Julie Pippert: Using My Words

The last few months of 2008 were a little mind-blowing in a "I'll let you know when I've finished processing that" kind of way. Have you ever gotten busy and let your house go? You know what I mean...skip the laundry, dusting, cleaning, tidying, vacuuming and so forth and one day, walk in, notice the mess and dirt and think, "Holy crap, how did it get this big and bad so fast and where in the world do I start?" Have you ever just backed out of the house and decided to find errands to run and a good excuse to eat out in order to avoid the mess and all you have to do? Overwhelmed. I haven't written much because I've been so overwhelmed, and had no way of figuring how to break it down and which one thing to tackle first. The next thing I knew, the things I wanted to say had piled up on top of one another and I? had no time to get to it, but more than that, it was such a cluttered jumble in my mind that I needed to break it down. Let's go back a few ...

Recent work from my little artiste, Patience. Persistence is showing her approaching four. She sneaked into my office and got a pen, which she used on paper she also sneaked from my office and that happened to be an important part of a document. "Oh no!" I said, upon discovering this, "Oh Persistence, what did you do. You went in my office---a no-no---and got my pen and paper---a no-no---and messed up my important work. I am so sad, so disappointed." I took back the pen and paper and walked to the office to return it. I stood and stared at the wall, frustrated and disappointed: why was this child so persistent, why did she not learn, what technique would work, how could I teach her to stay out of my things, oh what to do about this curiosity and getting into things---why wouldn't redirection work? I begged for patience and strength and guidance, and wished this didn't get to me. I was feeling poignantly the stress of a long summer, which felt more like a str...

My mother- and father-in-law just got back from a trip to Alaska. This past Saturday they regaled us with stories and descriptions from their trip. My mother-in-law might have said other things, but what I heard most was: it was cold . I love cold. I love it. My mother-in-law said that Alaska weather reminded her of the time she made that mistake and came to visit us in Boston in late March. I love Boston in late March. It's usually brisk. That year was no exception, with some snowfall lingering still. We decided to tromp around Cambridge---Harvard Square---because my favorite book store was there. My mother-in-law had slacks, a sweatshirt, and a windbreaker, with low-heeled loafers. She was frozen. Near to death. I, on the other hand, was doing a fair impression of Julie Andrews singing and dancing my merry way across the slush in about the same amount of clothing, minus the flats. I had on hiking boots. "You and winter," said my mother-in-law, segueing back from the Mas...

Yesterday we ran out of bread. That surprised me because we don't tend to eat that much bread in my family, and we spread what bread eating we do across a plethora of products (Kashi waffles, bagels, English muffins, etc.). However, apparently this past week saw a big run on the bread and we ran out, on a week I don't have a shopping trip planned.* Of course I didn't even have stale crusts left over from the previous weeks because of the Ginormous Seagull Feeding Disaster.** That's fine, though, because you can't keep a good woman down. I rooted in the pantry and found a box of bread mix. Excellent, I thought, I'll just whip up some homemade bread. The kids can help and we'll have an Activity! Some Fun! The house will smell delicious and we'll have bread for the week! I got the kids set up at their table with "helping" tasks (mixing flour and water) and set to it. Yeast and warm water, check, waiting, mixing bread ingredients, check. Waiting. M...

Image from SurvivalIQ Handbook : Edible and medicinal plants---raspberry, blackberry and dewberry The bush along the bike path to school first sprouted bright red berries about a month ago, right when the rolie polies came out in force. My children, naturalists of course, spotted them immediately. They also immediately wanted to put them in their mouths. "Raspberries!" they shouted, grabbing at the bush. "Wait!" I said, uselessly. "Ouch!" they said, stabbed by thorns. "YUCK!" they said, spitting out the partially chewed berries, and as much taste as they could. "Sigh," I said, as usual wondering when they'd ever learn to listen to me and why the entire myth of natural consequences began. "Step back from the bush," I said, "Close your mouths and open your ears." They hesitated, and looked back at the bush. "Before you grab at any plant or bush, you need to know what it is. Some plants can make you sick or giv...

