Luxor: Day 1, Luxor Temple (January 3)

The train ride from Cairo to Luxor was a long one, that’s for sure. For some reason we keep leaving for trips late at night, thinking that Rachel will fall asleep. She never does, though, so we end up staying up all night long with her.

We didn’t want to fork out extra money for the fancy sleeping car, so we took the regular “sleeping” car, which was full of Arabs instead of tourists. I have nothing against Arabs, per se. I just don’t understand what they have against sleeping at night. Or why they enjoy listening to music (read: ring tones) on their phone at full volume, especially at 2 and 3 in the morning.

There was a baby down the hall and his parents weren’t putting him to bed, so it was nearly impossible to convince Rachel that this was a “sleeping car” and not a “party car.” This little boy kept visiting her, which was fine.

Eventually she tried to go visit him and learned that it was easier to crawl down the corridor while the train was moving. She kept falling over every time she stood up.

At the time I thought it was because the train was bumpy but now that I think of it, I could have been because it was 2 AM and she was well past tired.

The train pulled up to the station in Luxor at around 8:30 AM on January 3rd. Much to our surprise we found that we had slept for a couple of hours, which was nice.

Luxor is a tourist trap. If you remember nothing else, remember that.

The minute we got out of the train we were surrounded by taxi drivers asking us where we wanted to go. We found a guy who said he’d take us to our hotel, St. Joseph’s, for only 10 LE. We thought that was a pretty good deal…until we learned how close our hotel was to the train station.

We were too tired to make much a stink about it, though, and went into the hotel to see if they would let us check in 6 hours early. St. Joseph’s was a wonderful place to stay. They told us that our room would be ready in twenty minutes and to wait in the lobby. Less than twenty minutes later they escorted us up to our room, which had just finished being cleaned, set up a crib for Rachel and left us to relax in peace for a few minutes.

We were grateful that they let us check in early, but we didn’t want to waste our whole first day in Luxor so we walked down to the Luxor temple, which was just a 10 or 15 minute walk from our hotel. Andrew and I kind of knew the way because we had stayed at the Pyramisa hotel, just a few blocks away from St. Joseph’s, when we were in Luxor a few years ago. After walking the wrong way for a while I convinced Andrew that we weren’t going the right direction and we turned around and found the temple in no time.

The Luxor temple was much more pleasant this time around. The weather in Luxor is much nicer in January than in July! We were happy about that. It made it much easier to focus on exploring the temple. Last time we were so focused on not passing out that we forgot to enjoy ourselves.

Rachel wasn’t too impressed with the Avenue of the Sphinxes.

I’m not sure why. I find them rather remarkable, personally. The original Avenue of the Sphinxes stretched 3 km between the Luxor and Karnak temples, which is pretty amazing, although they’re mostly in ruins now. We got to see a lot more of the Avenue of the Sphinxes on our minibus ride to the Karnak temple, which was neat (but that’s a story for another day).

Eventually Rachel warmed up to the idea that there were going to be statues of strange half-people-half-animals everywhere and spent the rest of our time at the temple running around and picking up various rock samples.

It was interesting to go to Luxor temple a second time because we noticed many more things than we had noticed the first time. For example, a beautiful stucco done by the Romans in 200 AD covers the original relief done by the ancient Egyptians in the sanctuary of Amun. We completely missed that last time. It was an interesting contrast to see.

We also had to visit some old memories, like that place on the wall that the guards tell everyone to rub for good luck. I was the only one who would touch it. Out of 5 people you’d think a few would touch it. Everyone else thought it was too unsanitary. It’s not like we hadn’t brought hand sanitizer with us. Sheesh. I guess I’m the only lucky one.

Soon Rachel was getting a little grumpy. We hadn’t really eaten anything except snack foods since the day before and were in desperate need of brunch. We waited to take a family picture until after she had lost it just so we could say that we took her to Luxor and all she did was cry.

