUGARY TREAT MASQUERADING AS SOMETHING GOOD FOR HER!

Now that I've finished flagellating myself..

Drew refused to provide Rachel with
a snack on Tuesday and Wednesday night, but he offered her carrots on the way home from school. She held on to them but refused to eat them. When she got home she was starving so she ate a good dinner both nights -- pasta, challah, string cheese and CARROTS. Drew bought a bag of pre-peeled baby carrots and sliced them up; for some reason it's easier for her to handle if she has just a couple of pieces on her plate -- and she ate them! Not exactly willingly, and Drew had to get on her case to follow through, but she did eat one carrot on Wednesday and one carrot on Thursday. He praised her lavishly.

"Mommy will be SO PROUD of me!" Rachel told him. And as soon as she told me Wednesday morning, I said, "I am SO PROUD of you!"

"How proud are you?" she said.

"THIS much!" I said, holding my hands out wide.

Tonight she said, "If I ate four carrots, how proud would you be?"

"I'd be so proud, my arms wouldn't even stretch that far," I answered.

"You'd fall down and bonk your head!" she exclaimed. "And then I'd give you an icee."
Tonight I admittedly pushed my luck a bit -- I cut up more than one carrot and put a whole pile of slices on a small plate. She looked dismayed and said, face quivering, "but when DADDY gives me a carrot, he just gives me one." So I made a big deal of sweeping about half the slices into my salad, acting like I was doing her a tremendous favor, and told her to eat the rest (which was still quite a sizable pile). She ate almost all of them, but when she said she couldn't eat any more, I gave her a break. I had made her hold off on the challah until she finished the carrots, and she didn't ask for dessert, so I just gave her a piece of challah and called it good.

"You know," I told Drew when he returned, calmed down, from the gym the other night, "this is just the first of many battles we'll have with her."

"I know," he replied. "That's why I want to let her know early that she won't always get her way."

Spectacularly crappy evening

I had a rough day at work and looked forward to swimming tonight, except I got stuck in a stupid, senseless traffic jam right near the exit to our street and ended up getting at the gym too late for free swim. Also, I lost an earring (but found it later). Also am behind on the magazine I edit because of a work situation that occupied all my time today.

So I was in a crummy mood when I got home but kept my temper under control enough to appreciate Rachel singing, "Hi, Mommy!" in that cheerful voice of hers, and "thank you for making this soup, Mommy!" and quietly answered Drew's questions about my day. Both of us kept trying to get Rachel to eat more soup and meat (I had made beef barley soup with short ribs, one of our winter favorites and one that Rachel usually eats) but she whined and crawled under the table and cried about not wanting to eat dinner.

And then out of nowhere, it seemed, Drew got totally frustrated at Rachel refusing to eat vegetables. We have been after her to try some, using all the tired old parenting tactics -- You Won't Grow Big and Strong If You Don't Eat Your Vegetables (she doesn't believe us and, frankly, the evidence is in her favor because she's growing like a weed), You Can't Have Any Dessert If You Don't Eat Your Vegetables (she doesn't care) and All Your Friends Eat Their Vegetables, So You Should, Too (ditto).

So Drew announced that henceforth she wouldn't get a snack on the way home from preschool (she usually munches on granola because she's starving by the time we pick her up). And that she'd have to start eating vegetables. I tried to feed her some cucumbers and carrots from the soup, and she started gagging, and Drew got so upset that he swept her up in his arms and ordered her to stay in her room.

She sobbed for a while and then came out and said, snurfling (she has a bad cold), "I'm reading to eat my vegetables." More gagging on cucumbers and carrots, which made Drew even more angry. I told her quietly that she couldn't do this anymore, that she had to start eating her vegetables. I took her on my lap and she cried, "I'll tell my children that too," which almost made me laugh but I was careful to stay very serious.

She asked me to put her to sleep, even after I asked if she really wanted me to or if she was just mad at Daddy. "Daddy ALWAYS puts me to sleep," she said sadly, so I took her to her room and we rocked for a while in the glider, me encouraging her to take deep breaths to calm her crying. "Why are you crying?" I asked. "Because I'm afraid you won't love me!" she said, and I had to reassure her AGAIN that that's not true -- I'll always love her but she needs to listen to what Mommy and Daddy say.

I read her one book, we went quietly into the bathroom to wash and brush, then she put on a pair of pajamas and asked me to cuddle with her in bed. I told her that I had to go back into the kitchen to finish dinner. She was sad but seemed to understand.

When I got back into the kitchen Drew had already cleaned up and was ready to head to the gym. "I am TIRED of fighting over food," he said angrily. I can't blame him, really -- I didn't realize it had built up into such frustration. Have I been lax as a parent by not insisting that Rachel eat vegetables? One of the things I decided long ago was never to fight my kid over food; we live in America and I don't allow her to eat junk, so she won't starve. I figured that she'd come around to the idea of eating vegetables soon enough and that she'd get what she needed from other good food. Or will it take putting out a plate of carrots and cucumbers and peas, night after night after bloody night, and not offering her anything she loves, like challah or chicken or pasta, before she gets the message that we won't tolerate her not eating vegetables? And then grows up to hate them as a result?

To much to think of right now. I'm hoping, for her sake, that she listens to Drew when he serves her vegetables tomorrow night while I'm in class.