Tag Archives: piperism

Free Piper

Posted on by
2

A Piper doesn’t like to conform. I love that about her, but it makes me worry the most. I want to license her free spirit, let Piper be Piper, but I can’t promise that the world will always accept her when she steers from the norm. I’m still learning how to parent a Piper. She’s still teaching me.

Last night at the dinner table when Piper was telling us about her day it was a series of frustrations with what she was supposed to be doing and how she wanted to do it differently. Public schools like conformity. There are lines, procedures, rules. The structure is firm for a good reason, but I’m not sure that the reason works for a kid like Piper. Don’t get me wrong, Piper follows them. I can count on my hand the number of times she’s gotten in trouble and it’s always been for socializing and dancing and singing when it wasn’t time to socialize, dance, and sing. She’s mastered the art of steering as far from the center as she can without landing in danger. “My day was good until this boy at my table started bossing me around,” she said, separating her beloved peppers from the carrots she loathes in her stir fry.

“What did he do, P?” Daddy asked.

“He kept leaning over the table and pointing to my picture. ‘You’re supposed to fill in the balloons’ he said. ‘You’re doing it wrong.’ Geez!”

“Was he trying to help you follow directions?” I asked.

“Who cares? I’m going to do it my way,” Piper said. “Do I have to eat the carrots?”

She knows the rules on this one. You have to eat a serving of vegetables. Which vegetables is up to you. This is how I’ve learned to balance Piper’s strong will with healthy choices. I pick my battles. Piper ate the asparagus and peppers with her tofu and udon noodles. “Can I have water instead of milk?” I gave her both and she drank both.

“I don’t know about this school stuff,” Piper said. “I think I’ll just be a shark when I grow up.”

“That sounds fun,” I said.

“But I won’t bite you, Mommy.”

Cupcakes Wars. It’s About to Get Real.

Posted on by
5

I timed us. It took 92 minutes for Piper, Sissy, and me to make a dozen raspberry lemondade cupcakes. Yum.

Sissy and I made the cake. From scratch. With fresh lemon juice, lemon zest, and homemade raspberry puree. Piper and I made the icing. From scratch. I have powdered sugar in my hair to prove it (Piper did the pouring).

We aren’t ready for Cupcakes Wars, which happens to be our favorite show. During the first round of baking you have to make a dozen cupcakes in 30 minutes. If you make it to the final round, 1000 cupcakes in 2 hours. We aren’t prime time material.

92 minutes isn’t going to cut it. We may do okay in the taste test round, but then again, there weren’t any leftovers to share. Piper ate them all.

Go for the Green

Posted on by
3

Piper’s new kindergarten teacher is a keeper. When Piper grew bored of coloring in her behavior report every day with the same boring green crayon, she let her color the square rainbow. “You’re in charge of you,” Mrs. Adams told her, “you know if you behaved, don’t you?” Piper did. 

When I met Mrs. Adams for the first time, I gushed about how glad we were that she’d shown up for her second day, too. My standards are now that low after Dear Kindergarten Teacher and Help Wanted.

Piper declared Mrs. Adams to be a good hugger. “You kind of just fall into her. I think she’s hugged a lot.”

Mrs. Adams had a positive report, too. “Oh, Piper!” she said. “I get her. I really do.”

And that’s good enough for me.

Can I Play?

Posted on by
8

The hardest part of kindergarten so far is the schedule. Piper complains that all that school stuff cuts into her play time. Recess is never long enough either. So she sneaks in moments of play wherever she can.

There are horse figurines and rocks scattered on the bathroom vanity where Piper played while brushing her teeth. She kneels by her bedside and plays with her stuffed animals while I braid her hair. Toys aren’t allowed at the breakslowfast table, but Piper likes to make her vitamins talk to each other. “It’s time to leave for school!” is always met with “But I was playing!” You can’t watch screens in our house before school either (I’m a real meanie, aren’t I?) so My Little Ponies and Luke Skywalker help Piper put on her shoes. There are also her imaginary friends and the voices in her head to contend with, too.

Bath time and/or her shower necessitates an entire bowl full of plastic jungle animals. The bowl serves as a floating raft in case there is a flood. There is often a flood. Whenever Piper climbs into her booster seat in the car, she first has to remove an army of toys that she left there from the last play session. When reading, Piper has to have representative “guys” to act out the story that’s happening on the page. It takes us a long time to get through a page.

So Saturday morning when Piper wakes up at the crack of dawn and asks “Can I play?” I get to say yes and go back to sleep.

Walking to School

Posted on by
6

Every morning Sissy and Piper walk to school together. They hold hands on their commute. I watch them from a bench on our front porch. You can, too. They’re the ones at the front of the line. You’ll spy Piper’s blue tutu.

Then they walk home together after school. Sissy’s teacher dismisses her first. Piper waits in the kindergarten classroom for her pickup. I’m waiting on the same bench at home for their return, but I can imagine the moment when they see each other again. It’s not a chore they have to do together. Sissy doesn’t think it’s a burden. They enjoy walking to school together and walking home together. They always hold hands. There will be a day, I’m sure, when they won’t. And it will come sooner than I’m ready for, but for now, for this moment, this is the commute, and I’m savoring it.

