Scapegoats

Piper’s had a rough week. Stitches. Falls. Fevers. Step Throat. It keeps getting worse. There was also an outbreak of lice in her classroom. On the bright side, Piper doesn’t have lice. So, there’s that, right? Considering she spent a good part of the week in and out of doctor’s offices and on and off our couch, catching lice was low on her list of possibilities. Poor Piper.

Luckily, she figured out what’s been causing her bad luck. She told me all about it this morning.

“Mom, I know why my fever was so high?”

“You do? Why?”

“I don’t want to say it out loud so I’m going to spell it for you.”

“Okay, Piper. I’m ready.”

Piper then used her finger to write J-O-E in the air. That happens to be her father’s name.

“Really? Your dad caused your fever?”

“No, Mom. I spelled Junie. You know, my favorite stuffed animal. Junie.” (Junie stars in most of Piper’s pictures. You can see her illustrated here.)

“Actually, you spelled J-O-E.”

“Whatever. The point is that I think Junie has strep throat. She keeps giving it to me.”

“Huh.”

“Or I’m getting all sweaty because of all those stuffed animals. I’m sleeping with like fifty of those things. I can barely breathe in there, you know.”

Advertisements

Stitches. Again. And Again.

Dear Grown Up Piper,

Once upon a time in kindergarten you fell down. You might remember it. You tripped over Daniel’s foot and landed on your chin. It was a gaping cut. Your poor teacher was traumatized. An ER visit later, you were the proud bearer of four stitches.

A week later you fell again. You busted open the SAME stitches. I swear it’s true. Daniel’s foot was nowhere in sight. You were running in your socks during P.E. Even though I write fiction, I can’t make stuff like this up. Again, back to the doctor. They recommended more stitches.

Here’s the part that you may now be blaming me for. I didn’t let them stitch you back up. There was no medical reason to do so. New stitches would have been purely cosmetic. I did take you to the eye doctor for a full exam. I also had your hearing and ears checked. I also took you to your pediatrician. You’re fine. You’re silly. You bounce around a lot. You fall. You seem rather resilient.

If all of your supermodel dreams have been crushed by now and if you’ve been turned away by potential suitors because of the scar underneath your chin that no one can see, it’s my fault. Blame me. When you’re a mom, you might understand.

Love,

Mom

photo-327

Friends

If you’ve been keeping up with your piperisms, you know that our little spitfire took a tumble last week. She earned herself a trip to the ER and four stitches. The stitches thread is blue, which Piper thinks is awesome. You can read about the drama here.

Yesterday Piper returned to school. She was excited to share her injury. Unfortunately, her mother made her put a band aid on it to keep out additional germs. Moms ruin all the fun. So Piper asked me to take a picture of her gruesome chin and print it. Stitches make for killer show and tell. Piper didn’t mind the attention one little bit.

She came home from school with this note from two of her best buddies.

photo-326

“I am sorry that you fell down. Your friends, Madeline and Kian.”

Fortune Cookies

After our recent trip to the ER (which you can read about here), Piper wanted Chinese food. It’s really the only thing to help you heal from stitches trauma. Doctor’s orders.

And, of course, one of the best parts of Chinese food is the fortune cookie. Piper opened hers and was astonished at her good fortune.

photo-324

“That’s right!” Piper exclaimed. “It’s completely true! Great things DO come from my heart! Like love. And happy stuff. How did they KNOW that?”

Stitches. Again.

Piper is a very brave girl. She even has a badge Sissy made her to prove it. See:

photo-323

How did she earn her brave girl status? Four stitches in her chin. A trip to the ER. Again.

Piper is prone to accidents. I usually just glue her back together. I blogged about my preferred brand of kid glue here. But not even my superglue could mend this nasty gape. Her pediatrician took one look at it and shook his head. Nope. The Emergency Room.

She hardly shed a tear. I told Piper she didn’t have to be so brave. “I know,” Piper said, “I just am.”

I know what you’re thinking. What crazy thing was Piper doing to bust open her precious face? Hanging from the monkey bars? Playing with broken glass? No. Walking. She was walking across the floor in her classroom. Dangerous, right? She was so excited to show Mrs. A her work that she didn’t notice Daniel’s foot hanging out in the aisle. She hit so hard Mrs. A was convinced she wouldn’t have any teeth left. A concussion was mentioned. Poor baby. Poor teacher.

She even got a cool plastic bracelet from the hospital WITH HER NAME ON IT.

“Don’t cut off my bracelet, Mom, whatever you do,” Piper said.

“You want to keep wearing it?”

“Of course. The other kids will think it’s so cool. Then I’ll get lots of attention for my stitches. Kids love that stuff.”

Superglue to the Rescue

Does this look like a place Piper should be playing?

Is it the steep, winding stairs or the potential to plunge to one’s death that attracts Piper? Probably both. How about this?  Does she need to do this?

Why can’t we just visit her sister’s classroom without Piper climbing into a hallway locker? Because she’s Piper.  She’s a risk taker. A brave and crazy soul sent here to test my sanity. She spends most of her day inventing ways to hurt herself.  I spend most of my day keeping her alive.  I’ve lost count of the number of black eyes she’s had.  She’s so banged up and bruised most of the time people give me funny looks in public. I’d have more pictures but I’m busy catching her.  I’d like to stuff her in a little bubble but I know she’d figure out a way to escape or to burst the whole thing.

Rather than running her to the ER for stitches once a week, I bought this:

Now I just superglue her boo boos.  I keep some extra in the car for on-the-go death plunges. But I still have to ask.  As if it’s going to help me much.

“Piper, why do you hurt yourself? Can’t you try to be a little more careful?”

“Well, you see, there’s lots of things in the world and I like lots of space so I can twirl around.” She danced straight into a wall to demonstrate. “And one more thing. I’m little. And I think stuff jumps out at me.”