We left the temple complex, dragging our screaming child with us, and then tried to decide where to have lunch. The Schillings and David were with us and everyone had their own opinions about where they wanted to eat so it took us a while to decide. Soon we found a cheap falafel stand and ordered a bunch of sandwiches, sat down in a park facing the Luxor temple, and enjoyed the spring-like weather while filling our neglected tummies. And then? Then we walked back to the hotel, collapsed on our beds, and took a long (and lovely) afternoon nap.

Elder Neuenschwander and Bishop Burton

For Family Home Evening we met as a branch with Elder Dennis B. Neuenschwander of the Seventy. Apparently he was supposed to be coming when Elder Holland came in October but his wife got sick in Switzerland and they ended up going home instead of visiting Cairo and the rest of the Middle East. Since he wasn't able to come visit us then he came this time.

I should have taken notes during his talk. Rachel was off with Jaehee and Lindsey so my hands were free, but I still didn't take notes for some reason. It was very interesting though. He talked a lot about the former USSR, which I happened to enjoy a lot. In 1985 when the temple in Freiberg, Germany, was dedicated behind the iron curtain. People always said that the church would never make it past the iron curtain and he even had some people tell him that when the church went into Russia they'd start repenting then because that, surely, had to come soon before the end of the world.

In 1987 Elder Neuenschwander was called to be mission president of the Austria Vienna East mission, covering Poland, Hungary, and other countries behind the iron curtain. (And Egypt.)

In 1989 the Berlin Wall came down. In 1991 the USSR collapsed. And then the gospel was brought into Russia.

The gospel will be brought to all the world in the Lord's time. Right now we are working within the laws of the land which means that we can't proselyte and we can't convert anyone, but we can be good members of the church. So often we focus on what we can't do, but what we can't do isn't important and hinders us doing what we can do. We need to do what we can do. We can set and example, we can serve, we can do humanitarian work, we can meet together, we can pay tithing, we can do church history work.

It doesn't matter that the church isn't big here because the church is here. We need to do what we can do.

(Having so many General Authorities visit does not mean they are plotting anything big and grand. As far as he knows they are there for educational purposes so that when decisions need to me made they can be made well. It also helps us feel more "a part" of the church since we're so "isolated" out here.)

So often we "short change" ourselves by thinking that we know what's best. We are capable, but the Lord knows best. We need to do the Lord's will in all things. If we do, our lives will be easier and we will be blessed.

He told some wonderful stories of some new converts in Ukraine. When the USSR collapsed, and before, dachas were very important to the survival of the people. There wasn't enough food to be had year round so in the summer families would go out on the dacha every weekend and farm, basically. They had fruit trees and gardens and would grow and preserve everything they'd need for the year.

This was a big problem for the saints because they only had the weekend to work on the dacha, but church was on Sunday, which took away one of their days of labor.

In a meeting, Elder Neuenschwander read them some scriptures about keeping the Sabbath day holy and then felt compelled to promise them that, if they would make that sacrifice, they would be blessed with a bountiful harvest. He went home after that meeting almost shaking; he wasn't sure why he had promised them such a big thing, except that the Lord had told him to.

Sure enough, though, them members that decided to keep the Sabbath day holy, and only work on the dacha on Saturdays, started seeing miracle after miracle. They had water for their gardens when there was no water to be had. Their dachas were untouched by famine or theives. And their harvests were bountiful.

One couple told him that they had decided, when they joined the church, that they would pay their tithing and keep the Sabbath holy and that their berry bushes yeilded a crop twice as big as before. Such an amazing blessing!

And it's always been there. Malachi 3 was more of a rebuke than a promise. Tithing is an act of gratitude, not an extra something we do to get extra blessings. The Lord is always ready to bless us when we keep his commandments, though, and this is a reminder that when we keep the commandments we will be blessed in ways that we cannot even fully receive.

He talked a lot, a lot, about putting trust in the Lord. Because we don't know. But He does.

In the end he said, "I bless you that you will remember who you are."

What a wonderful blessing, to be able to remember who we are, to remember that we are children of Heavenly Father, and that he loves us, and that all we ever have to do is ask.