Bursting beyond the boundaries When she rides her bike, she'll amble along for a bit beside you, but then she'll thrust forward in a burst of speed, eager to be independent and out front. Her legs pump furiously, her bike a blur of pastel, the pink and purple streamers straight out from her handle bars. Her world is one of rules: stop and wait, look for cars, stay with us, don't get too far ahead, need to leave on time, sit quietly at your desk...a seemingly neverending list. But in that moment, she is motion and air and nothing more, boundaries are falling as far behind her as her parents. She already dreams of the day when she has her own house. She aches for the time that she owns her own life, and her mother aches to never tell her that this time--childhood---is the best she'll get of that. The freer you are, the more you owe elsewhere. Irritating injustice Her teacher says her greatest asset is her sense of fairness, and that this normally quiet child will speak ou...

The monkey, her wrenches, and the works. (Available here .) Today...monkeys are throwing wrenches into my works. It's 8:30 in the morning and already shaping up to be one of those days. You know, one of those days---like every other one, only for some reason today you want to bang your head on the wall because that seems to offer relief of some sort. * When I walked into the downstairs half bath, I could immediately tell the Smurfs had broken in to our house because they left little blue handprints all over the wall, sink, mirror, doorknob and door. I'm not sure what they were after in the half bath, but apparently it had something to do with the hand soap, which was mostly gone. So...I cleaned the bathroom. * The kitchen fairies must have been scared away by the Smurfs because when I finally made it to the kitchen, the dishwasher was still full of dishes (clean at least), and the sink was still full of dishes (dirty, sadly). Also, nobody cleaned the Whatever off the bottom of ...

If you ask Persistence how old she is, she'll tell you she's five. She can't quite bring herself to say six, her sister's age. Is it because her sister holds a claim to that number right now, or is it an inherent talent for hyperbole---knowing exactly where the line is that she shouldn't cross? On Saturday at a party several of us were laughing with a neighbor, my friend's husband, and he was spinning yarns about his upcoming trip to Italy. "You need to learn how to lie, Jack," I said, "You go one step past believable. If you'd said you were biking from Paris to Florence, some of us might have partially believed you. But walking?" And we all laughed harder. "Maybe it's intentional," he told me, "I get in trouble for teasing, so I try to make sure I'm way over the top upfront so nobody even starts to believe me." Someone reminded me that I must be a very good liar because everyone thinks I'm truthful. I am ...

When Patience was four... "I like Heaven," she said, "because I love Kiki, and she's in Heaven." She looked sad for a moment, and in classic form, switched to say, "I like Care Bear fruit snacks too." Then she blew a raspberry. "Did you know," she said around her candy-masquerading-as-nutritious snack, "Did you know that tadpoles turn into frogs ?" She stared at me intently. "Yes," I said, "I did know that. What do you think about that?" "Well," she dug in her cellophane packet for a moment, "Look look Funshine Bear!" She popped it in her mouth and chewed with verve. "They turn into something else. They know what they are going to be. Do we turn into something else? Do we know what we're going to be?" Sometimes, I don't know whether she means something literally, or if she really is grappling with a metaphysical issue. Before I can decide in this case, she's off on anoth...

Last night we had storms come through and were under a tornado watch until three a.m. Because two tornadoes did touch down just south of us, and still antsy from the recent tragedies north of us in Tennessee, we decided to sleep with the radio on in case they ran the siren alert through the emergency broadcast system. Used to silence, so to speak, at night, the unusual noise and changes from one symphony to another would periodically trigger my brain to sit up and sniff like a curious dog. These brief moments of wakefulness would, I knew, lead me to wake with a fatigue restless night's sleep headache, but also gave me uninterrupted time to think---which in my case means storytell. So I decided to write up the top two stories from the last few days. Today, a tale of romance and friendship...tomorrow a tale of something lost and something found, with humor and a twist. What's Love Thursday morning---Valentine's Day---we came downstairs long after my husband had already left f...

