Category Archives: Antics and Adventures

Life Illustrated Part 3

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You never get a simple answer when you ask a Piper. Her mind works in mysterious ways. Yesterday, her preschool teacher wanted to know what Piper liked.  She only wanted one answer really but that isn’t what she got. This is:

Piper likes jumping but apparently I ruin her fun. At least there is the wind.  Purple wind, which I have to admit would be cool.  Is that like purple rain? Piper also likes to pack her suitcase. She’s used to traveling, especially to Florida. And when she’s not flying somewhere, relishing in purple wind, and breaking dishes, Piper just likes to rock. “What kind of rocking?” I asked. “Lady Gaga rocking,” she said. Of course. Is there any other kind?

Want more Life Illustrated? Check here and here.

Life Illustrated Part 2

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Piper has decided that she’s going to sell some art to raise money for her Lalaloopsy desires. So, here’s one of her latest pieces of art entitled “A Fantastical Parade.” I’ve labeled the parts as she narrated just in case they weren’t entirely obvious. Let the bidding begin.

I think any art that incorporates Jesus and a monkey has to be worth something.  Clearly, this is Piper’s Chipette phase, thus the Eleanor precariously perched on the monkey and Jeanette telling her to “Get off that monkey!” Jeanette sounds reasonable to me.  Much more reasonable then not being about to decide if that blue blob in the lower right corner is the ice cream you’ve dropped of monkey excrement. And if Piper’s art doesn’t raise the necessary funds, I’d pay good money to see that mouse juggle fire.

In case this particular piece isn’t your style, check out this one.

You Know You Have a Valentine’s Day Hangover When…

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…you wake up with new tattoos.

…you get a valentine from a boy named Andrew professing his love (P + A=Love) and he’s not your soulmate.

…you eat chocolate for breakfast. Again.

…you find your goody bag mess from the day before and it doesn’t look as fun.

…you wake up and the first thing you say is “Is it Valentine’s Day again?”

Lost and Found

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Six weeks ago piperism existed only in our hearts and minds. Here is one my favorite pics of Piper’s heart and mind:

So, I decided to blog.  My sister-in-law egged me on. Why not record and share Piper’s hilarity?  Why not write something for fun again and enjoy the process? Surely, at least my mom will read (Thanks for reading, Mom!). More than 7000 hits later, piperism seems to be going strong.  There have been a few…shall we say, accidental followers along the way. I’d like to take a moment to apologize to them.  I’m sorry if piperism led you astray. Here are a few search terms and their actual verbiage (in italics) that have been innocently typed into search engines that resulted in a new piperism reader:

girls that like star wars-Whoever you are, we could be friends.

piperism-Really? 26 searches? It’s sweeping the nation.

darth vader mannequin-You’re weird. That is all.

pull up laxatives-I’m sorry. We can’t help you here. Wishing you potty progress.

Here’s a category I’m not particularly proud of: filthy socks, hoarders for beginners, pictures of stink Nice, Piper, nice.

its okay if you disagree with me i can’t force you to be right-Ooh. Someone’s angry.  Hope the piperism lightened your load.

soulmates resist you-Now that makes me sad. This blog probably isn’t for you. If your soulmate is resisting you, you’ll never get yourself a Piper.

invalidated barbie-Huh? That implies they were ever validated.

utz cheese chips-Clearly, you aren’t listening.  I said the crab utz chips were seasoned crack.  The cheese ones are just regular crack.

lalaloopsy underwear-If that actually exists, Piper is going to go gaga. Again.

girls who love yoda-Sounds like a self-help group for recovering nerd lovers. We’re big fans of yoda and nerds. We get you.

chore chart-This one I totally get.  I think I’ve even searched on that. How else can you prove to your partner how much more you do then them?  It’s all about the score.

mulgated-This actually brought a tear to my eye.  I’m kind of proud. My baby made up a word and two people in this crazy world thought it was real. Sniff.

you don’t need anyone who doesn’t need you-Again, what’s with the anger? I know some good therapists if you need one.

Finally, my personal favorite: tutus and the ballerinas that love them. I couldn’t have said it better myself. Piper in a nutshell. You’ve found your blog.

40 posts later. Here we are.  However you got here, I’m glad you stopped by.  I’m flattered you’re reading. I hope Piper made you laugh or at least helped you see a little more joy in the world. I’ll keep writing and recording the antics and adventures. I’m grateful for the chance. Hope to see you again soon, even if by accident.

 

Life Illustrated Part 1

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One way to get inside Piper’s head is to observe her “art.” I do intend the air quotes, by the way.  This is apparently what my partner and I do on romantic getaways:

First, I don’t wear snuggies in public.  Geez.  And the rainbow dress would never fit Piper’s dad.  I’m certainly not taking somebody’s baby on my date.  And why is there a decapitated moose head next to the poop?  I probably shouldn’t ask. In fact, my questions just get in the way.  To Piper, it just is. Her imagination is a frightening and wonderful place. As it should be.

