Hey! Maybe they can make pumpkin pie from the head! And other news...

Perfect Compliment and Perfect Post Awards

I'm not even going to pretend to be humble. The surprise, however, was real.

I GOT AN AWARD!

A PERFECT POST AWARD!

I like it, I love it, I can't stand myself I'm so moved!

Masked Mom, my new best friend who I did not even bribe or beg to nominate me, put my Parenting as if I might get hit by a bus tomorrow post up for the award.

As I told Masked Mom, when a really good blogger nominates you it's like total huge warm fuzzy compliment. Many thanks to her.

And to stand next to such august company over there at Suburban Turmoil and Petroville. I am listed alongside some of my favorite bloggers, such as Petroville, One Plus Two, Under the Mad Hat, Girl Con Queso, Mom 101, Chicky Chicky Baby. I read the blogs of nominators and nominees and wow, those are some good blogs out there with some awesome posts.

Go check out the entire list of Perfect Post Award Winners.

Perfectly Funny Comment

After last night---blog story to follow when I find my sense of humor about it all---my brain was so fried I decide to plug the children into the television while I showered. Persistence wanted me to sit with her for a minute so I made the mistake of doing that. When sleep-deprived and exhausted (yes, they are different) one should never stop moving. Be like a shark, be the shark, just keep swimming!

But I sat.

And I zoned.

I was vaguely aware that Sprout was assaulting what little of my senses remained with Bob the Builder but fortunately I'm halfway to brain dead so it had very little impact.

(As an aside, please, a shovel to the head before any more Bob or no, wait, let's save that for Angelina Ballerina. Seriously. Who likes that whiny little rodent? Please. Stick up for girlfriend or well, I'll feel free to trash her, liberally someday. Kipper, even WonderPets but SPARE ME THE MOUSE!)

Okay so Bob. As usual Spud is up to his antics. It apparently involved a camera rather than large machinery this time, and as usual in the end, his behavior merely warranted a guffaw by Bob in the end.

Patience was watching with an unusual level of attention. Her eyes were narrowed and she had on her Thinking Hard Face.

She turned to me, "Hey, Mom?"

I braced myself for some Complex Question that Would Tax My .25% Remaining Brain Power Likely Resulting in Smoke From the Ears and Inarticulate Stuttering from Mouth.

"Yes, sweetie?"

"Do you think they'll ever make a pie out of Spud's head?"

Snort. Snort snort. BWAHAHAHAHAHA

And before my brain could scream, NO, no DO NOT SAY IT! I replied, "One can only hope."

And she says, "Yep, one can only hope. That would be yum yum good. I love me some pumpkin pie."

I cried I laughed so hard and did not even care that it offended her because she was totally serious.

Please tell me you also have visions of sugared Spud dancing in your head. Please.

copyright all text and images Julie Pippert, 2007.

Restaurant Trauma in Texas: How eating out prompted a really uncomfortable lesson about culture

WARNING: This is NOT a family-friendly post, aka the warning I WISH I'd gotten yesterday before I walked in. Yesterday was a Holiday. I hope you heard the scare quotes around that. Yeah, when you are an adult here is how holidays work: you, same workload as always, kids WOO HOO NO SCHOOL FREEDOM. Do the equation. The result is the day I had yesterday. If math isn't your strong suit I'm pretty sure you can still add that up but just in case let's say the highlight of the afternoon included me dumping out the mismatched sock basket and telling the children to have at it, in a way very reminiscent of Miss Hannigan of Annie . Anyway luckily I've taught my kids that Chores are Fun! and they had a good time. Later, I cranked up the fun-o-meter on a bank errand by dropping in the Halloween store to check out costumes, and upped the ante on "Mom needs new running shoes" by tacking on a "Hey let's eat out at a restaurant!" My husband was able to join ...

If I Could Talk To Him One More Time, Today (a Monday Mission)

This is part of the Monday Mission. We're to leave a voice mail. Check out Painted Maypole's spot for more... "Hi...umm...Mitch? It's Julie, Julie from high school. I doubt you remember me; we only knew each other for about five minutes. You mowed our lawn a few times, dated my friend's sister, and were in my AP English class senior year. That's why I'm calling---about what you did in the English class. It made a lasting impression, really made a difference in my life. That probably sounds dramatic but it's true. You see, I'd spent a lot of years being the kid who fell through the cracks in school. I think by high school I'd gotten tired of being the good enough and compliant student. Senior year, I was one inch from dropping out, and I probably would have if I'd had the guts or I thought my parents would let me get away with it. Instead, I just created a lot of unnecessary sturm and drang for myself, and cut school so much that by the end ...

Me Talk Big One Day (A Hump Day Hmm for 2-20-2008)

Image source and story of image: National Galleries of Scotland If you were to ask me, I'd tell you that I tend to say things other people dare not say. I speak my mind. I don't always coat my words with a generous dollop of ass kissing. Many people consider averted eyes, swallowed words, and sugar coating their due. Skipping this is perceived as disrespectful. It never quite got me to bite my tongue, though, even at times I perhaps should have. I was bold, arrogant, and defensive about this, as the youth often are about their immaturity. But as I entered my mid-thirties and beyond, I began noticing a disturbing pattern: a tendency to swallow my words and sugarcoat. Was this maturity? Wisdom? Or was it a desire to please? Was I tired and worn down? I sat down and looked backwards--- Russo-style , through the opposite end of the telescope---and tried to figure out if I'd ever been as bold out loud as I was in my mind. Was I? Had I been? Could I be? Should I? I believe I was...

Julie Pippert: Using My Words

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