Extreme Slow Food

Posted on May 21, 2012 by melissa.scholes.young

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.

It’s Pho-tastic

Posted on May 18, 2012 by melissa.scholes.young

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

Posted on May 17, 2012 by melissa.scholes.young

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

Posted on May 12, 2012 by melissa.scholes.young

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!”

Accident Prone

Posted on May 11, 2012 by melissa.scholes.young

In the last 24 hours Piper has accumulated two skin knees, three bumps on her head, one nasty papercut, and a monkey bar “incident” that’s far too gruesome to share in polite company. She plays hard. It shows. We always buy the jumbo pack of band aids.

Tonight she was rubbing an itchy eyeball and worried outloud if maybe she didn’t have pink eye again. “You don’t have pink eye, Piper. You never did,” I told her.

“Justin said I did.”

“Justin’s wrong. You didn’t have pink eye. Remember I took you to the doctor three hours before our flight and had you checked? The doctor said it wasn’t pink eye.” Which is also what I told Justin’s dad when he hunted me down in the parking lot post holiday to let me know that Piper had spread pink eye to his whole family and ruined their vacation. I assured him that we’d share our germs some day, but we couldn’t take credit for this particular virus.

“Did I get a Zebra pack?” In Piper speak a Zebra pack means Z-pak antibiotics. It’s a mystery to her why the doctor is always mentioning her favorite zoo animal.

“You didn’t need one, P. You didn’t have pink eye.”

“How about a black eye? Do I have one of those?” Piper asked.

“Not right now you don’t.” I knocked on wood for good measure.

“I sure get a lot of black eyes. Wish they had a Zebra pack for those.”

For once, we agree.

Carnival Invasion

Posted on May 5, 2012 by melissa.scholes.young

Last night we were invited to a Carnival. In our basement. Rosie aka Piper greeted us and guided us through the fun. “I’m the entertainment!” Rosie declared and we followed her lead. She is rather entertaining.

First, we bought our tickets. Sort of.

Since it was our first visit to the Yale Monkey Carnival, my partner and I opted for “one crazy hour.” Rosie aka Piper was a bit bouncy and we weren’t sure we could handle “three wower hours.” That seemed too daunting. When you have a Carnival invade your basement, it’s best to be cordial and escape as soon as possible.

Rosie aka Piper and Sissy were excellent guides and coaches. When we missed throwing the balls into the ball throw, they still cheered us on. I wasn’t very skilled at the ring toss either. Rosie aka Piper kept moving the stick onto which I was supposed to toss the ring. Who can stop bouncing when there is a Carnival in your basement on a Friday night?

After the games, we were offered some “mafreshments.” This turned out to be a fancy tea party, which I have to say I have never had at any other Carnival. Usually it’s warm funnel cakes with powdered sugar. Mmm. Plastic food was plentiful and we dutifully munched on fake peas and crackers.

I was getting a bit famished and sleepy at the Carnival, so I was very grateful for the next activity.

I even earned “stars” toward prizes for taking a good nap. Now that is my kind of Carnival. It even made up for the inedible “mafreshments.”

After my nap, I was a little disoriented so Rosie aka Piper guided me toward the Help Window. The attendant wasn’t all that helpful, though. All she said was “Blah! Blah!” To be honest, I was a little disappointed in the service, but I suppose you get what you pay for, right?

Before we left, we cashed in all the “stars” we’d earned for a prize.

Even after all my poor ring tossing I earned a Lalaloopsy. That’s my kind of Carnival.

It’s an Alligator Eat Shark World

Posted on May 4, 2012 by melissa.scholes.young

Now that Star of the Week is over, we can move on to sorting out the really important things in life. Here’s a backseat conversation between Piper and her Daddy from the ride to ballet:

“Question! Who would win in a fight with an alligator and a shark?” Piper asked.

“Probably an alligator,” Daddy answered. “I think alligators are stronger.”

“But what would they be fighting about anyway?”

“I don’t know, Piper. What would they be fighting about?” Ah, reverse psychology. Nice move, honey.

“You said most people fight about girls or land, Daddy. It’s gotta be a girl.”

“Then the alligator would win the girl from the shark, I suppose.”

