Category Archives: Antics and Adventures

Shrinky My Dinky

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If you’re a fan of piperism, you probably already know how much I loathe arts and crafts. Glitter gives me a panic attack. I was forbidden from puffy painting in my sorority. I just can’t make things. But Sissy and Piper love to. They’re both crafty. Sissy has her own sewing machine. She loves embroidery, whatever that means. Being a more is more kind of girl, Piper, too, loves to embellish everything in sight with color, beads, and sparkly stuff. My heart is beating faster just writing this.

I may be the only mother in North America who has never done shrinky dinks. I didn’t even know what they were. A dear friend gave Piper a kit for the holidays. I tried to hide it before she saw it, but she had a playdate the next day and added it to their fun agenda. “Mom, Alex and I can do Shrinky my Dinky tomorrow!  She’ll love it!” Giggle. Snort. I was too busy laughing inappropriately to defend myself.

Creativity for Kids Shrinky Dink Deluxe

So, shrinky my dink they did. It turned out that I didn’t have to do much which is probably why the shrinky dinks turned out at all. Piper even hunted down colored pencils in our house. Sissy had them, of course. After the coloring, Piper and Alex watched the magic in the oven. I may have peeked. It was kind of cool.

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Best part? No mess. Happy kids. Whew.

Fresh. Really Fresh.

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Piper is once again on a stand off with the leftovers. She would prefer every meal made from scratch and hot out of the pan just for her. Who wouldn’t? I get it. But who has time for that? I cook homemade meals 3-4 times per week. My partner cooks dinner twice a week on my teaching days because I get home late. We try to double the recipes so that there are leftovers and plenty for packed lunches. We do what we can.

Piper appreciates her food. She LOVES to eat. Sissy couldn’t care less about food. She HATES to eat. This is how I know that when it comes to meal time, it’s nature and not nurture. They’ve both been raised on a mostly healthy eat at home vegetarian diet, and they both turned out with completely different tastes and habits. Sissy would prefer seaweed and oranges as an after school snack. Piper wants a fried piece of cheese, please. I’m sure there are plenty of things I’ve screwed up for both of them, but I can’t take any credit or blame for their food intake preferences.

Still, Piper peruses our offerings with a close eye. “Is that kalamata olive bread fresh?” Piper asked this week when I offered it to her with homemade soup. I’d even slathered on some butter to moisten it a bit. “I will eat today’s bread or yesterday’s bread but nothing older than that.” Food snob, right? I was immediately transformed into my own mother and gave Piper the starving kids in Africa lecture. It wasn’t pretty.

Last night dinner was running late so I offered guacamole as an appetizer. Piper loves guacamole. She peered into the bowl. “Hmm. That looks a few hours old, Mom. Is it fresh? I mean, really fresh?”

I’ll take that as my cue that Ms. Fresh is indeed ready to join me in the kitchen. Here’s to hoping Chef Piper will soon be at my service.

I’d Like to Thank the Little People

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Piper is busy preparing for her first Power Point presentation. You read that right. In kindergarten. This week she’ll stand before her class and an assembly of parents and present her findings on the origin of pasta fagioli, or as we call it, Piper Soup (recipe included). She did the research and created the presentation at school, but we’ve been practicing her five slides at home. It may send the cute factors into the stratosphere.

“Will you be there for the presentation, Mom?” Piper asked following one of her many practice runs.

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it,” I said.

“Can Sissy come too?”

“Sure. I’ll email her teacher to make sure it’s okay.”

“What about Sissy’s friends? Can they come too?”

“Probably not, but I’ll certainly ask,” I promised.

Piper looked down at the printed copy of her slides. She sighed. “We’re going to need more chairs in the audience. You know, for my fan club.”

A Tale of Two (or Three) Giraffes Part 2

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Have you read A Tale of Two (or Three) Giraffes Part 1?

Here’s part 2:

This afternoon I cleaned out Piper’s backpack. We were searching for her homework, which she likes to stuff really far down in various pockets in hopes that I won’t find it and make her do it. Nice try.

Buried deep down in there were the giraffes magnets that were recently confiscated by Piper’s teacher from the thieving, evil first grader who stole them from Piper’s locker.

Except. Piper had two giraffe magnets. And now we have…

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“Piper, why do you now have three giraffe magnets?” I asked.  “You only had two before.”

“Ugh oh,” Piper said, “maybe I stole HIS giraffe magnet! I’M the thief!”

Don’t worry, dear readers. Piper will be returning the giraffe magnet to the innocent, evil first grade boy first thing tomorrow.

