Monthly Archives: October 2012

Happy Halloween

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It’s that time of year when we take the knife to the pumpkin flesh and make dreams come true. The tools are sharpened. The pan is oiled for seed roasting. Our pumpkin carnage plans are drawn. Let the slicing begin. First, Princess Leia emerged with her famous side braid ear muffs. Piper colored mini white gourds black and Daddy attached them with nails.

Then Paty Kerry took the stage.

Sissy did her hair. Here’s a side profile so you can get the full effect.

Then we roasted their innards. With sea salt and chipolte. Yum.

And the pumpkin gals hung out together.

I have to wonder if one day some little girl somewhere will be presented with her first pumpkin to carve and declare “Let’s make a Piper!”

Storm Prepping II

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We’re waiting. And waiting. Waiting for Sandy. Storm prepping has been done for days. We’re all bedded down in the basement like it’s a grand slumber party. Schools are closed. The city is shut down. Flashlights are ready. We’ll be carving pumpkins by candlelight.

Piper’s planning, too. “Mom, I have a great idea. Why don’t you ground us now from the TV? That way when the power goes out and we can’t watch it, it’ll be punishment.”

“But you haven’t done anything wrong, P? Why would I ground you?” For the record, Piper has never necessitated a grounding. Sissy was grounded for about five minutes. Once.

“Yeah,” Piper said, continuing her scheme, “but you could ground us now for a future grounding and then we’d not watch TV and it can count for a future punishment.”

“It doesn’t work that way, Piper,” Sissy said.

Storm Prepping

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I know. I know. Sandy is on her way. My mom has called from Florida to make sure we are storm prepping. That’s when you know the weather is about to get real. We’ve got the essentials: water, cash, gas, food, batteries, radio. In the last few years (between the Midwest and the East Coast) we’ve experienced two earthquakes, two derechos, and weeks without power. We know what to do. First and foremost, say good-bye to the beautiful fall foliage. Sandy and her hurricane force winds will steal all the gold. So Piper and I spent some time on our front porch saying adieu to our favorite tree, which we’ve checked in with every day and watched change from green to brilliant red.

Now we’d like that beautiful tree and its pending nakedness to stay right where it is and not on our roof, thank you. Piper has another storm prepping plan.

“If the power goes out, Mom, we should just be naked. Like the tree. That way we won’t have to do laundry since the washing machine won’t work,” said Piper, the professional storm prepper.

Niblets and Gravy

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“Piper, you really should close the curtains before you change your clothes.”

“It’s okay, Mom. I’ve only got niblets.”

***************************************************************************************************

“There’s a big storm on the way, Piper. We may lose power.”

“I’ll eat all the ice cream if you want me to, Mom. Would that be helpful?”

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“What did you do at school today, Piper?”

“I chased Andrew. Pretended to do my school work. And tried to take a nap when I went to the bathroom. Same as always.”

Book Fair Puppy Style

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I busted a move on the dance floor at the elementary school book fair last night. I owned that gym. Sissy told me to stop. Last week I was still cool. This week I’ve become embarrassing. Yet I don’t feel any different at all.

Piper still let me dance, though, or at least shimmy a little in the book fair aisles as we searched for books. She was on a mission. “I will read books if there are puppies involved,” she declared. It’s not too tough at an elementary school book fair to find a book with puppies. This was our first prize:

You and I know there’s no such thing as a “perfect” Thanksgiving, but this darn puppy had to learn the hard way. First she bossed everyone around and then she got all puppy stressed about the decor. You know how it goes. You want things to be right. If they look right and taste right, suddenly your family will be less dysfunctional. We get you, perfect puppy. We’ve all been there. In the end, of course, the puppy’s Thanksgiving meal is a disaster but her family is good enough. Awwww.

But the real takeaway, besides the warm fuzzy message to just breathe, was the next book. I saw Piper’s eyes bulge as she examined it. “Mom,” she said, “I’ve found it. The book I’ve been waiting for my whole life.”

“Really?” I asked. “Your whole life? Wow. It must be special.”

“Oh, it is. Just look.” Then Piper held up the coveted page to me.

A puppy in a tutu? Wow. Just Wow. Not that is a perfect puppy for the Piper

The Hardest Chore of All

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When I was a kid I was convinced that the entire reason my parents had me was to empty their dishwasher. This seemed logical to me. They didn’t want to do the chore. I was free labor. Surely, the cost of my keep was significantly less than a cleaning lady.

I can hear you laughing from here, you know?

The hardest chore of all is actually being the chore enforcer. Here is a list of Piper’s chores, the time it takes her to complete the task, and how many times I have to remind her to do the task until its completion:

Chore:

Set the breakfast table, 18 minutes, 17 reminders

Empty trashes, 42 minutes, 5 reminders (one for each trash can)

Clean room, 2 1/2 hours, 133 reminders

Wash lunch box, 20 minutes, 1 reminder (she actually loves this one)

Put away laundry, 3 days, 406 reminders

I could finish Piper’s chores in about three minutes flat. It would be more efficient for me to just do them myself. It would save me a lot of frustration, too. But I believe in chores. One day Piper will empty the dishwasher all by herself. Without being asked or reminded. I dream big.

Name Your Own Adventure

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We thought long and hard before we named Piper Piper. I’ve written about the pitfalls of “Baby Naming 101” for Mothering. I’ve professed our scientific baby naming process in “What in a Name? Guts.” I’m no baby naming rookie. So I thought we’d gotten it right. She’s a Piper, yes? Of course she is.

From the backseat today, Piper told us she’d made a big decision.

“I don’t want to be Piper anymore,” she said.

“What? Like you don’t want to be you?” Sissy asked.

“No, I’ll still be me. I just don’t want to be Piper. I’m changing my name.”

“Why?” Daddy asked. We’d just swung through the train station and picked him up 13 seconds earlier. Parenting makes you hit the ground running.

“I want a normal name.” My heart sank. This was my biggest fear in naming the Piper Piper. What if she hated it? What if she blames us later for giving her the coolest name on the planet because she doesn’t appreciate its coolness?

“I want to be Rebecca,” Piper said.

“That is a nice name,” I agreed.

“Nope. You’re a Piper,” Sissy insisted.

“Or Rosie.”

“Okay,” Daddy said, “but you’ll probably need to decide.”

“Yeah,” Piper said, “but it’s kind of a big decision.”

I know, Piper. Believe me, I know.

Top Ten Reasons Piper Should Moderate a Presidential Debate

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You have to admit that those presidential debates can be a bit dry. But what if Piper moderated them? That would be worth watching. Here’s why:

10. Everyone would wear tutus.

9. When a response doesn’t make sense, the candidate would have to open fake potato chip cans and release the screaming snake while Piper fact checked them.

8. She’d enforce the rules: No ‘rupting each other. Wait your turn.

7. Mid debate recess break. Wouldn’t everyone be nicer after a few trips down the slide?

6. The water would be in dribble glasses. Parched throat? Help yourself. Snicker. Snicker.

5. Candidates would have to hold hands while debating.

4. Augie gets to ask all the questions from the audience.

3. Bowls of goldfish for snacking. Yum.

2. Time? What time? What’s that?

1. Candidate who farts first, wins.