Drunk Dialing or Something Like It

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Kid tantrums while exhausted are the equivalent of love confessions while drunk.  You can’t believe either one.  Nobody takes them seriously.  Just listen and laugh.  And it’s good to always have a video camera handy.

Piper fell asleep in the car today and woke up in time to meet the new babysitter we were auditioning.  It wasn’t pretty.  Piper was disoriented and angry about the waking up part. Then there was a stranger at her door. The babysitter, however, was awesome.  She came with a stuffed bag of goodies like Mary Poppins.  She asked the girls all the right questions.  Piper took one look at the babysitter’s smile and threw herself on the ground crying. “Why do my parents always leave me alone?” she wailed. We haven’t had a date night in six months.  This was a one hour coffee break.  I peeled Piper off the floor, slung her over my shoulder, and took her to her room.  It’s okay to throw a fit in our house.  If you feel it, fine.  Just do it in your room behind closed doors. Through Piper’s door I could hear her add insult to injury, “That babysitter doesn’t even look like an adult!”  True.  She did look young, but she came highly recommended and we’re a little desperate around here. Piper’s fit ended as quickly as it began.  She swung her bedroom door open and grabbed the babysitter’s hand. We didn’t even get a good-bye wave.

An hour later when we returned Piper declared the new babysitter her best friend.  “Why do my parents always ruin my fun?” she complained loudly as we came in the door.  Clearly, we’d arrived just in time for bed.

Here’s a logging of complaints following a tantrum due to her father’s clearly unreasonable insistence on brushing her hair.  Be sure to watch until the end so you can see Piper’s version of perfectly coiffed hair.

Can You Repeat That?

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This morning Piper and I made blueberry muffins. She likes to “help” by measuring and mixing the dry ingredients and tossing in the fresh blueberries.  But when I start melting butter, Piper runs from the room.  “It smells like snot! It looks like it, too.” She’s a classy girl, I tell you.  And who doesn’t love melted butter?  Come on.  It’s liquid gold.

After breakfast muffins, Sissy was dressing her American Girl in a new ice skating costume her grandmother sent. Apparently ice skating is big in pretend overpriced doll world.  The outfit is adorable, though, and it has all the right accessories:

Piper grabbed the ear muffs and put them on the doll.  “That’s better, isn’t?” she asked. “You were cold.  Now you’ll be toasty in your ear muffins!”  Yummy.

The problem with one of Piper’s verbal mishaps is that we spend the rest of the day egging her on.  We find any reason possible to get her to say the cute thing she just said again. The days of little Piper are numbered.  We’re holding on tight.

Piper’s papa once relabeled all the lemonade in the fridge with a black marker “lemolade” because Piper declared it so. You weren’t allowed to call it anything else.  We still don’t.

Ear muffins and lemolade become part of our vernacular until I can’t remember what we said before Piper changed our lives and our language. We’re better for it. Or at least more entertaining.

Here are more words you didn’t know you needed.

Lady Gaga is in the Kitchen

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What do you get when you mix the Beatles’ “I’ve Just Seen a Face” with Tom Petty’s “Free Fallin'” and Fleetwood Mac’s “Landslide”?

A perfect Piper mash up.  Try it. Sing along. It goes like this: Now I’m freeeeee, freeeeeee fallin’ down the landslide brings you down to where I’ve just seen a face I can’t forget. La da da dee da da. It almost works.  It’s mighty contagious.

Piper can simultaneously switch melodies and provide running commentary on her misinterpretations of lyrics. The girl has talent.  We’re not sure how to market said talent yet, but you can’t deny it’s there. (See Hold On. We’re Going Gaga for more evidence.)

She truly wants to understand how it all works together, thus the mash up. There’s a clear path of ping-pong ball logic if you’re fast enough to follow it.  On the way to preschool this morning, moments after the above musical mash up, Piper was singing Gaga’s “Telephone” and suddenly realized the true reason Gaga wants you to stop calling.  Stop calling. Stop calling. I’m kind of Kanani.  Kind of Kanani.  (Kanani is the coveted American Girl Doll of 2011):

Kanani American Girl Doll of The Year 2011 Paperback Book

“Of course Gaga wants Kanani, but she can’t buy her anymore.  She’s 2011. That’s why you should stop calling, right, Mom?”  I agreed.  Why keep calling if it’s clear that they are artificially controlling the supply of Kanani so they can drive up the prices?  Geez.  Stop calling, Gaga, or check EBay.

We finally decided that Gaga should really just stick to what she’s good at. Baking, of course. Piper sang, “I’ll get him pie. Show him what I got.” Then she interrupted her own self, which is no small task, to try to understand Gaga’s real mission. “Wonder if he likes strawberry pie? I really like peach, don’t you, Mom? Wonder what kind of pie Gaga likes?” These are rhetorical questions.  Piper doesn’t wait for answers.  “Pokerface” continues to play in the background.  “See!  She said muffin! Cause I’m baking with my muffin. Did you hear that?  She’s just like you, Mom.  She loves to bake.”  It’s true.  I do make a mean blueberry muffin. The Gaga and I have so much in common.  I think Gaga would get a girl like Piper.

