Julie Pippert: Using My Words

Last night, as I tucked in my oldest and sat with her for a minute, we listened to the frogs. It's spring and rainy so it is time for them to find their happily ever afters. Every night, a plethora of them call to each other. I always imagine they each have their own song, like Happy Feet. It used to bother me, the crazy racket. Then we put in a pond and the frog songs amplified from racket to live concert level loud. You'd think we could have foreseen this but no, we did not. We thought only of managing mosquitos and happily watching koi. So last night, my daughter and I lay in her bed and listened to the frogs. "What do you think they are saying?" she asked me. I paused, wading through the truth, which in my head sounded heavily open air market-like but in a vaguely "Good morning Vietnam-ish," with a little "Dear penthouse..." thrown in way. "They are singing love songs to find their loves," I told her. "What sort of song? How does...

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...

"Remember when the days were long And rolled beneath a deep blue sky Didn't have a care in the world With mommy and daddy standing by" Don Henley, "The End of Innocence" Oh those days will remain long and rolling under blue skies if I have anything to say about it, and as it turns out, I do. Because Patience is and always will be Our Very First Baby Precious Angel Love of Our Life , she is going to have to put up with a lot of parental freak outs---an unduly unfair number above and beyond what her sister will experience. On the flip side, Persistence will have an unduly unfair number of parental exasperations above and beyond what her sister will experience. So it all balances out. Last Thursday Patience got to experience yet another parental freak out, although she had no idea her father and I were totally melting down. We have mastered the art of hiding it well . But I must say...her father melted down WAY worse than me, for the record. He melted down so badly...

If you're feeling a bit skeptical about the promise of Spring, please know it is here, and will arrive there soon. :) In fact, it must be nearly there since it's practically summer here, already: "The air's so heavy, It could drown a butterfly." (Grace Potter, Falling or Flying ) The Southern winds are prevailing, pushing back any north wind attempts to get through here, and cool and dry off the air. It's the hot and wet season, now. Just a quick raw photo, then, in case your weather isn't the same: Marriage and parenthood: are we all insane? The Impressive Clergyman: Mawage. Mawage is wot bwings us togeder tooday. Mawage, that bwessed awangment, that dweam wifin a dweam... [cut to Westley, Inigo, and Fezzik] The Impressive Clergyman: And wuv, tru wuv, will fowow you foweva... [cut to the trio again] The Impressive Clergyman: So tweasure your wuv. Prince Humperdinck: Skip to the end. The Impressive Clergyman: Have you the wing? [cut to the trio once more] ...

It is no question to me that God is real. The proof is in my life, which is clearly one of intelligent design. God has a plan for my life, no doubt, and it involves balance, equal measure of yin and yang. Do not imagine that uttered in the dulcet, ethereally even tones of a spiritual master. No. It's more like...Chevy Chase. In Vacation . "You'll go on this vacation and you'll like it!" I used to think, geez, God is pretty big and busy, you know? Why would he make sure that little old me gets what is coming to her? Then two equal but opposite theories---science and faith---proved that he does. Apparently infinite really means no limit to space and time, at all. I realize the older we get the harder this concept is to grasp---infinite! no limit! all the space and time you want!---and sounds more and more like a myth to dream by, but science and faith both depend upon the apparent reality of the infinite. Since God is and has infinite...he has time to make sure m...

Quite a few people have asked me whether I'm going to BlogHer. Folks, I'd love to go to BlogHer. Here's what needs to happen for that to be possible: * God must drop a bag of gold down from Heaven for me. BlogHer did happen to choose one of the most expensive cities in America for us to fly to and stay in. As much as I adore San Francisco and have some of my happiest memories there, it is, in fact, extremely pricey, and I voted against it because of that. I have applied to BlogHer for a scholarship so with the conference fee traded out for manual labor by me, all I have to find is air fare and a place to stay (box? under a bridge? too bad the trolleys don't run all night...). If they want me as a hat check girl or similar, one of three expenses is covered. The only alternative is if I can think up a really HOT topic and apply to be a speaker. What do you think? Keep in mind that in the last month the following expenses have tragically accumulated for me: * expensive ve...

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...

It was more of a meerkat-y kind of feeling. When we arrived at the Zoo on Saturday, the parking lot was packed. Cars stalked pedestrians exiting the zoo like big cats starved for antelope. Families turned wary eyes to the cars skulking behind them; mothers clutched little ones closer, and fathers hunched protectively over strollers as multiple cars circled their herd. We drove slowly up each row, Ten minutes passed. Fifteen minutes passed. We'd long ago lost my sister's minivan. It was every vehicle for himself. "Go to the front rows," I told my husband, "The early arrivers will be leaving now." He took my suggestion and drove to the very first row. We turned down the row just behind a family who was leaving. We followed them to their car. Another car came from the opposite direction. We both paused, waiting. As the father loaded the toddler into the car seat, the driver of the other car rolled down her window and called the mother over. She slinked over to ...

Little bitty Patience holding newborn Persistence, on her birthday. Itsy bitsy newborn Persistence, who proved that newborns are much hardier than we thought, after all. Yesterday began with big, exciting, happily anticipated news: a new niece! Just before 8:30 a.m. my youngest sister-in-law and her husband welcomed their new daughter. We're very happy, and today are going up to meet her. The kids are beside themselves with excitement---you know, the sort that makes you wonder if visiting is really a good idea. Also, yesterday, while folding laundry in my room, I shamelessly eavesdropped on the kids in the playroom. They were bickering. Patience was explaining that the new baby cousin was a baby baby, not a doll baby, and Persistence---because she's Persistence---argued the other line. I don't really think she thinks this, I think it's just her being her. But they are chattering happily about holding, hugging, squeezing, and so forth. That's sweet and all, but also ...