Extreme Slow Food

We had to call an emergency family meeting tonight. It was about this whole slow food “issue.” I’m not talking about this:

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I’m in to all that. I’m talking about Piper and Sissy’s propensity for taking so long to finish a meal that breakfast runs in to lunch and lunch runs into dinner. We call it brealunner for short. There’s nothing short about it, though. Don’t get me wrong; I enjoy a leisurely pace. I like that we talk so much at meal time. I like that Piper cracks us up. Sissy tells us about her day. Important questions are asked and answered. Meal time is awesome for the first hour. You heard me right. It’s just that we can’t seem to do anything else in our house but make meals, eat meals, and clean up after meals. At this point we’re going to have to start bringing our pillows to the table.

So, we brainstormed (post rant, of course). Sissy suggested a new seating arrangement for less distraction. Done. Piper suggested we all stand up while we eat and stop using utensils and napkins. Vetoed. I suggested a timer simply to make us aware of a reasonable passage of time. Motion carried. Dad suggested we cut down on snacks between meals. Split vote. It was a productive conversation. We began eating.

At the end of our meeting and our successful thirty minute meal, I asked if there were any other issues to discuss. Piper had one.

“You guys are kind of bossy. You’re always telling us what to do. I think you both should work on that. Your bossiness, that is.”

Duly noted.

Maybe I should have sent her to bed without her dinner, but A. she’d already eaten it and B. I was laughing too hard.

Spider-Man to the Rescue

The last time Piper went to Sissy’s piano recital, it wasn’t a complete success. I’m not a total rookie. I know that it’s hard work for a four-year-old to sit still and be reasonably quiet for an hour and a half. I brought along what I call “the quiet bag.” I filled it with stuff that-you guessed it-is supposed to help you be quiet. Crayons, coloring books, suckers, goldfish, books, etc. Each activity occupied Piper for three seconds, so by after the first minute of the recital, she was miserable. We survived, but I’m sure you can imagine how much we enjoyed it. Not much.

What a difference six months and a superhero make. This afternoon, on a whim, I picked up one of these at our neighborhood toy store:

It’s got stickers. You make a picture on a grid. Match up the number on the sticker with the corresponding 1-30 numbered grid. Voila. You have a picture of Spider-Man doing something awesome or fighting off someone evil. Piper completed 8 grids during the recital. She didn’t move a muscle except for her little pincher fingers as she peeled and pasted. I actually listened to piano music and watched Sissy perform three songs without interruption. Sissy played beautifully. Piper seemed to be listening. She was quiet, at least. I was a proud Mama.

“Can we get more of those number puzzle things?” Piper asked on the way to the car.

“Absolutely,” I said. “Spider-Man saved the day.”

It’s Pho-tastic

We took Piper out for her first experience with pho tonight. She promised to at least try everything. First, she ordered fresh spring rolls “without all that green stuff, please,” which meant no lettuce. She basically had a vermicelli noodle and tofu stick left, but she was happy.

Then, came the pho.  We’re vegetarians, so it was your basic bowl of broth, noodles, and veggies. With sriracha sauce, of course. Yum.

Piper peered inside her bowl and asked, “Why is my food all wet?”

Then she began digging around separating the stuff she liked: carbohydrates from the less desired: vegetables. She agreed to the broccoli, though. Piper thinks anything you can eat with chopsticks and cool soup spoons is good. “It’s pho-tastic!” she declared, proud of her little funny.  She ate fistfuls of fresh mint, too.  We tried explaining that it was a meant to complement the soup, but she considered it a main dish. At least her breath was fresh.

“What was your favorite part, Piper?” I asked.

“The bathroom!”

If I Was President

During this presidential election season, it seems only fair that I share Piper’s first official campaign speech. At least that’s what we think it was. It happened during dinner. Sissy asked how Piper’s day was and this is what she got:

“If I was President, I would tell everyone to respect each other and to spend less money on toys. They’re wasting all the city’s money on toys. And guns,” Piper said. I think she even slammed her fist on her napkin for emphasis.

“Um,” Piper’s dad replied, “how would you do that?”

“Well,” the candidate began, “everyone should be kind and no one should fight.”

“And how do we stop people from fighting?” Sissy wondered.

“Like I said, they fight over toys. And guns. So, let’s take those away and no one will fight anymore.”

Candidate Piper managed to avoid the original question, but she won my vote anyway.

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I Picked These For You

Piper brought me flowers today. You may recognize them. They’re probably in your yard, too.  Some people call them weeds. Piper says they’re beautiful; she thinks weeds are useful to hold up the really good flowers. When she thinks of me on her walk home from the park and comes trudging through the door with a fistful of these, my heart is full. It’s more than enough.

Piper Dharma

Your kids teach you things. If you listen. That’s what I’ve learned from Piper.

You should always put your toes in the water. Even if it’s cold. It’s thrilling and the iciness makes you squeal.

Take in the view. With your whole body. You might be able to reach up and touch the sky. At least you should try.

Be silly. And brave. Look yourself straight in the eye and be you.

Be patient. We’re all a work in progress.

Loving You to Pieces

Piper has a history of buying me fragile gifts and then accidentally breaking them shortly after.  She gets too excited. She loves the glass rose with the ‘I Love You, Mom’ ribbon and the sparkly unicorn she painted for me herself. She loves them so much that she wants to hold them and feel them and…oops. Then I’m consoling her for breaking the precious gift. There is an entire shelf in our china cabinet displaying the shattered pieces. They’re still beautiful. Piper and I like to take them out and remember when they were whole.

Thankfully, her gift this year is unbreakable. She told me so when she presented it.

“Look, Mom!  I can’t even mess this one up.  See?  It’s a plastic plate.  I made it myself!”

Since it’s a plate, Piper painted a mouth on it.

“I see the mouth,” I said, “but what’s all the colored stuff in the mouth?”

“That’s what my mouth looks like when I eat a rainbow lollipop!” Of course.

And the plate was put to good use when Piper brought me a menu bright and early on Mother’s Day.

I immediately ordered fresh crepes on my new plate.

Followed by a side of cuddles. They were both delicious.

The Call of the Chipmunk

I’m well known in our family for saying my partner’s name a bit incessantly, perhaps even in a nasally whine. When Sissy was little she used to stand at the bottom of the steps imitating me by yelling up to her father “Joooooeeee!” We thought it was hilarious. You have to be able to laugh at yourself, especially when you’re being ridiculous.

I thought I’d gotten better. I’ve learned the soft start. I don’t nag nearly as much as I used to. I’ve let a lot of things go. See how evolved I am? Piper doesn’t see my progress, though.

“Dad, if you were a chipmunk, you’d be Alvin.”

“Why, Piper, my name starts with a ‘J’?”

“Yeah. But you and Alvin are always getting yelled at. Dave says ‘Allllviiiin!’ and Mom says ‘Jooooeeee!’ the same way.”

Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road? It Was Her Job.

Piper announced at breakfast this morning that she’ll be attending college to become a wedding planning. Dr. Dad almost spit out his coffee. We’re not opposed to wedding planners. I’ve never actually met one, but it sounds like a worthy and fun service. We just have no idea where Piper got the idea.

“Or maybe I’ll be a veterinarian.”

Dr. Dad jumped at the chance. “That makes a lot of sense, Piper. You do love animals.”

“It’s true,” Piper said. “I like to pet every dog I meet.”

“And you’d be helping animals feel better.”

“I’ve got it!” Piper said, switching careers again, “I’m going to be a chicken!”