I’ll Raise You a Lalaloopsy Part Two: Guest Blogger, Grandpa

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Introducing today’s guest blogger: Piper’s grandpa. He wrote in response to the post I’ll Raise You a Lalaloopsy in which Piper almost successfully negotiated a $400 weekly allowance so she could get one of these:

Here’s what my dad had to say on the chores, allowances, and the lalaloopsy issue:

Dear Piper’s Keeper,

As a seasoned negotiator both in capitalism and with children and allowances (also in getting grandchildren to do chores for next to nothing by offering to teach them a lesson),  I’m freely offering my services to settle this lalaloopsy conflict.

First, I think everyone should get allowances, adults as well as children.

I propose the following for consideration:

  1. List all chores to be done.
  2. List all possible participants.  (It would appear the General Manager has successfully done these items based on the chart)
  3. Give each chore an amount.  Here I would suggest using Lalaloopsy currency since it seems understood by all participants.
  4. Let all participants “bid” on each chore.

For instance, consider the following Lalaloopsy schedule:

  • Cleaning the bathroom is a tough chore if done right: 50 Lalaloopsy
  • Vacuuming is easy stuff, at least I thought so until I learned you had to vacuum the wood floors, too (according to your mom):  20 Lalaloopsy
  • Taking out the trash:  It’s a no brainer, except for remembering to put a new trash bag in the kitchen can before you dump the coffee grounds into it:  5  Lalaloopsy
  • Making school lunches should not be on the chore schedule.  If you want to eat, you should make your lunch.  I have to make my own lunch when I go fishing.  I want to eat when I go fishing.  After all, listening to the radio and eating are mainly the reasons I go fishing.  Consider applying the same reasoning to dinner.
  • Laundry:  What could be easier?  It’s not like we have to go down to the stream and beat the underwear clean on a rock.  The machines do everything.  Three loads, white, dark, and other.  Ironing?  That is what they make jackets and dry cleaners for.  Folding laundry and sorting? That’s what they make dressers for.  Besides, you cannot be responsible for the way your children look in public.  Look around you.  Clearly parents are not.  2 Lalaloopsy
  • Cleaning your room:  Unless you are selling your home, the cleanliness of your room should be up to you.  That is what they make doors for.  Sissy has clearly figured out the chore of keeping her room clean.  She sleeps and plays in Piper’s room while leaving hers set up as a picture session for Modern Decorating Magazine.  She’s also cleverly convinced Piper that she sleeps in her room to make Piper more comfortable. Lalaloopsy value? Priceless.

Now, here is the important part.  Have everyone bid on each chore for the amount of Lalaloopsys they think it’s worth.  For example, I love to buy groceries.  I would bid 1 Lalaloopsy on that chore in order to hopefully win it.  Consider that there are only two of you who can drive to the store so it will come down to you and Joe to get this bid.  Joe is not a good shopper.  He is a good list buyer.  You, as the General Manager, can easily make a case for this chore.

Have open bidding, auction style.  I would suggest you watch Storage Wars to get the idea. If you want help setting my proposal and/or the auction up, let me know. I will be happy to bid on it.

With love,

A content grandpa, dad, and husband

Hoarding for Beginners

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Please send help.  Call one of those hoarding shows.  We have a problem.  During a perfectly lovely playdate this afternoon my friend’s baby pulled himself up on the ottoman in our living room and moved the lid ever so slightly.  Just enough for me to discover what Piper had been hiding inside:

Yes, those are dirty socks hoarded away in the ottoman.  And a few pairs of underwear for good measure.  The culprit is clear. The rainbow puppy paw prints on the size 4T undies really gave it away. Apparently, when you’re watching TV on the couch in our house and feeling…shall we say…constricted… you strip off the offending clothing and stuff it in our ottoman.  For weeks. You can put your leftover cereal in there, too, rather than walk the ten feet to the kitchen. Do I need to tell you about the smell?  I couldn’t help myself. I had to ask. “Piper, why did you stuff your dirty clothes and leftover food in there?”

“I’m saving it.”

“For what?”

“Later.”

I understand that kids hoard. They collect stuff, like trash. Some even do so for a useful purpose.  Maybe even like this:

This is what Piper’s big sister does with her own hoarding.  She creates sockfits, which is a full line of Barbie clothing made out of mismatched socks. She designs and sews them herself. Somehow, this hobby has moved my response from reproachful disdain to admirable frugality. Our friends now save the orphaned socks from their laundry and bring them over to our house for fashionable recycling. Piper’s hoarding, though, hasn’t yet evolved.  She’s still in the denial phase.  She doesn’t have a problem.  Isn’t it normal to sleep in a bed with 34 stuffed animals? And doesn’t everyone need seven baby blankets to keep warm at night? There’s hardly a spare inch in the bed for the little hoarder.  And that’s exactly as she likes it.