Piperism Retrospect

Posted on March 10, 2012 by melissa.scholes.young

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We’ve been busy here at piperism. I started this blog at the beginning of 2012 on a double dog dare. Why not record some of Piper’s antics and adventures? Why not share her unintentional wisdom? We found that we were telling our favorite piperisms to each other anyway. “Wait until I tell you what Piper said.” “Oh. I’ve got a good one. Listen to this piperism.” The material seemed endless.

So, I began without knowing the end. It’s been a leap of faith for this Virgo who loves a list and plans life much in advance. It’s been a surprise to have so many readers and share so many laughs. I’m grateful you stop by. I hope you stay with us. Piper and I are traveling this week. Just the two of us. I’m putting us both on a technology diet, so piperism might be quiet for a few days. We’ll be back, though, new and improved with fresh stories to tell. See you then.

And to tide you over during our hiatus, here are the top ten piperisms of 2012:

Hold On. We’re Going Gaga

Words You Didn’t Know You Needed

Drunk Dialing or Something Like It

Raising Star Wars Girls

Soulmates

A Rainbow of Fruit Flavors

Piper Ruins Your Lunch

I’ll Raise You a Lalaloopsy

You, Too, Could Win the Prize

Sometimes You Get What You Need Part 2

Life Illustrated Part 4

Posted on March 7, 2012 by melissa.scholes.young

You may remember that the Piper isn’t a fan of preschool.

I thought we’d made progress. We’ve moved from screaming fits to benign loathing. Sometimes, though, her discontent at the injustice of daycare seeps through and the truth comes out, even in animal form.

What kind of a writing prompt is that anyway? Poor Kitty.

Need more Life Illustrated? Here’s Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3.

What’s in a Name? Guts.

Posted on February 26, 2012 by melissa.scholes.young

It was the night before my baby shower and all through the house every baby was named except the one in my belly. My sister-in-law arrived with an agenda, having heard a rumor that we were undecided in our task. She’d had twins a few years before, so she has street credibility in the baby naming department. She’s also a media specialist at an elementary school, so if anybody knows how other kids will tease and torture you because of your name, it’s her.

There was a scientific approach to baby naming, she said. It goes like this. We make lists. Everyone gets a veto. No one can go to bed until we decide. Here was our first round:

The name Piper miraculously appeared on each list! Perhaps it was the subversive suggestions from my father. There were other contenders, though, so we made pro/con lists for each finalist.

That “people could freak out” seemed a persuasive enough reason. I floated the name the next day at the baby shower. “We like the name Piper, but I’m not sure I have the guts to actually name her that. People could freak out.”

“True,” my friend Elizabeth said, “but if anybody has the guts, it’s you all.”

It felt like a double dog dare. I couldn’t possibly back down.

Before our final decision, we asked our friend Dash, who was named after the mystery writer Dashiel Hammett and knew all about growing up with an unusual name.

“It’s fine,” Dash said, “as long as she’s not a loser.”

“Did anyone ever give you a hard time?”I asked.

“No. Probably because I’m not a dork.”

So Piper became a Piper and it fits just fine.

What’s in a Name? Guest Blogger: Grandpa

Posted on February 25, 2012 by melissa.scholes.young

I get the “Oh, that’s an interesting name!” response often. Fortunately, most people have enough manners to withhold the “Oh, that’s an interesting child!” response once they’ve experienced a few minutes with the Piper. They’re usually too busy laughing or staring with open mouths. We’ll continue today sorting out the business of how Piper became a Piper. Here we go.

In Grandpa’s second guest blog, he’ll share his Piper naming story:

Grandma and I have always known the secret to Piper. We know why she is the way she is. It’s simply her destiny.

The naming as I see it: I am responsible, at least partially. My great friend Dean and I were on one of our weekly fishing trips. I can’t remember if this was one where we talked and fished or just talked. Many times we have to remind each other to put our lines in the water.

He was telling me the great joy his new great-granddaughter was. Her name is Piper. He told me her name fit perfectly. I asked permission to use Piper in a future, yet to be determined naming opportunity. Since he freely granted permission, I tucked the information away not knowing when that opportunity might present itself.

Now here, I have to be careful. My daughter, Piper’s keeper, is a strong-willed, opinionated woman who does not take direction well. And she wonders where Piper gets her stubbornness. They’re both probably better of for it.

It took some time to slyly suggest the name. I think I said “Piper” in every conversation we had until the great naming ceremony. I said “Piper” when I coughed. I reminded her that her alma mater, Monmouth College, had a Pipe Band and bagpipe players. Apparently it worked.

Piper is the perfect name for this child. The name is English in origin and means “flute player.” And that seems exactly what she is.

Piper lives for joy in the moment. She should be a lesson to us all.

I actually think she is trying to raise us. I hope she succeeds.

Grandpa also offers sage advice about the quest for lalaloopsys. Check it out.

What’s in a Name?

Posted on February 24, 2012 by melissa.scholes.young

Baby naming is a dangerous business. Everyone wants in on it. Everyone is an expert. When people meet Piper, they either love or hate the name. The first time I took her to meet our pediatrician he said, “What? You named her Pepper?” He declared her a healthy baby with insane parents.

There are many versions to the story of how Piper became a Piper. I’ll share a few in the next coming blogs, but here is an article I wrote for Mothering Magazine when I was pregnant with Piper about the perils of baby naming.

http://www.mothering.com/pregnancy-birth/baby-naming-101

For Sissy’s version of the naming of Piper, read this. Stay tuned for more.

