There is no way I can transcribe all of that, but I'm going to try.
The girl climbs into her bed, tosses and turns a bit while we finish shema, then asks me to hold her. I tell her I'll hold her for a couple of minutes.
Over in the meadow in the house of the sun...
The sun went down?
Yes, Sarah Rochel. Shhh.... (I get a couple more lines of the song out)
...lives an old mother fishy
A fishy goes like this. (does a wonderful fish face)
Yes, that was lovely Sarah Rochel. Shh...
Hold me like this, like a nursing this. (she lurches sideways)
Okay, fine, I'll hold you this way. Now shh... (I switch songs to one in Hebrew, hoping for less stimulus)
Meyemini michael umismauli gavriel...
I have a boy Smauli (aside: did she mean Shmuely?) in my gan. I like him. He's nice to me. Not in Morah Shana's gan, in Morah Shoshi's gan. He's not a hitting boy. I don't like hitting boys. There's a boy Kivi in my gan, I like him, he's not a hitting boy, and there's a boy (name hidden to be nice) in my gan, he's a hitting boy.
Oh, does it make you sad when he hits you? (By now I've given up and I'm humming.)
No, he doesn't hit me. He hits someone else.
Oh. (Wise Parental Oh.) Does that make them sad?
Yes. I no hitting. We make nice. In my gan, in my gan, in my gan at Morah Shoshi we eat food, and we no hitting. There's Esti in my gan at Morah Shoshi's, she has curly hair like Sarochel, and we have Ushi Wushi in my gan (aside: that boy's name is Asher) and I like him, he's not a hitting boy. He doesn't wear a kippa.
So maybe he'll wear one when he's bigger.
I don't wear a kippa because I'm a girl. But now I'm not a girl, I'm a boy. Mommy, we need to buy a kippa in the store.
But Sarah Rochel, you're a girl.
No, now I'm a boy. I'm a brother. (aside: no, she's not black, we've just been talking a lot about how girls are sisters and boys are brothers, etc, etc)
Sarah Rochel, did you know only girls can become kallahs? Only girls can become Mommies?
No, I'm a boy! I'm a nice boy.
Okay. Sarah Rochel, you need to get in the bed now. What song do you want me to sing?
Od yishama... kol chason vekol kallah...
Remember, remember I saw a kallah?
I saw a kallah with Bubbie, no, no, I saw kallah with Mama Nechy. I danced with kallah, remember?
Wow, you remember! Very good Sarah Rochel! Now it's time to be quiet.
I like kallah.
Sarah Rochel, SHHH!
I sing another song. I don't stop when she starts talking this time. :)
About 3/4ths of the way through the song, she rolls over and passes out. Well, wouldn't YOU be tired after all that?
Sarah Rochel. Definitely NOT a boy. I have papers to prove it.
In my every-so-often role of SuperMom, a couple days ago when she out of character-ly wanted just to go home in the afternoon, rather than play with a friend, we made homemade playdough*. Lots of fun, cheap, non-toxic, and the food coloring stain only took two days to come off my hand!
Sarah Rochel was almost as proud of her smock as of her wonderful abilities at making snakes. She makes really, really good snakes. Also eels, earthworms, and of course, challah (which oddly resembles a contortionist snake). We also made a girl together - I built the torso and she added details such as nose, ears, mouth, feet the size of the entire girl, a belly, and a very, very large tushy region. This MEANS something...
Special welcome back to the blog to my parents, who have the tremendous blessing of electricity once again! Now we just need the rest of the family - and of Houston - to have it too!
*Recipe: 2 cups flour, 1/2 cup salt, 1 teaspoon oil, 3/4-1 cup of water. Add water gradually and knead.