peskypippi.comBecause I have a lot to say…

Easter is upon us.

Chocolate bunny ears to nibble! Colored eggs to search for! Tight dresses to squeeze into!

Better, hop to it!

However you celebrate St. Patrick’s Day, may you get lucky.

Wink.

May today be the day that you frolic naked in a field. And water the heart flowers with green watering cans.

Or whatever makes your heart sing.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

XO,
Pippi

I’m impressed with artsy-and-crafty people and their creations. See below for some very cool ideas I have spotted for Valentine’s Day. But let it be known that I am not one of them. Sure, I make giant cookies. Sure, I made Valentines for my classmates out of doilies when I was a kid. But that’s where my crafty talents end. Read my Screw You, Martha Stewart post here if you’d like elaboration.

Are you looking for a really simple Valentine’s Day project to do with your kids? Simply, pack them into the car and drive to the grocery store. Have them select their favorite boxed Valentine’s Day cards to give to their classmates.

We opted for “Furry Animals” and “Star Wars” Valentines. Tape on a ring pop. And…we’re done.

And, really, nothing says I love you quite like Darth Vader.

It seems to me that a child ought to go to school to learn. To play. To socialize. To thrive.

And that a child shouldn’t fear for his life when he is adding, writing about his favorite family Holiday traditions, and playing kickball.

A child shouldn’t have to fear shootings and killings. While at school. Or at the mall, when visiting Santa.

Within one week, there have been two horrific happenings in my lovely U.S.A. A shooting in a mall. And a shooting in an elementary school. Folks, several Kindergartners are now dead.

All I can think is: Their parents sent them off to school to add, write about their favorite family Holiday traditions, and to play kickball. Their parents did not send them to school, only to have them killed and to never return. This is the saddest, most horrific thing.

I can only imagine what the families are going through.

We are amidst Hanukkah and counting down the days before Christmas. This is the time for love and family and kindness and peace.

“Peace must develop from inner peace.

Peace is not just mere absence of violence.

Peace is, I think, the manifestation of human compassion.”

– Dalai Lama XIV

…Borat.

He is welcome to spend Hanukkah with us. I love his sense of humor. His outrageous. His inappropriateness. And his–oh so sexy–attire. “Very nice!”

I will even learn how to make latkes. Hanukkah begins on December 8, yo!

Happy Hanukkah to all!

XO,
Pippi

Here is our favorite song of the Barenaked Ladies Barenaked for the Holidays album. (Oh,sheesh, did I just say album??)

On our annual trek to the local tree farm, we sought out the best–and biggest–tree we could find that could fit on top of my Subaru.

The kids spotted “the tree.” Fifteen feet tall. And nearly 15 feet wide.

Kinda like The Griswold family tree. Where the top is so tall, it bends into the ceiling. Where the branches bust through a window.

Bungeed down on the top of my car, we were set. With that warm fuzzy Christmas feeling tingling in our toes.

As we drove off, we kept watch on “the tree.” Bouncing along, flop, flop, flop…and then slide, slide, slide…and then…

QUICK! PULL OVER, PIPPI! THE TREE IS SLIPPING OFF!

Folks. Consider this foreshadowing.

Whew. After the tree was rebungeed and anchored down, I proceeded to drive 35 m.p.h. all the way home. On the freeway.

Precious cargo.

Fast-forward to the top-heavy tree screwed into the teeny tiny metal tree stand. Standing tall Leaning in our home.

Yeah that.

Now, picture “the tree” attached with rope to our stairs. Ah, Christmas memories.

If only “the tree” would stop drinking so much water. It’s getting heavier by the day.

Yeah. That’s “the tree” right behind “the kids.”

Yoga pants? What a misnomer. I mean, who really does YOGA in them?

I think they should be called Mom Pants. Ah, so stretchy. So comfy. So black.

And for the Holiday season? How about simply calling them: Pie Pants. Just in time for Thanksgiving, I have magically transformed my”yoga” pants into pie pants.

May you wear your pie pants with a smile on your face–and go for a second helping–and enjoy your family, friends, and food.

Happy Thanksgiving!

XO,

Pippi

P.S. And, oh by the way, if you actually wear yoga pants to DO yoga? I don’t want to hear about it.

‘Tis the season to be thankful. Thankful for dirty dishes? Thankful for eye wrinkles?

Dude! It’s all in the way you look at things. I am thankful for:

1. Dirty dishes. We always have plenty of food.
2. Sand in my car. My car reliably transports us to the beach.
3. Dog fur on my clothes. My puppy loves to cuddle.
4. Expensive grocery store bills. My kids have good appetites.
5. Long work hours. I have a good job.
6. An errand to Home Depot. It’s a date with my husband.
7. Being a chauffeur. My kids have interests.
8. A noisy house. My family is thriving.
9. Dirty soccer cleats. My kids are active.
10. Gloomy, rainy days. The grass is always green.
11. Piles of dirty laundry. I am needed.
12. Stepping on Legos with bare feet. My kids are creative.
13. My mortgage. My house is my home.
14. My children yelling. They are normal.
15. My slow-ass jogging skills. I am trying.
16. Eye wrinkles. Lots of smiling and laughing going on.
17. Exhaustion. My life is full.

Life. Health. Family. Love. Abundance. To be needed. I am thankful for it all.

Our elementary school sang This Land Is Your Land to honor and thank veterans.

Thank you veterans!

Pippi