Wanted: One Monster Under the Bed

Posted on February 19, 2012 by melissa.scholes.young

Aren’t most kids scared of monsters? Especially the big ones under your bed? I grew up terrified of the grizzly bear in my closet. He was enormous and hairy and had bad breath. My dad took a broom in there every night and swept him out. But Piper isn’t your ordinary kid. She’s seeking a monster under her bed. Maybe it’s my fault for dressing toddler Piper as a scary monster for Halloween.

Or maybe we were all a little scary that year.

That’s blood streaming out of Sissy’s mouth.

So for the sake of my readers and this blog, I asked.

“Piper, why do you want a monster under your bed?”

She didn’t even hesitate. Her plan was all worked out.

“Because when he burps it will shake my bed like a dance party,” she said. “He’s got to be big, though.” Piper demonstrated how big by spreading her arms wide.

Of course he has to be big. Otherwise, his burps would merely jolt your bed and not provide the actual vibrations large enough for dancing.

“Won’t you be scared, Piper? A monster under your bed sounds a little frightening, don’t you think?”

“Well, maybe to you.”

To the Beat of Her Own Drum

Posted on February 1, 2012 by melissa.scholes.young

Piper took a piano lesson last year. Really. Just one. We have an actual live piano taking up half of our living room, so bribing Piper into lessons seemed logical. Her sister has been taking for years and fills our house with melodies. I wanted Piper to learn, too. She looks like a natural, doesn’t she? (Note the rainbow dress, once again)

I romantically imagined thirty whole minutes alone with each kid while the other took lessons. Okay, maybe I was hoping for an hour of reading in the car while parked in the piano teacher’s driveway but anyway…Piper didn’t want to go. Until she realized that the piano teacher had a dog in the house. For many kids this would be a deal breaker, but Piper has always been unreasonably obsessed with dogs. The bigger, the scarier, the better. She thinks barking and growling is cute. To get her to take piano, I did what any well-intentioned mom would do. I bribed her. 3 minutes with Fluffy in exchange for 30 minutes at the piano. I know. I know. But I thought if I could just get her to try, she’d fall for the piano. I believed I could manufacture motivation and increase her desire through exposure. I can hear you snickering at me from afar.

The first lesson actually went okay, but Piper refused to practice afterwards. Not even for M & Ms. Not even with the promise of more dog love. “I already learned how to play, Mom! Remember? I took a lesson.” I reminded Piper that her Sissy takes lessons every week and that she learns something new at each lesson. Piper ignored me and pounded away on the keys playing piano her own way. She refused to go back. I pushed harder. Bribed more. Failed. I kept hearing my grandmother’s voice in the back of my head reminding me that my job as their mother is to help make them the best them they can be not the best me I want them to be. But Grandma hadn’t bought that expensive piano in the living room. And what if Piper just needed a little encouragement to discover her inner virtuoso? So I gave her a choice. “What instrument would you like to play?”

“Violin!” she declared pulling a harmonica from the toy box.

“That’s not a violen, honey. It’s a harmonica.”

“Alright, then. The drums. I want to be a drummer. I love to hit stuff!” Then she flew through the house demonstrating her drumming technique on every piece of furniture and person.

A Rainbow of Fruit Flavors

Posted on January 27, 2012 by melissa.scholes.young

Guest Blogger, Sissy, Age 9:

When Piper was still just an idea, my mom, dad and I were thinking up all sorts of names for the soon-to-be little sibling. Since I was only five I was picking lots of very unusual names for this new child. My favorite was Rainbow. I pushed and pushed for that name and in the end we came to a compromise; the name Iris meaning goddess of the rainbow. Obviously the name did not stick. I’m sort of sad it didn’t, for now it really does suit her, though not as much as Piper. The reason such a strange name would fit? Her wardrobe. You name the clothing article, she has it in rainbow. A rainbow dress, pants, nightgown, bathing suit, and hair accessories. She’s been wearing rainbow this and that since she was little:

I wouldn’t be surprised if she had rainbow underwear. It’s actually grown to be her favorite color. And when I (or anyone else) tried to tell her that rainbow is not in fact a color, but multiple colors, she does not take it very well. “Rainbow is too a color, Sissy! Don’t you know anything? Hey, first one to touch Sandy wins!” This is Piper’s way of changing the subject. She sure is a colorful one.

In case you missed my other guest blog on doing puzzles with Piper, click here.

Mulgated Dinner

Posted on January 19, 2012 by melissa.scholes.young

Having a meal with Piper is like inviting a squirrel and a talking parrot to the same table. She wiggles. She leaps about. She busts out Lady Gaga lyrics in the middle of your sentence. She either hoards all the food or refuses everything on the table. She intentionally drops things under the table so she climb off her chair and explore. She brings back the dropped piece of pasta and some black beans from last night’s dinner. She eats both. She interrupts. We ask her to wait her turn to speak. She waves her hand obnoxiously in the air waiting to be called on. Normal stuff, right? Entirely mulgated. Her dinner manners seem appropriate for the ripe age of four. After twenty seconds of an excruciatingly long wait Piper puts her glass down and smooths the napkin in her lap. Dramatic pause. Then she declares something profound like “I’ve decided not to be human anymore. I’m keeping my options open.” Which logically explains the squirrel and parrot behavior.