It was a fabulous meeting; we were so happy, and a little surprised, that Elder Neuenschwander and his wife still came. We were worried that they wouldn't be able to come anymore because of the bomb in the Khan yesterday.

Bishop Burton was scheduled to come visit us in January when David was here visiting but because of the Palestine/Israel crisis his trip was postponed until a few weeks ago. He ended up coming on February 13th, along with Presidents Porter and MacMillan of the Bountiful and Centerville stakes, and their wives.

He said that small and simple things are the "avenue of salvation." Sometimes things that are easy (and essential) seem mundane (and unimportant), for example, attending church meetings, or paying tithing.

He mentioned that the prophet and president of the church is tutored by the Lord by experiecnes and opportunities to serve (being in the Quorum of the 12, moving up in senority, etc). The Lord takes us as we are and makes us who he wants us to be, if we let him. My callings and experiences are transorming me into what the Lord wants me to be, also.

He also said, like Elder Neuenschwander, that we may feel forgotten by the church here, but that it is so exciting to be a Latter-day Saint here. He mentioned that he chatted with President Monson in the temple after one of their meetings and President Monson is aware that he (Bishop Burton) is here and that he (President Monson) sends his love.

The blessing the Bishop Burton invoked on our branch family was that we would be successful in our most important responsibilities as fathers and mothers (and, for those of us who are not yet fathers and mothers, that we would be a successful member of our families).

We are so blessed being "isolated" and "forgotten." We've had four general authorities visit our branch in 6 months! Being forgotten is awesome!

Arab Paparazzi

Whenever we go anywhere Rachel is swarmed by people snapping pictures, pinching cheeks, and blowing kisses. It’s not uncommon for people to come up, twist her face around, and kiss her right on the lips. Or to pick her up and walk away with her. Or to give her things, usually candy, cookies, or fruit.

Around Maadi it’s not so bad. All the guards on our usual walking routes are familiar with Rachel and ask about her if I ever walk by without her. Her picture is the background to more cellular phones than I can count. And we can’t take a subway ride without ending up with at least one candy. It slows us down a little, having to talk to everyone we see, but it’s bearable.

Touristy destinations, however, are another story. We’ll be walking along, minding our business, and suddenly find ourselves completely surrounded by camera-wielding Arabs. Ten, twenty, thirty at a time, maybe more.

They all want to take her picture. Sometimes they want to take individual pictures with her. Sometimes they want to hold her while taking individual pictures with her. They all want to touch her hair, her cheeks. “Beautiful” they call her.

When we were visiting the Karnak Temple with Uncle David in January we found ourselves accosted by such a crowd and Rachel was stuck posing on some ancient stone for about 15 minutes.

I suppose that’s what we have to deal with for having such a cute (and white) baby. I’m fine with it, for the most part, but Rachel is not. She has this strong aversion to Arabs, to no fault of her own. Whenever she sees one that has spotted her, she screams and runs for me. She refuses to say hello, smile, or flirt for the camera.

“Lei?” they ask, “Why? Why? Why?”

It’s because she knows that you’re not going to say hello and then leave her alone. It’s because she knows there is a 95% chance that you are going to try to pick her up and kiss her face. It’s because she believes in stranger danger—and you taught it to her, not me.

(And that’s my segue into our Luxor trip. That happened like a month and a half ago…)

Self Love

Last night we talked to our families, as we usually do on Sunday nights. When we were getting ready to hang up with Grandma (Andrew's mom), I tried prompting Rachel to say "I love you."

"Say, 'I...love...'" I started.

Rachel didn't wait for me to finish.

"ME!!" she squealed, pounding herself in the chest proudly.

It's true. Everybody loves Rachel.

Leprosarium Service Project

It was hard to wake up on Saturday morning after staying up so late with the girls the night before. We had all signed up to attend the branch service project at the Abu Zaabal Leprosarium—sanding down and repainting the benches in the gardens.

The drive out to the leprosarium involves leaving the main road and heading down a bumpy road. I remember getting a little queasy the last time I was on my way to the leprosarium but this time was awful. I had to trade seats with Sister Lindsay so I could sit by the open window and gulp down the “fresh” air. I was in serious danger of losing my breakfast, but we made it alright and I was fine once I was out of the van and walked around for a few minutes.

I brought Rachel with me and she had a fabulous time “helping” sand the benches. She had her own piece of sandpaper to use but kept going around to steal everyone else’s paper. We were all using rocks and things as sanding blocks so we could keep a better grip on the paper and she was very interested in this technique, I guess, because she probably stole everyone’s rock at least once.

It was really pretty difficult to get anything done with her there. I didn’t really think about that before I signed up. I don’t know why I thought I’d get much accomplished at at service project, while toting Rachel along, if I have a hard time keeping my house in order with her around. She was trying very hard to help; she was just too little.

As the German nurse in charge of our project said, “Poor baby! Everything is no, no, no!”

I tethered Rachel to my wrist with a leash and we sanded as much as we could together, which I felt wasn’t a whole lot. Our contribution was most definitely the “widow’s mite,” or, in our case, the “young-mother-towing-busy-toddler’s mite.” But there were so many people there that we got the benches sanded in no time. There were 19 members from the branch, plus Rachel. You do realize that’s like 25% of our branch. It was an amazing turnout, even without “the husbands.”

Sister Levanan was there and she was so wonderful. She’s been trying to make friends with Rachel for quite some time since she’s a grandma away from her grandkids and Rachel is a grandkid away from her grandmas. She kept singing songs for Rachel, some of which were real and some of which were made up.

My favorite:

When we’re helping we’re happy
And we sing as we go!
For we love to help lepers
For we all love them so!

She also had a song about ponies for Rachel that I thought was really cute. There was a horse at the leprosarium, to pull the benches to where we were working, and Rachel was absolutely terrified of it. She’d scream at it the whole time it was there, almost crying. Then it would leave and she’d say, “Bye-bye! Neigh! Neigh!” and tell everyone, with much excitement and many made-up words about the horse that she saw. Sister Levanan tried to make her feel better about the horse, but it didn’t work because it just reminded Rachel about the horse:

My little pony likes to trot
But I told him he’d better not.
My little pony quite forgot
And trotted far away!

My little pony likes to lope
…something, something, something rope!
something, something told him nope
But he just told me “Neigh!”

I’ll have to ask her about that second verse because it was really a cute song. She also had a song about monkeys. And about every other word anyone said. She reminded me kind of my mom’s aunt Celia, who I never remember meeting but who apparently had a song about anything. My mom used to say that I picked that up from her. But trust me, Sister Levanan sings a whole lot more than I do and by the end of the day Rachel was taking her by the hand and showing her all sorts of things: birds, horse poop, lizards, flowers, ants.

They didn’t have enough paint brushes for everyone at first, so Rachel, Sister Levanan, and I were hanging out while everyone else worked. When they dug up a few more brushes I decided to just keep wandering around with Rachel.

Rachel + Bright Green Paint = Disaster

We watched everyone else work and were feeling pretty useless. Rachel found a little stick that was splayed at the end and used that as her pretend paintbrush. She seemed content to rub it on the bench without dipping it in the paint, which I was happy with.

I was even happier, though, when they brought more benches over to be sanded, though, so that I could feel useful again. We sanded clear until it was time to go and even though we didn’t even go near the paint, Rachel somehow ended up with wet paint all over her hands.

It made her rather nervous, at first. She kept growling and scratching at her hands. Soon she came to accept her new pigmentation and relaxed a bit, only to have me insist that we scrub it off. She seemed to be less happy about cleaning up than she was about getting messy in the first place and opted to leave me and cuddle with Melissa, who was rather green, herself, while we took a quick tour of the complex.

The tour was pretty similar to the last tour I took, but this time we got to see the shoe-making shop instead of the bread shop. They make special shoes for the lepers that have seamless insides and are lined with a non-irritating fabric. They can’t have any seams touch their sores because it aggravates them. They also make special hoes to help people who have lost their toes balance so that they can still walk, as well as making prosthetic limbs. It was very interesting.

On the way home, Rachel sat in the back of the bus and played with Lindsey and Jaehee the whole way, which was nice. They tried teaching her how to make peace signs, taught her how to say barbeque, and many other cool tricks.

I phoned Andrew when we arrived back at the meeting house and asked him to come and meet us. Rachel and I started walking back with Jaehee, Lindsey, and Carolee, knowing that we’d meet up with Andrew at some point on the way home.

She was just initiating a game of 1-2-3-Jump, with the help of me and Jaehee, when she saw Daddy.

“No! No! No! No!” she yelled, gripping firmly onto Jaehee’s leg and waving goodbye to Andrew, somewhat cruelly, “Bye! Bye! Neigh!”

The only translation I can figure is that she wanted Andrew to go back with the horses. She had too much fun hanging out with “the girls” all weekend to have Daddy come home and spoil it!

I thought for sure she’d be excited for him to come home since she had been asking about him all weekend.

“Dada?” she’d asked all day Friday, while signing “where.”

“He’s riding horses. Do you miss him?”

“Yeah.”

We could do the conversation in reverse, too.

“What’s Daddy doing?” I would ask her.

“Neigh! Neigh!” she’d answer, signing “to ride.”

I was impressed that she had understood what he was doing. I just thought she’d be more excited to see him when he got home. After he picked her up and spun her around a few times she decided that having Daddy home was alright, too.

Personally, I was very excited to have Daddy come home. I just about boycotted motherhood for the rest of Saturday, leaving Rachel completely in Andrew’s care.

It was wonderful to have a weekend with the girls but it was even more wonderful to have a Daddy in the house again!

Girls' Night

This weekend Andrew went out of town with the scouts. I was surprised he decided to go because this particular excursion was a horseback riding adventure and Andrew’s last horseback experience didn’t go so well. When Josh called to invite him I said, “I don’t think Andrew will want to go but I’m sure Aden will, so I’ll let him know.”

Andrew overheard me saying this and asked what it was he wouldn’t want to do.

“Go horseback riding from the Great Pyramids to Saqqara and then camp out in the desert.” I informed him.

At first he agreed with me. Five minutes later, though, he had changed his mind and was already calling Josh back. He’s just full of surprises.

Carolee, Jaehee, and I found ourselves husbandless this weekend. Naturally we decided we should keep each other company. We sat together at church, which was wonderful because that meant I still had someone to pass Rachel off to when she got bored with me, and had dinner together on Friday evening, courtesy of Jaehee.

Lindsey came too. Her weekend, which was supposed to be a fun-filled trip to visit her father in Saudi Arabia, took a turn for the worse and she found herself with nothing better to do than hang out with us boring married women.

We were supposed to meet at Carolee’s house for dinner at 6:30. The plumbers were over fixing her bathroom. Their apartment has leaky pipes which have been dripping raw sewage on the floor below them for quite some time now. We’re talking years, probably. Recently it has gotten so bad that the tenant moved out because she had to use an umbrella to use her bathroom. It was high time the plumbers came.

They weren’t supposed to be there at dinnertime, necessarily, since they arrived at 1 in the afternoon, but they were. And thus we had dinner at Carolee’s place so that she didn’t have to be home alone with the plumbers.

We had an awesome dance party…mostly we just watched Rachel twirl around the room, but we all got up and danced some to encourage her to continue. It was a lot of fun!

We didn’t even start eating until the plumbers had left and by this time it was getting close to Rachel’s bedtime. After we had finished eating we went back to our place to put Rachel to bed and play games. Rachel went to bed without a fight, which was nice, and then we played Fluxx and Cutthroat Uno and told stories until late in the night.

I wasn’t lonely one bit. Until everyone went home and it was time to go to bed. The bed was cold and empty and I had to do everything by myself: locking the door, turning off the lights, setting the alarm clock, etc.

As soon as I had gotten in bed, I heard the power go out. The silence was deafening and all I could do was curse Andrew for taking the flashlight with him while I tried to figure out my action plan for in case something was wrong. I might be a little paranoid but sometimes things really are wrong so I don’t think it’s bad to have a plan.

It was late at night though, and too dark, and I was scaring myself so I was glad when everything powered up again two minutes later.

Somehow the soft glow of the alarm clock and the hum of other electrical appliances made the night seem a lot less intrusive and, after lying awake for a few hours, I was able to go to sleep. Alone, for the first time since the NSA debacle (over 2 years ago).

We're okay

So, there was a bomb downtown a few minutes ago at some cafe at the Khan al-Khalili market, across from the Hussein mosque. 4 dead so far, 19ish injured. Grisly stuff.

We're fine, though. We were at the Lewises tonight tutoring and rocking out to Guitar Hero, far away from downtown.

You can follow the latest news here, or follow us on Twitter or Facebook. Twitter rocks. CNN just e-mailed me wanting to know if I was an eyewitness and could be interviewed on air, just because they found me on Twitter. Fortunately/unfortunately I had to decline.

P.S. - We forgot to mention here that Philip Rizk was released from his unlawful detention earlier this week after four days.

Flashback Friday: Earthquake

Soon after my cousin Mindy had Kali, my mom shipped Josie off to California to be her “mother’s helper.” Josie was a minor—I think this was several years ago. I can’t even remember how long, but sadly it’s approximately the same age as Kali, which means I’m not sure how old she is, either. I’m going to take a stab in the dark and say that it was 4 years ago because Kali isn’t in school yet and I wasn’t married at the time Josie went. Kali was about 9 months old when Heather, Mindy’s sister, got married. Heather got married shortly after Andrew and I got married.

And that was a really long way of saying that about 4 years ago Josie went to California to help Mindy out with new baby Kali. And because Josie would have been about 11 and the airlines were being really weird about letting minors fly unaccompanied, getting her to and from California was a little bit of a bother.

She had to have a parent drop her off at the airport and have a prearranged person pick her up, with photo identification and a statement from my mom saying that it was alright, which wasn’t a problem. My mom dropped her off at the airport and said goodbye. Mindy picked her up. That all worked out fine.

Getting her home, however, was another story. Mindy is not one of Josie’s parents so was not allowed to drop her off at the airport meaning that she couldn’t fly home. That could only mean one thing…

Road trip!

So (omitting a lot of details that would make this story super long (and probably offensive to some)) on the appointed day, my mom, my friend Annik, and I packed up the car and left on the long drive to Southern California.

We stayed most of our nights at my Auntie Arlene’s house. She lives about an hour away from my cousin Mindy, but her house is bigger…and closer to the ocean…so we stayed there. My cousin Lance was on some uber cool trip with his friends (doing some cool outdoorsy thing in some South American country) so I got to stay in his room. Annik stayed across the hall from me in my cousin Jenna’s old bedroom. Mom and Josie stayed in the game room.

Early one morning, I believe it was a Sunday, someone started shaking me. I assumed that Josie had been sent in to wake me up to get ready for church.

“Okay, I’m up.” I said, not getting up and still being shaken, “You can stop shaking me now. I’m awake.”

The shaking continued.

“Josie, go away! I’m awake, okay?”

The shaking started to get a little stronger and I realized that my whole bed was shaking, not just me. I then thought that perhaps it was Uncle Michael who had been sent in to wake me up. He’s such a prankster.

“No, really! I’m up!” I said, sitting up and opening my eyes.

I looked around the room. I was completely alone. And I was still being shaken. As was everything in the room.

So, I thought, This is an earthquake.

And then I tried to remember what I had learned in elementary school during our earthquake drills. All I could think of was that there was a self right above my head and a window behind me but I couldn’t remember quite what to do about any of that. All I knew was that was probably bad.

I ran into the hallway because I thought I remembered something about doorways being safe. My mom had just come upstairs to check on us, so I met her in the hallway. Everything was still shaking.

“So,” I said, “This is an earthquake.”

We were the only two who woke up for it. My aunt and uncle, Annik, and Josie all slept right through it. When my aunt got up we told her about the earth quake. She was rather placid about the whole thing.

“Did you see any waves across the floor?” she asked, “Sometimes that’s really neat to see.”

