Civil Disobedience in Your Birthday Suit

Posted on May 6, 2012 by melissa.scholes.young

Piper met Gandhi yesterday in Dupont Circle. It’s where he hangs out, apparently.

“Who’s Gandhi, Mom?”

“He was a great leader who fought for justice in India.”

“Gandhi fought?”

“Well, he practiced nonviolence as protest, but it was a way of fighting for his people.”

“How come he’s naked?”

“He’s not naked, P. He’s wearing a simple robe. Gandhi took a vow of poverty so he didn’t have a lot of clothes and stuff.”

Piper stood looking up at Gandhi for a moment.

“I’d like to be like Gandhi,” she said.

“To fight for justice? I’d be proud, Piper.”

“Specially if I could do it naked.”

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.

Simple Love

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

We found a new park last weekend at Langley by the CIA building. It was designed to be completely handicap accessible, which really means it’s safe for a helicopter parent like me. See how close everything is to the spongy ground? It’s perfect. No death plunges or scraped knees for my daredevils.

It had an awesome carousel, too. A carousel is normally a huge hit with the Piper, but she declared that she’d only ride the horses that did not go up and down.

“The upping and the downing scares me,” Piper decided.

Her Sissy spent a few rounds scouting out which horses were stationary and which moved up and down the pole as they circled. A Sissy will do that for you.

And then she’ll climb on the nearest horse, even if it’s kind of plain, just so she’s close in case the Piper needs her. That’s love. It’s that simple.

What Color is Your Parachute?

Posted on April 30, 2012 by melissa.scholes.young

Piper’s parachute is rainbow. Of course. So yesterday morning when we walked into church and saw an enormous rainbow parachute lying on the ground outside through the glass windows, it tried Piper’s patience. What was the parachute for? When can we play with it? How long until we go outside?

On the fifth Sunday in our church, it’s an intergenerational service. On the other Sundays, the kids stay with us for “first fifteen” and then meet up with their peer groups. Since we were all together today, the parachute had to be for all of us, right? It was. At the end of service we threw open the glass doors that lead from the main sanctuary to the gardens out back. Then, we did what everyone does when they find a rainbow parachute on the ground.

We made a circle, picked up the rainbow parachute, and started bouncing it around. It was like elementary PE class again. Kids and adults alike were shaking the parachute and laughing. We needed a beach ball for the center. Someone shouted, “What do we do now?” With that, Piper dove underneath and ran to the middle of the mushrooming parachute. We couldn’t stop her. We wouldn’t have wanted to. Three seconds later, the other kids followed Piper. Sissy, too. It turned into a kid mosh pit.

There was more parachute shaking, more squeals of delight, more fun for everyone. Really, shouldn’t every day have a dose of pure joy?

Ours do now that we have a Piper.

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)

When in Rome, Eat Chocolate and Data

Posted on April 28, 2012 by melissa.scholes.young

Have you ever wondered what children of academics do for fun? I have your answer. It’s a bit alarming. You’ll want to sit down for this.

A few weeks ago I was invited to be a part of a panel at our university (my partner and I both teach there) for the Delta Phi Epsilon Professional Foreign Service Pi Chapter Sorority. Clearly, it was fancy. They wanted me to talk about “intercultural communication” since I spent some time living and teaching in Brazil. The other professors on the panel were fancy, too. It turned out to be a lively conversation which concluded in me making a public rant against our family policies in this country versus other societies in which I’ve lived. They gave me a brief soapbox, so I took it. The room was full of smart, earnest young women who raised the roof when I lectured on what it really means to be a working mom in a country that is often offended by public breast feeding. They were shocked to learn that as a high school teacher in a public school I didn’t have maternity leave. And if my kids got sick, I went without pay. And that my salary exactly equaled the monthly cost of health insurance and childcare. I was unleashed. In my defense they’d asked why more women didn’t seek public office in our country. I suggested it may have to do with our policies toward families i.e. birth control, childcare, etc. I suggested that my struggles were minimal compared to a woman without an education, a job, healthcare, and an equal partner. Whew.

As a thank you for not actually baring my chest and nursing a child in front of them, the sorority gave me a beautiful pen set and a coffee mug from AU filled with chocolate. Like a good working woman, I was hiding my children outside the door to the lecture hall. My talk concluded at 7:30 p.m. and my partner had to teach at 8:00 so we were doing the childcare shuffle. You’d think Piper and Sissy would be proud of their mom, right? Raising awareness and fighting for their feminist futures, right? Nope. They saw the chocolate and clobbered me.

When we got home, they did what normal kids do: they ate the chocolate.

But then, they began sorting and collecting data.

Piper did the sorting and the eating. Sissy took notes. The children of academics know good data when they see it. So, of course, the next logical step was to prepare a presentation. You have to share your results with other academics, you see. A power point presentation is a must.

Once the research was concluded and the data was collected, they moved on to making meaning out of all of this chocolate. Piper continued to eat the data.

And now you know what the children of academics do for fun and why you don’t ask their mommy a question unless you really want to know the answer.

Life Illustrated Part 7

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

A Piper knows how to get what she wants. Her usual weapon is relentless coercion. Repeating a request fourteen times tends to be persuasive. Her collection of Lalaloopsies is evidence.

Or, she’ll just threaten to cage you until you fork over the cash at the toy store: