Skip to main content

Pipsey-wipsey

I know it's probably hard to believe that this little cherub has been, by far, our naughtiest child to date. She has a temper, which is also hard to believe since Chet and I are both such mild-mannered individuals.

I was tackling a big to-do list last Monday. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Piper run around the house doing what 15 month-old's do.

She started in the kitchen, banging the child-locked cupboard doors open and shut. After that got old, she ran to the other side of the kitchen and dug a handful of garbage out of the garbage can. I scolded her and she promptly put it back. She wiped off the excess on her clean shirt and started at a dead run into the living room, not noticing the vacuum cleaner that was in her way. She tripped, screamed, quickly got over it and continued to run into the living room. She picked up an empty sippy cup, tried to drink out of it, realized it was empty and hurled it across the floor. She ran back to the sippy cup, tried again to drink out of it, shrieked and again hurled it across the floor. I don't think she figured it out the first time. Then she spied her doll stroller. Tucker was playing nicely in his fort in the living room when Piper cruised into the fort, pushing the stroller, crashing into Tucker who then pushed her out of his way, causing Piper to cry and fall over with her doll stroller landing on top of her. She got up and attempted to maneuver the doll stroller over Tucker once again so she could get out. His legs were in her way and she was not happy. Her knuckles turned white on the stroller, her face turned red, her jaw clenched and she shrieked. Tucker, being the gentleman he is, moved his legs and she was able to exit the fort, except for the fact that the roof of the fort fell over her head and she could no longer see. Another temper tantrum ensued. When she was finally able to free herself, she ran back into the kitchen pushing her stroller. She picked up a shoe and threw it in the garbage. She continued on pushing her stroller into the dining room. She crashed it as loud as she could into the baseboard heater and then came running over to me and pointed to the pantry. She was hungry.

This entire scenario happened in less than five minutes. It's no wonder babies sleep for 15 out of 24 hours.

Comments

  1. SelmaOctober 4, 2011 at 7:51 AM

    Hmmm… that sounds remarkably like some of my days on steroids. As I search for information, I come across doors that seem to be childproofed; no matter how hard I try, they just won’t open. Sometime the garbage can is the next best option. When that option truly turns up garbage, I have to head down a different path, tripping over stuff that I didn’t know was there and finding what I think is a choice nugget of information only to have it be some empty promise. Tossing it aside and giving it a second look just confirms the dead end. So…time for another piece of machinery and using it, I run into a road block or two and end up feeling like someone turned the light s off. I agree with Ms. Pipsey Wipsey, it’s time for lunch…or at least a snack.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Real Manly, Chet

It's hard to find the time to blog these days.  I figure once life slows down a bit, I'll start taking more pictures and adding more posts.  But to those I tell that too, they ROFL.  Life doesn't slow down. Chet and I try to squeeze in as many dates as we can, as we hardly even see each other during the week.  Our date on Monday evening started out deciding on a place to eat.  I have to comply with my Weight Watcher's points and Chet is trying to put on weight. So you tell me.  Where do we eat? We ended up getting a Jimmy John's for me (I could eat half) and an Arby's meal for Chet. We were off in search of summer clothes for Chet as his previous summer wardrobe has consisted of clothes he wore to confirmation camp.  In other words, old and out of style.  As I browsed the racks at the store, I noticed something.  Had we just held onto his confo clothes, they would be in style again. His doc warned him that if he didn't start wearing a...
1 comment
Read more

Summer Boredom

Summer boredom is in full-swing for the eldest child of the family.  If I had known it would be this bad, I would have enrolled her in summer school.  I've been laid up with a work injury and have been ordered to take it easy for the rest of my pregnancy so I haven't been the most fun mom to hang around these days.  I mostly give orders from the couch.    My poor children haven't been able to have the summer they had been dreaming of all winter. Like Avery said, "This is the worst summer ever!"    The few days of rain we just had made the ancient wooden door frame of the deck door expand, making the screen door close to impossible to close without slamming it shut.  Avery has been doing most of the slamming as I am mostly incapable of such behavior and one of the times she didn't see Milo on the other side, trying to get in.  His finger got slammed in the door and it swelled to Timbuktu.  Chet brought him into urgent care a few da...
Post a Comment
Read more

Boo-Falo Days

Every year, fireworks come to town on a Friday night.  Since I work every Friday night, I only hear them rattling the windows on my resident's rooms.  Well, sometimes I peek out the blinds and see one or two go off and then reassure my resident that no sir, we are not being bombed.  It's only Buffalo Days fireworks.   We haven't ever been able to bring the kids down to the lake to watch them but who needs to when you can see them from our street corner? Chet let Avery stay up late and he brought her outside to watch them.     And of course, the carnival also comes to town, one block away.  I coughed up $20 bucks on Saturday and treated the older kids to three rides each.  The nice, toothless man allowed Piper to ride for free on this one, as long as I went with her.  And as long as I wouldn't tell anyone.  Oops.  And he said I had to sit in the back because I wouldn't fit in the front. There was a parade o...
Post a Comment
Read more