I realize I have promised three weighty topics to you, including but not limited to free speech on blogs, more on healthcare, and kids and blogs. However, I have a full agenda of To Dos today and oh, yeah, I'm still sick. So I decided to take it easy today and figured you'd have no objections. I thought it was time for a true and real portrait of my life. This is me on the average day in my momiform and mode of transportation to and from school: I call it the suburban rickshaw. I believe people in the neighborhood set their watches by me. I also believe they count on the little chuckle they get when they see me. Here's how it goes: chuckle, glance at watch, chuckle again. I don't actually just suspect it: they'll tell me. "I see you every morning just pedaling away trying to beat the tardy bell," says a friend with a smile, "You're like the perfect suburban mom with that bike and trailer and your little momiform on. Gives me a chuckle every day....

Two years ago, I wrote, "I do all that I do from love; my doing is an outward manifestation of that love. However, once I put it out there, it is no longer just mine. It will be viewed from a different angle and perspective, and might be missed, or misinterpreted. At the end of the day, I always hope that I get the benefit of the doubt or suspension of disbelief and all that I do is understood as being done from love. With kids, though, you don't always know. Lately, my daughter has been convinced I am so mean and out to ruin her day. Perhaps she thinks I lie awake at night plotting. It's okay to laugh. I have to, but I admit, a little piece of my heart breaks every time." We have entered this stage again. Yesterday, as we left a birthday party at which the girls had delightedly run, played, laughed and enjoyed, Patience's souvenir balloon popped. What a metaphor. Patience is troubled with endings, anyway, but the endings and transitions, I've found, can be ea...

Every night our mom tells us: Tidy Up Wash Up Brush Up Go up To Bed Every night we tell our mom: We don't want to! One more book! Can we play a game? Every night our mom tells us: I know Time for bed Time for bed Every night we tell our mom: But why? Why do we have to go to bed? Every night our mom tells us: Because your little bodies need sleep. One night we were in the office doing a craft and mom told us it was time for bed. We said no, she said yes, and she carried me upstairs first. She looked at my little sister Persistence and said, "Wait right here, please, I'll be right back!" But Persistence isn't very good at listening. She keeps her ears closed and her mouth open. Mom says she is a learning child and I think she better learn fast, because here's what she did. When Mom got back, Persistence had climbed up the cabinet and gotten the paint out. She dumped it everywhere. All over herself, the floor and worst of all, our poor cat! I heard Mom yell, ...

Patience and Persistence wanted in on this blog thing, so I agreed to let them have an entry. However, faced with two obstacles (blank page and no ability to draw in this window) we compromised on an interview. Mom: What's your favorite song? Patience: Blackbird (the Sarah MacLachlan version) and Upside Down from Georgie (Jack Johnson). Persistence: No! Tissy can't have Georgie! Georgie's MINE! Mom: It's okay that two people like the same song. I'm glad when someone else likes the same music I do because then we can talk about it. So Pers, what's your favorite song? Persistence: GEORGIE! ( Upside Down by Jack Johnson) Mom: Any others? Persistence: WOO HOO SONG! ( Big Black Horse and a Cherry Tree by KT Tunstall) Mom: Tell me about your favorite friend. Persistence: SABI! Mom: You've known Sabi your whole life, right? Persistence: YES! Sabi habing birthday like I hab birthday! Mom: True! Your birthdays are really close together. Patience: My friends play ...

Life is a study in discord, chaos and catastrophe right now. I have developed a habit of breaking things down, one by one, in my mind so that they don't seem overwhelming to my head. I have not mastered this skill for my heart. My heart murmurs quietly inside my chest, its demure speechlessness no match for the big voice of my mind. It's so easy to listen to directive and solid words, thought out loud or stuck inside to rattle around my skull. It's harder to stop and let the heart have its say, simply feel. I find myself flailing, crying out in a childish and needy voice, "Hear me, HEAR ME, I am lost in this mess, but it is my job to guide everyone out and clear it up." Except I do not use such precise and clear language. Instead, like my children, I focus on the minute and concrete, "What a mess! We need to tidy up the playroom!" "Who left these shoes in the center of the hall? They need to be in the shoe shelf!" "Markers and crayons nee...