Beach Illustrated

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According to Piper, this is what the beach looks like:

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There is always a rainbow at the beach. Your mommy is always with you. And those big bright shiny things in the sky? That’s how bright the stars are at the beach. Sometimes you see shooting stars, too. Your rainbow protects you from their fall.

Your mom carries a sand bucket and a shovel for you at the beach, too. Oh, and mom is green. Either green was the only crayon available or Piper watched the Wizard of Oz at the beach for the first time. But, really, if your mom was a witch, would she carry your sand castle making implements? I don’t think so.

Miss Manners

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Piper’s been learning about manners this week at school.  Her teacher took the opportunity to suggest some etiquette among the unruly kindergarten masses.

Piper is taking the manners very seriously and correcting our trespasses freely. This from a child who still leaves the bathroom door open so she can talk to us if she gets bored from the potty throne.

“Due to my recent manners training, Mom, I’ve decided to stop picking my nose,” Piper said.

“Sounds good to me,” I nodded.

“But only at the dinner table.”

If You Like Pina Coladas

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We’re breaking in the New Year on an island this year.  It’s the same island we’ve been coming to for more than a decade.  This year our family and friends crew has grown to 18. Some years we have more. Some years we have less. It’s always a grand party with cards, sand castles, and potlucks. Each day begins and ends with sun and sand.

Piper is not much for long walks on the beach. She’s not a fan of the sand and all the places that sand seems to creep. In between bursts of chasing seagulls, Piper needs to rest. She’s always looking for a place to sit, but this secluded paradise doesn’t offer enough actual seating for her taste. “Why doesn’t this beach have more benches and places to sit?” Piper complained.

“Probably because it’s a beach,” Dad offered.

“It needs some chairs!”

Piper had a similar complaint at the zoo. And at the theme parks. And the airport. The girl likes to sit. She seems to tire easily.

“Are you feeling okay, P? You seem worn out a lot,” Dad asked. “Maybe we should take you to the doctor. Or put you to bed earlier.”

“Nah,” Piper said, “there’s nothing really wrong. It’s just my attitude. I have a very bad beach attitude.”

Sweet 16

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One of Piper’s favorite holiday gifts was this thing:

It’s a unicorn. It’s a night light. It’s a pillow. What more could a Piper want?

If you’ve watched any kid’s shows lately on t.v., you’ve probably seen the unicorn pillow pet night light advertised. Piper fell for the propaganda.

“I wanted one of these SOOO bad!” Piper exclaimed as she ripped open the wrapping paper. Grandma and Grandpa watched in adoration.

“See?” Grandma whispered to Grandpa. “Told ya so!”

“I watched all those commercials and wanted this unicorn pillow pet dream light SOOO bad,” Piper said. “But you had to be 16 years old to order it and I’m only 5. The commercial said you had to be 16 or have your parent’s permission. I knew they’d never approve.”

“You could have just pretended to be 16, you know. They’d never know,” Cousin Jillian said. Piper’s eyes grew wide.

“Really?” Piper asked. “I should have done that. Darn. I didn’t know you could do that! That changes EVERYTHING.”

Holiday Hits

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A few holiday piperisms from the road…

“I heard sleigh bells in the middle of the night. I closed my eyes real tight. Santa doesn’t know when you’re faking it.”

“Ah! I fell down! Now I’m damaged! And my limbs do not work properly.”

“Papa, you smell just like my Daddy. He smells like pizza, too.”

“Alright, Santa. I’m ready for next year. Let the list begin.”

“I really like the beach. Except for the sand part.”

And here’s Piper’s vintage holiday dress from Germany:

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Praise to the Piggies

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Piper went to the spa yesterday for the first time. She had her nails done. There were manis and pedis and aunts and cousins.

She picked out her polish. Pink and sparkly pink.

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Then the painting began. “Hold still!” Piper’s polisher commanded.

“This is as still as I get,” Piper informed her. Holding still is not one of Piper’s talents.

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After the painting of nails, there was much “drying.” Piper draped herself over chairs and stools for the sake of “drying.” It took a very long time. She was committed to the outcome, though.

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The “drying” brought about one of those conflicting motherhood moments. I tend toward a policy of containment when it comes to Piper, but the masses find her so adorable that her behavior is encouraged. “Oh, let her be. She’s fine,” I’m told again and again when I try to make Piper aware of other people. The masses usually win.

Post drying, Piper climbed up in my pedicure chair with me. It was the only thing in the spa she had yet to explore. Oh, the buttons. The remote controlled massage chair. “I really like the butt bumps,” Piper said, selecting a lower back massage.

“Now, let’s admire our toes,” she said. And we did.

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