“That’s good. Sharks shouldn’t get the girls.”

If you really want to know the outcome, click here to see the actual match of a Crocodile vs Shark.

Passing the Torch

Posted on May 3, 2012 by melissa.scholes.young

The Star of the Week Saga has ended in our home. This is how Piper felt about the whole thing:

Excited. Scared. Frantic. Alarmed. You may remember from my post Star of the Flipping Week: Dripping Sarcasm Alert that I felt something similar. Piper worked it out, though. She played their game. Mostly.

When I asked her how the poster presentation went, Piper said, “I whispered. No one could hear me. No one but me.”

Osama Bin Who?

Posted on May 2, 2012 by melissa.scholes.young

Piper’s daddy was on TV yesterday morning, but she wasn’t impressed. It takes a lot to impress the Piper. The morning news invited him in to talk about the one year anniversary of Bin Laden’s death. He left the house at 4:30 a.m. while we were all sleeping and was back home in bed by 7:00 a.m. He was snoozing through breakfast and Piper suggested he was just being lazy.

“Daddy sure is sleeping in today. He didn’t even say good morning.”

“Daddy was on the news this morning, P,” I explained. “He had to go to the news station in downtown DC very early. He’s catching up on some sleep now before he has to go to work.”

“TV?” That go her attention. “Why was he on TV?” Piper is always shocked that these people who make her meals and used to change her diapers do anything besides cooking and diapering.

“Let’s see,” I said, opening my laptop. “Maybe we can watch him.” I searched through the news site and found what I thought was the video featuring Piper’s dad. It began with a clip of the President.

“Daddy met the President? That is cool!”

“Um. I doubt it. I think he just met the news anchor.”

“Question! Why did they want to talk to daddy anyway?”

“Because daddy studies terrorism and they had questions about it.”

We watched the clip that featured other terrorism experts but Piper’s daddy never came on the screen.

“Guess they didn’t like what he had to say,” Piper concluded. “Sometimes I don’t listen to him either.”

Here is where you can actually watch Piper’s Daddy on TV.

Sleeping With the Enemy

Posted on April 29, 2012 by melissa.scholes.young

Morality seems a funny thing to a preschooler. Piper has been sorting, testing, and trying to understand this whole right and wrong thing. The practice comes with a lot of questions and challenges. You may recall in my post Careless Whispers she wondered if no one hears her say mean things whether they still count. They do. Just so you know.

Piper was having a similar dilemma last night about following rules. It was bedtime and she was knee deep in Barbie drama. She didn’t want to stop playing but she knows the bedtime rule. It’s non negotiable in our house. Kids need sleep. Parents need a break. It’s best for everyone. Thus, the testing began.

“Question! Can I just bring my Barbies to bed with me?” Piper asked.

“You can sleep with them. You can’t play with them, though. It’s time for bed,” I answered.

“But how will you know if I’m playing?”

“Piper, you’ll know you’re breaking a rule. You’ll know it’s not the right thing to do.”

“Question! What happens if I get caught?”

“I will take the Barbies away and I’ll be disappointed that you didn’t follow a rule.”

Piper collected the Barbies and tucked them into bed beside her. She spent a minute rearranging their accessories. Then she rolled away from them.

“Question! Do you check on my at night?”

“Yes, I do. I like to make sure you’re okay.”

“Question! How often do you check on me? And when?”

“Well, I peek in a few minutes after I say good night. Then I look again before I go to bed. And when I wake up early to write, I usually glance in then, too.”

At this point I could see the wheels turning in the Piper mind. She really wanted to play with those Barbies but she really didn’t want to get caught. Would the joy of playing with them outweigh the risk of losing them?

“Ah!” Piper said. “I’ve got it! Can I play with the Barbies in my bed when I wake up?”

“You know the rule. If it’s dark outside, you’re sleeping. Your body needs the rest to be healthy. You can’t wake up in the middle of the night and play. If it’s morning, you can stay in your bed and play with the Barbies.”

That seemed to satisfy the Piper. She said good night to me and to the Barbies. As I was walking out the door, she made her final push toward moral certainty.

“Okay, Mom. But don’t forget to check on me. I’m going to need you to do that.”

Sleeping Beauty (Barbie Golden Book)