We informed her that we had not seen any waving of the floor.

“Did you at least run out to look at the pool? Sometimes we get little waves in there and water sloshes out.”

We had not gone to look at the pool either.

My aunt thought we had wasted our entire earthquake experience.

I, on the other hand, found it rather surreal. Things were shaking so hard that it took me a few minutes to catch my balance when I got out of bed. It felt like the ground had liquefied under my feet. And it was slightly scary; this was only a little earthquake and the power behind it was stunning.

It’s a good thing we weren’t at Mindy’s house! They were hit far worse! Perhaps I’ll tell their story next week.

The Labeling Game

When I was little my mom would play the “labeling game” with my brother and me. I don’t remember playing it, but apparently we loved it and would ask to play it often.

You can’t really see in this picture, because it’s a picture of a picture taken from far away…but my mom had little flashcards with body parts written on them. She would call out the names of the body parts and we’d let her label our bodies for us. Feet, legs, knees, arms, elbows, stomach, face, etc.

I thought Rachel might enjoy playing this game, too, since she is very much into naming body parts right now. So I got out some scratch paper, wrote a ton of words down, cut them up and asked Rachel if she wanted to play a game with me.

She was a very willing participant at first, lying down on the floor and showing me where her knees were when I called out “Where’s your knee?”

When I went to put the label on her knee, however, she completely wigged out. Each subsequent body part was the same.

“Do you want to show me where your belly button is?”

“Nooo! No, no, no!”

We ended up labeling baby doll, instead. Rachel thought this was much more fun and she was really pretty good at it, too. Apparently she just wanted to be the labeler.

Baby doll was an excellent labelee because she was completely still the whole time. And she didn't fuss one bit.

We tried playing it again this morning and Rachel was a little more comfortable with the idea. Each time I called out a body part, Rachel would take the label from me, hold it, momentarily, on herself, and then would put it, more permanently, on baby doll.

Maybe one day she’ll enjoy this game as much as David and I did as children.

Oranages and Bananas

Rachel and I found ourselves in separate rooms this morning. I try to limit such activities, but occasionally they're bound to occur. While I was in the other room I heard Rachel demanding a banana.

"NANA! NANA!" she yelled.

"Just wait Rachel! Mama will get one! Just wait!"

Getting her own banana would involve getting to the fruit bowl which involves climbing on the table, which I think, as a parent, I'm supposed to discourage for some reason or another. She didn't wait, though, and even before I saw her I could tell that she hadn't because she was no longer yelling. Instead she was sounding very self-satisfied and was singing happily, almost crooning.

"Nana, nana, nana, nana!"

I walked into the room. She wasn't on the table, but she was on one of the chairs. She was cradling a banana in her arms, rocking and stroking it while singing a banana song. When she saw me she held out the banana.

"Hep!" she ordered.

She had already tried to bite through the peel and, unsuccessful, decided to wait until I could help her. I've told her a thousand times that banana peels don't taste very good but she finds biting through the peel so effective that the bad taste doesn't stop her.

"What do you say?" I asked.

"Peeeeeeeese!" she said with her biggest smile.

I opened it for her and handed it back.

"Now what do you say?" I asked a little too late. She had already shoved half the banana in her mouth and couldn't say anything. She nodded her head, though, to let me know that she was grateful.

She polished off her banana in no time, climbed up on the table again (right in front of my eyes--she's quick), and grabbed an orange out of the bowl.

"O-ai!" she said, "O-ai! O-ai!" She signed "More, please," while continuing to yell "O-ai!"

"You just had a banana. You can have an orange at lunch." This simple statement elicited a fantastic temper tantrum.

We ended up coloring as a distraction. She grabbed the orange crayon and snarkily declared "O-ai!" and started coloring with that one. She has such and attitude sometimes!

After coloring for a while we turned on "Little People." During the opening song there is a scene with Eddie waking up to sunshine pouring in his room.

"Eddie!" Rachel squealed.

Sometimes I'm really amazed with Rachel if I just sit back an listen for a few minutes.