One afternoon Sissy was a few minutes late picking up Piper. Her art teacher held them over the time to clean up. It worried Piper. “I thought you forgot me,” she told Sissy over their afternoon snack.

“I’d never forget you, P. I was just late,” Sissy explained.

“But I thought you weren’t coming,” Piper said.

Sissy grabbed Piper’s hand. “You’re the most important thing to me in that whole school. I’ll always come get you. I won’t forget. How could I forget you?”

My Family Illustrated

Posted on by
8

For Back to School Night, Piper drew a picture of her family. Here we are:

Piper’s wearing her blue sparkly outfit from the first day of school. That big black thing in the corner is the dog we don’t have but Piper wishes we did. I dearly hope that other blob playing with a purple airplane is not another child but it sure looks like one to me. Her dad clearly needs to shave. We’re standing under a rainbow. Of course.

Dora Has Crabs

Posted on by
2

We have a reader, folks. A reluctant one, but the Piper is definitely reading. I’ve caught her a few times. She read the screen at the drive up ATM from the back seat. She read a sign out her car window today, too. And this afternoon she read me her favorite Dora the Explorer book from start to finish.

Every single word. I had to bribe Piper with a chocolate chip granola bar and a promise to reread the Junie B. Jones Halloween book out loud, but it was worth it. She was quite proud of herself. Smeared with chocolate and beaming. The plot is a total nail biter. Is the baby crab going to find his mami crab? Will he give her the shell necklace? How will we get over those snapping clams? The tension is almost too much.

Spoiler Alert: the baby crab makes it to Shell Island just fine and Dora is finally free of crabs.  Whew.

And the Crowd Goes Wild!

Posted on by
5

Piper’s been her own little cheering squad lately. The girl’s got self esteem of steel. “And the crowd goes wild!” has become her catch phrase. I’m not sure where she picked it up but it seems here to stay. Wherever Piper goes and whatever task she accomplishes, that crowd is right there waiting.

This afternoon Piper buckled herself into her booster seat. All by herself. Then she shouted “And the crowd goes wild!” and gave herself a high five.

I heard a “And the crowd goes wild!” from the bathroom. I didn’t investigate.

She clears her plate from the kitchen table “And the crowd goes wild!” I mean, I’m happy. Don’t get me wrong. Piper’s certainly old enough for chores but this crowd seems pretty easy to please to me.

P.S. We’re meeting Piper’s new kindergarten teacher today! “And the crowd goes wild!”

A Contrarian Smells the Roses

Posted on by
4

Yesterday was Sunday Funday, which means that one lucky member of our family gets to choose something completely cool to do and the rest of us go along with it. Willingly. I’d suggested a picnic at the beach, but the rain suggested otherwise. “I know,” Sissy said, “let’s go to the Botanical Gardens. It’s peaceful and there’s cool stuff for Piper, too.”

“I hate the Botangical Whatever,” Piper said.

“But you don’t even know what they are. There are walking paths and flowers. There’s a jungle room. And you can plants flowers in the Children’s Garden.” Sissy had sold me. I started packing snacks.

“I’m contrary,” Piper declared. “I never have fun. Call me the contrarian. I hate everything.”

For once, Piper was right. She didn’t have any fun at all.

It’s wasn’t fun when she walked the beautiful garden paths with her sister.

It wasn’t fun when her Mommy held her because a Piper couldn’t walk another step. See how miserable she looks?

It was boring when she saw lily pads for the first time. That’s why she screamed “Look! Lily pads! I’ve only seen those in books! Look, Sissy!”

The smelling room was a total snoozer. That’s why we spent an hour taking the tops off of every bottle so that we could smell the herbs, plants, and spices from around the world.

It definitely wasn’t fun when we climbed inside the Venus Fly Trap and pretended we were being eaten alive.

And since that was so boring, we turned ourselves into a family of Venus Fly Traps.

The final miserable chore was to plant flowers in the Children’s Garden. Here’s the little contrarian hating every minute of it.

“I hope next Sunday Funday has some fun in it,” the contrarian said on the drive home.

Me, too. As you can see, we didn’t have any fun at all.

 

A Piper Doesn’t Do That

Posted on by
6

Piper likes to play hard. She’s not as keen on cleaning up.

Last night Piper and Sissy got out their fort making materials: sixteen pillows, two sets of Craniums, every blanket in the house, and every toy they could shove inside. The fort took up most of our basement. It had multiple rooms and multiple pathways to and from the wings. It was fortastic. They played and played. We let them keep it up for friends to come play, too.

This morning it was time to clean it all up. “Before we head to the park, you girls need to clean up the basement,” Dad said.

Sissy climbed off her chair and bounded down the steps. Happily, as far as we know.

Piper didn’t move. She just sat licking maple syrup off of her fork. Then she slowly turned to her dad and said, “A Piper doesn’t like to pick up. A Piper only likes to play.”