Tag Archives: parenting

Leash Laws

Posted on by
1

Taking a Piper to the airport is a bit like bringing along a frisky cat. She darts under luggage racks and refuses to yield the aisle, even when a traveler is coming straight at her with rolling bags twice her size. She must touch and sometimes lick every germy surface. There’s so much open space in which to skip and frolic and cool moving escalators and belts. Makes me wish I had a kiddie leash. No judging here.

Even a trip to the bathroom is an adventure. While waiting in a long line in the ladies room, I bent down to check for shoes under the stalls.

“Mom,” Piper said, “I don’t think you’re supposed to look under there at the people. That’s what you always say.” I tried to explain that I was just assessing occupancy, but P had already moved on to her next observation. “Look! Somebody thinks their luggage needs to go potty, too!”

Spy Kid

Posted on by
5

A conversation from our metro ride last night:

“Can you be a spy for a job, Mom?”

“Yes. You can, Piper.”

“Do you have to go to a spy school?”

“You do. There’s a spy school right here in D.C.”

“Good. ‘Cuz I could still be close to you when I’m a spy.”

“I think they want you to stay at your spy school while you’re learning to spy. Maybe we could have lunch, though.”

“Can you spy on your own house?”

“I suppose. It may be boring, though.”

“Okay. I don’t want a house anyway. I want to live in a hotel. And be a spy.”

Stuck in a Compromising Position

Posted on by
8

Piper got stuck today under her bed. Naked. “I was just trying to clean under here!” she claimed when I found her bare booty caught in the slats of her bunk bed. She wiggled like a worm trying to free herself. It wasn’t pretty but it was entertaining.

Why was she wearing her birthday suit, you ask? Good question. I’d showered her post pool and she said she needed time to “air out.” Her room also needed cleaning so the two activities logically fit together. Until she got stuck. Naked.

“Fiddlesticks!” Piper yelled when she realized she was truly jammed in under the bed. “Oh, fiddlesticks!” she said again as I coaxed her exposed limb by exposed limb out. “Ah, air!” she celebrated when she finally bounced up from her confinement and examined herself for splinters. Then she put her hands on her hips and proclaimed “Fiddlesticks!” one more time and took a victory lap. Naked, of course.

Grumpy Naked Guy

Posted on by
13

Grumpy Naked Guy lives in a corner of the Hirshhorn Museum in Downtown D.C.

Piper may be his biggest fan.

She does wonder sometimes why he’s so darn grumpy. That he’s enormous and nude doesn’t phase a Piper at all.

“Why’s Grumpy Naked Guy so grumpy?” Piper asked.

“Maybe because he forgot his underwear?” Daddy suggested.

“Nah. That’s not it.”

“Maybe he’s cold?” I said.

“Nope. Naked isn’t so cold.” Piper does speak from experience.

She studied Grumpy Naked Guy some more. You really can’t help but stare. Especially in certain parts.

“Maybe he just doesn’t like modern art,” Piper finally concluded.

Guest Blogger: Sissy

Posted on by
8

Sissy is guest blogging today!  Here she is:

During lunch yesterday, Piper made this “very ‘aportant” announcement:

“Okay, everyone. See what I’m saying? After lunch, I will be presenting a lalaloopsy play or show. If you need to go to the bathroom, there’s potty breaks. The show is called ‘My Dream’ because me, Piper, dreamed it. I always wanted a lalaloopsy dream, and now I have one! There will be some sad parts, so stick with me. It will be fad-u-lous! Make sure to come!”

Piper promised a show in the afternoon. After a quick trip to the mall and then dinner, she informed us that the title of the show had miraculously changed to “The Five Little Fairies” and that the lalaloopsies were no longer the stars of the show. A lot can change in 4 hours. But when I reminded her of the show thirty minutes later, she replied in her sassiest voice, “Sissy, after this game! We only have three pigs left!” I didn’t ask her what that meant.

I finally got a five minute play out of her, but then there was yet another distraction. A dance party with Daddy sounded so much more fun.

“What happened to the play?” I asked Piper. “I’ve been waiting all day for the show.”

“Show? What show? We need you at the Dance Party! We can’t sing Firework!” she responded.

Apparently, the show must NOT go on.

Yelp!

Posted on by
2

Do you Yelp? Piper’s Daddy is a true yelp devotee. He checks in all the time everywhere we go. He must know not only what other patrons think of the place but how his own rating is valued. If you’re as devoted as Piper’s Daddy, you, too, can earn a meaningless Yelp rank, such as Earl or Duke.  How do you achieve such Yelp status, you ask? I checked their website.

What is the “Yelp Elite Squad”?

The Yelp Elite Squad is our way of recognizing and rewarding yelpers who are active evangelists and role models, both on and off the site. Elite-worthiness is based on a number of things, including well-written reviews, a fleshed-out personal profile, an active voting and complimenting record, and playing nice with others. Members of the Elite Squad are designated by a shiny Elite badge on their account profile.

As an Elite badge carrying member of Yelp, Piper’s Daddy has risen to the ranks of Duke in our favorite restaurant and two local frozen yogurt establishments. We’re very proud.

Last night we went out to eat. Piper’s Daddy was logging on to Yelp in the car as we pulled into the parking lot. He’s a bit competitive, you see. There could be other restaurant patrons inside just waiting to knock him out of his well-earned Duke position. Piper knows how much it means to him.

“Daddy, did you Yelp?”

“I’m logging in right now. I’ll let you know,” he said.

“Are you the Duke?” Piper asked, excitedly.

“I think so. Just a minute.”

“Daddy, you can be the Duke of my love!”

With that kind of status, who needs Yelp?

Tasty Freeze

Posted on by
2

This afternoon we went down to our neighborhood sweet shop, Carmen’s, for a summer treat. Sissy had the gelati, a combination of custard and strawberry lemonade ice. Cousin Tay chose a straight pina colada ice. Piper wanted chocolate anything and multiple trips to the toppings bar. After selecting exactly one of all 26 toppings, Piper delivered the following discovery:

“I know why people cry at weddings. It’s because they’re romantic,” Piper began.

“True,” Sissy agreed, shoveling in more icy goodness. “But why does being romantic make you cry?”

“You see,” Piper continued, “when you’re little, everything is perfect. Then you grow up.”

“And?” Cousin Tay said.

“Your parents cry when you get married because they will miss you,” Piper said. “What else do they have to do? After the wedding, they just go home and cry. Because they’re sad. They’re bored. That makes them cry more. I’m just going to stay little.”

The Best Ingredient

Posted on by
2

After my rant about Piper’s numerous food complaints in “I Hate That,” it seems only fair to share how sweet she can be with food she loves.

Last night Piper dragged in a stack of books for me to read to her as I made dinner. I chopped carrots. I read a book. I chopped celery. She read the book back to me. I brought the broth to a boil and added spices. I read another book. I sauteed seitan and put on a pot for homemade noodles. I read another book. I washed asparagus and spinach. She doused it with olive oil. We put rosemary bread in the oven to warm. Then Piper help set the table and we tasted the soup together.

“You know what makes it taste so good, Mommy?”

“Salt?” I guessed.

“Love. You sweeten it all up.”

Yum.

The Call of the Piper

Posted on by
6

I was raised with wolves. Okay, maybe not wolves. More like Shelties and German Shepherds. We had more than a dozen roaming our property in the woods of rural Missouri.  My baby pictures mostly feature me in a puddle of puppies. I know pack behavior, and I’ve always known that I was an Alpha. Until Piper joined our family. She often challenges my Alpha status. She’s also drawn to four-legged friends. Piper has never met a dog she didn’t love. In one of my favorite baby pictures of Piper she is curled up under the belly of our friend’s dog, Cocoa. Piper had climbed under their kitchen table to cuddle. Cocoa was trying to get some space from her, so Piper held on like a baby kangaroo trying to climb into its mama’s pouch. Cocoa just swept the floor with Piper attached.

Last weekend we went to visit our friend’s farm house in rural Maryland. They brought along their dog, Leo, and Piper spent most of the day trying to be his best friend.

She got to feed Leo his dinner, which she hasn’t stopped talking about since. Leo took a run through the cow pasture and smeared himself good with manure. Piper thought it made him more attractive. When I suggested that she give Leo a little space, Piper growled at me for the first time “Back Off, Mom!”  I was stunned. Piper has a strong will, but she’s never asserted herself so vehemently against mine. A part of me wanted to cheer her on. Another part of me wanted to hump her back into submission. Leo raised his liquid brown eyes to watch. I opened my mouth to bark back…then stopped. She was right. Leo and she were fine. I didn’t need to intrude. An Alpha doesn’t have to fight every battle. Just the right ones. Piper and Leo let the porch door snap shut behind them as they went off to explore.

I Hate That

Posted on by
8

Piper loves trying new things. Usually just so that she can tell us she hates it. She’s an adventurous eater  complainer. Even when we fix her favorite things, like basagna, she gripes about the service. Food hating is all the rage in Piper world.

Here’s a list of foods she’s currently hating: stir fry, hot dogs, green grapes, bananas, salad, corn, apple juice, green beans, grilled cheese sandwiches, cold cereal, and water.

She’d like to subsist on macaroni and cheese. Anytime we put something in front of her that isn’t macaroni and cheese she says the same thing: “I Hate That!” But. Then. She finishes every morsel on her plate. For all of her complaining, she’s a great eater.

Sometimes she forgets to complain at the beginning of the meal, so she saves all of her offenses for after the food is gone. “That wasn’t any good,” Piper says, examining her empty plate. “I didn’t like any of it. Can I have some more, please?”