My 10-year-old son completed a massive, it-takes-a-village-presentation on Bill Gates. He read a biography on him, wrote a book report, and prepared a poster board filled with images and facts and drawings.
It was a six-week project. And let me tell you, it was a doozy.
A little graphics assistance from Dad. A little editing assistance from Mom. A purple plaid shirt borrowed from Sister. And the only tie in the house?
A black satin mafia tie borrowed from Brother.
When my son presented to his classmates and to the parents at Open House, he was full of facts, full of enthusiasm, full of confidence. He nailed it! All by himself.
Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Animals, Children, Nature | Posted on 16-04-2015
If it crawls on the walls or ceilings, hides in the corner, or has made a web at the windowsill, she rescues it.
If it has thick black legs, or long thin legs, or six or eight legs, she rescues it.
If it has wings, a thorax, antennae, or exoskeleton, she rescues it.
Whatever the type of insect or spider, upon discovering it in the house, she promptly gets a glass and gently scoops it up. She places a piece of paper at the top, and scurries outside to release the beast in the wild. Where it was meant to be.
The other day, when she was wiping down the kitchen counter with a washcloth, she accidentally killed a few ants. By her reaction, you would have thought our dog died.
That’s our girl! The compassionate, spider rescuer. (She takes after her father.)
My mother and I once traveled to Antigua, Guatemala to take in all of the ceremony, spiritualness, history, and beauty of Easter Holy Week, or Semana Santa.
For me, that trip was life changing.
We witnessed the making of alfombras, “carpets” made from tiny flower petals placed in the streets. These ornate, detailed carpets were found throughout the streets of this historical town, readied for throngs of processions of the devout. Hundreds of purple-robed men would carry a statue of Jesus on the cross, high above their heads, with marching bands playing mournful music. More information about Semana Santa in Guatemela can be found here.
That was the most colorful and powerful Easter I have ever spent. Although we took this trip 25 years ago, the memories are still as vibrant as the amazing alfombras.
Today, I reflect on that holy trip and how I am so thankful for my mother and her continuous support, love, and teachings.
Photo by Marina K. Villatoro.
Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Family, Fun, Game, Memories | Posted on 25-03-2015
Get a babysitter!
Let’s go out!
It was Battleship.
With my nine-year-old son.
Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Humor | Posted on 23-03-2015
Spring is here!
Time for trees to wake up. Time for flowers to bloom. Time for rainbows.
And time to shave those winter legs.
Sometimes I do something that amazes my children. OK, rarely. But when I do, I relish it and likely write about it.
For example, I made a rainbow cake for St. Patrick’s Day. It wasn’t that hard to make. It was actually a piece of cake. Har har. And the reactions I got?
Mom! You’re the best baker!
This is the best cake you’ve ever made.
It looks amazing!
And stuff like that.
So basically, I was Cake Hero for a day. Actually I was Cake Hero for two days. Because with six towering layers, there was enough left for an after-school cake fest.
Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Humor | Posted on 13-03-2015
A few weeks ago, I had jury duty. There were about 40 of us waiting to be (or not to be) picked as the 12 jurors.
It was a rape case. It was to last at least week. Ugh.
Why couldn’t I get selected to be on a jewel theft case?
My fellow jurors and I did a lot of waiting around. And a lot of talking. I met a big guy named Pete who arrived in his construction clothing. He told me he was called in at the last minute and had to leave his truck at the job site because “I sure as hell ain’t letting someone steal thousands of dollars of equipment.” I nodded in agreement.
Pete has been married for 25 years, has no kids but several brothers, and two very cute dachshunds named Ruger and General. He showed me pictures on his phone. Several.
So I showed him pictures of Otis.
It took six hours to finally select the jury. Pete and I didn’t make the final cut. Whew! So, of course we grinned and fist-bumped. We began the morning as strangers and ended the afternoon as dog-loving-friends.
Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Beauty | Posted on 05-03-2015
Everyone knows that you can’t have rainbows without a little rain.
But what about a little car oil?
Beauty and magic are everywhere. Sometimes you just need to open your eyes.
Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Humor | Posted on 25-02-2015
Farts are funny, especially in a family with children.
Farts come up regularly in our everyday conversations, in jokes, and in pranks. And they come out (also regularly) in the bathtub, in a car with the windows closed. Ew…who farted?!
But you don’t. Ever. Fart. On. My. Newish. Sofa. I bought it at Macy’s.
A book about fart sounds? Right up our alley. In fact, Farts Around the World is quite educational. You learn about farts in Switzerland that resemble goat herding in the Alps. About farts in Jamaica that sound like Reggae music.
So, what’s for dinner? A big ol’ pot of beans. They are good source of fiber and protein. They are cheap. They are delicious. And they provide oh-so-much fun.
Beans. Fueling your body and your sense of humor.
Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Cleaning, Parenting | Posted on 19-02-2015
Oh, Fudge! So much for 40 days without swearing…I blew it on day one.
Clean. Pure. Clear. Fresh. Unpolluted. Uncontaminated.
We have imposed a new-and-improved no swear rule around our house. The swear jar wasn’t very effective, so it morphed into: if you swear, do an extra chore. Here’s a broom. Here’s the toilet scrubbing brush. Here’s a pile of laundry to fold.
Who needs Snow White’s forest friends to clean when you have children with mouths like sailors? :-)
This rule has been so effective that once everyone caught on, the swearing was minimized and the mess returned.
On Tuesday, I spotted dirty dishes mounting in the sink, overflowing onto the counter. And I heard the kids arguing about whose job it was to load the dishwasher. I could not help but yell:
“WHO IS GOING TO DO THESE F’ING DISHES??!!”
Because I had had enough. But no sooner had the words left my mouth, I regretted both my word choices and how extremely loud my voice had transformed in those few seconds.
Yet, the dishes were promtly loaded. And everything–including the language–was clean again. Until day two…