The Stitch

The good news is that her foot is NOT broken.

The bad news is that she has to wear a cast for two weeks.

The good news is that she gets to wear a BLUE cast for two weeks and cry, "Holdy me! I can't Walk because I broken! I can't pick up my toys because I broken! Get me that, please, Mommy, I broken! I need jelly beans because I broken! I need to hit the kitty cat because I broken! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Adam can't touch my toys because I broken!"

The bad news is that "I broken" is no longer a valid excuse for ANYTHING, as of today.

with Erin:

I read your blog. Is it really MY fault that your child is a follower?

I swear to all that is white and cotton in my closet, every blessed time we meet up with Erin and her kids, MY kid comes down with an unnerving obsession with her nostrils. She never had any interest in nose goblins until Daphne gleefully demonstrated proper pickin' methods to her.

Last night I sat her on the potty after she'd been playing with Mehitabel's cat food. She was holding a little brown Friskies nugget in her hand, admiring it. I ran out of the room to check on something, and when I returned (in under 14 seconds), the Friskies nugget was gone. I popped a squat next to the childypants and asked, "What happened to the kittycat food?"

Childypants grinned and told me, "It's in my nose."

So, we've survived our first Piper nose-jam incident. I gently plugged one of her nostrils and told her to blow. She did, and with great force, expelled the nugget across the room. She laughed like a child in a Tickle-Me-Elmo factory.

Tonight, when I tucked her in bed, I could feel her wiggling around in the dark next to me. I assumed she was probably doing a little fishing expedition, but didn't want to make a big deal about it, because that's how *I* became neurotic. I learned that she was, indeed, doing a little fishing when she wiped the booger on my bare arm.

Again, Hoorah the joys of TWO.

We've got a few new items to post for you very soon! DeAnna, our fearless seamstress has crafted the finest Dumbledore robes I have ever seen. We've also got a few new gown designs to show off. Stay tuned - busy season is nearing an end, and we'll be back to posting new goodies on a semi-regular basis.

Remember my friend Geoff Roecker who transcribed several letters from Phil Wood?

Well, a director from PBS contacted me asking about those letters and asked if I would put her in touch with Geoff. I did, and Geoff has been working with her on her documentary that will be aired sometime soon on PBS! I don't have any details on when the documentary will be aired, but as soon as I do I will post them.

We just returned from a mini camping trip in Bedofrd, PA. I'll post some pictures as soon as we get them uploaded.

Naptime at Chez Piper, today.

From E-Beth's room: ::a very husky and throaty::: HOP!
:::crashhhhhhh:::

HOP!
:::crashhhhhhh:::

HOP!
:::crashhhhhhh:::

HOP!
:::crashhhhhhh:::

HOP!
:::crashhhhhhh:::

Me: ELIZABETH!!

::ten seconds lapse in silence::

Elizabeth: ::eversosoftly:: yessss?

Me: Please stop with the HOP!

::another ten seconds of silence::

Elizabeth: But I HAS to HOP!

::another ten seconds of silence:::

HOP!
:::crashhhhhhh:::

HOP!
:::crashhhhhhh:::

HOP!
:::crashhhhhhh:::

Me: ELIZABETH!

Elizabeth: But it's not me! It's DOGGIE!!!!

Welcome to potty training.

Day one: She peed on the floor three times in a row. Gave up. Was scolded by Erin for giving up. "Once you do undies you can NOT go back to diapers! Just GO WITH IT!"

Then I heard her mutter under her breath, "what'reya afraid of cleanin' up a little pee or somethin'? You've EATEN worse than pee."

Day two: No accidents. Daddy bought big girl DORA underpants. She was overjoyed. "Do not want to go peepee on Dora's head!" Part of the success may be due to the fact that we're bribing her with jellybeans and marshmallows.

Day four: Two accidents, but I believe they were truly accidents. Halfway through she flashed me a look of horror and cried, "I go peepee on Dora's head, Mommy! Help!" So we rushed to the bathroom and she finished on the "peepee potty."

Day five, Today: Success so far, with the exception of the half-poo she started in the pool. She screamed, "I GOIN' POOPY, MOMMY!" and I whisked her (dripping with pool water) into the bathroom and she FINISHED ON THE POTTY!

I'm declaring success. Maybe I'm a bit premature in doing so. I know we'll have more accidents, and she still isn't able to make it through the night with a dry diaper. But since her Mom was a bed-wetter until, like, the age of twelve or some ridiculously old number, I'm going to give her plenty of time to ease into it.

Because, let me tell you from experience, there's nothing more esteem-building than having to go to your first sleepover wearing RUBBER UNDERPANTS.