peskypippi.comBecause I have a lot to say…

Three. Well, two really, with one observer.

The other night, my husband changed the lightbulb in my son’s room and reached up, up, up to the high ceiling.

Down, down, down dropped the little knob that screws into the light fixture, to hold the glass in place. You know, the piece that looks like a nipple?

If it were any other room, it would have been a simple fix. But this was my eight-year-old son’s room. This was a Legos-all-over-the-floor room. The knob could be anywhere! We searched and searched and searched.

Did it camouflage itself as a Lego? Did it bounce up and into a toy bin? Did it roll under the bunk bed? It took us 15 minutes to find the stupid knob. And when I say us, I mean my husband and me. Because my son got distracted and built a space vehicle of some sort.

Turns out, the knob rolled into the Cat in the Hat hat. Of course, why didn’t I think of that?

I had a recent lunch date with my girlfriends.

You may think: ah, ladies who lunch. And you may picture tablecloths, heels, and wine glasses.

Yeah, no.

This was ladies who lunch after playing soccer. Instead, picture sweaty women, clad in shin guards, eating chicken teriyaki–hold the rice!

And the conversation was equally enticing: parenting challenges, penises (enough said), and really, really fat people (you know, the ones your kids single out way too loudly in public?)

We were laughing so hard, tears were streaming down our cheeks.

Lunch. Girlfriends. Giggles. I highly recommend all three. Shin guards optional.

My son decided he was done with his G.I. Joes, so he gave the lot to his sister. Who quickly discovered that G.I. Joes are way cooler than Barbie.

Fingers that grip! Elbows, knees, wrists, and ankles that bend! He can stand on his own!

My daughter quickly got to know the G.I. Joe gang. Step aside, Barbie, with your tiny, non-standable feet.

I’m not sure why our society is obsessed with removing unwanted hair.

I remember back in the seventh grade, desperately wanting to shave my legs. I begged my mother. She said I could, but only up to the knee. That was a lovely sight. Hairless calves. Hairy thighs.

Then in the ninth grade, I discovered tweezers. And proceeded to overpluck my eyebrows.

Shave this. Shave that. Tweeze this. Pluck that. Blast that unwanted hair!

It wasn’t until the past decade that I discovered waxing. Professional eyebrow waxing. Upper lip waxing.

Over the years, when it came to swimsuit season, I simply used the razor to tidy up. No problem.

But I kept hearing about the wonders of bikini waxes. Friends told me, “You should totally do it!” But I put it off. Until right before my trip to Hawaii, when I put “bikini wax” on my to do list. Yeah, I totally did it!

And here are four things I learned about a bikini wax:

1. It was embarrassing.
2. It hurt.
3. Wear your pretty bikini panties. Oops.
4. Be clear with what you want. Oops.

I wasn’t exactly clear with what I wanted. Maybe it was the language barrier?

Let me just say that it’s a good thing hair grows back. Because two words: Hitler’s moustache.

I just got back from Hawaii and saw some lovely coconuts!

Code. And not code.

Botanically speaking, a coconut is a fibrous, one-seeded drupe.

On my trip, I didn’t see any hairy, brown, and hard “drupes.” You know, the coconuts you can buy at Safeway on the mainland.

I learned that a fresh, young coconut is green. When you visit a roadside stand, you can drink from one. And sip the splendor that is coconut milk. And if you’re lucky, after you’ve had your fill, a Hawaiian native will take his machete and carve off the outer layer, to expose the juicy meat of the coconut for you to partake.

Ah, coconuts. Island style.

Clean up on aisle three!

Actually it was the middle lane of the freeway, as we were cruising en route to the tulip fields.

Then, I heard the five words you don’t really want to hear when you’re cruising en route to the tulip fields.

Mom. I. Just. Threw. Up.

Quick. Time to use my Mom instincts. Otherwise known as vomit ninja instincts. I think my eight-year-old son was a little shocked at my lightning-fast skills. Especially, as I only had one baby wipe left and no “just-in-case outfit” packed. I was kinda done hauling around back-up clothes for my kids. Oops.

Here’s what transpired, in like 4 seconds:

1. We pulled off at the next exit and came to a screeching stop. Well, whaddya know. The next exit happened to be a rest stop.
2. I rolled down the windows before the warm stench filled the air, causing everyone to gag.
3. I lept out of the car and undid my son’s seatbelt–carefully and swiftly–so as not to propel bits of whatnot everywhere.
4. I used the one baby wipe to scoop off the excess and lifted him out of the car to remove his t-shirt (and promptly threw it in the trash).
5. We went to the bathroom to wash off with cold water, paper towels, and no soap.
6. Bought him a Sprite at the vending machine.
7. And bam. We were back on the freeway, with a stopover at Walmart, where we bought him a new t-shirt and shorts, hand sanitizer, and wipes.

With his tummy feeling better, we made it to the tulip field and ended up having a lovely afternoon.

My son scored a new outfit. And I scored a new title, Vomit Ninja, as he took this photo of me (looking a little bit powerful, I must say).

Mission accomplished.

One recent Saturday morning, our two youngest children greeted us for some snuggling and giggling. This is one of my favorite weekend rituals.

Enjoy some of our silliness:

I’ve watched these over and over and can’t help but giggle and smile.

If you’re needing to look thin, like now, here’s how. Thin, in 6 easy steps:

1. Go outside. Make sure it’s sunny.
2. Find your shadow.
3. Take a picture of your shadow.
4. Bam. Your legs are instantly elongated. And your head is, uh, instantly tiny too.
5. Oh, and by the way, if you have your dog in tow, might as well go for a walk or jog. It can’t hurt!

When you make cookies as ugly as I do, you might as well call them what they look like: buffalo turds.

Just take your favorite oatmeal cookie recipe and healthify it. Swap the white flour with oat flour. Swap the sugar with pureed dates. Add in some coconut, dried cranberries, and flax seed. And presto, you’ve got yourself fiber-rich “buffalo turds.”

Kids! Come and get ‘em!

And you know what? They disappear about as quickly as the buffalo did a century ago. Fotunately, the American Bison are being reborn and the herds–and turds–are multiplying.

You can read more about these lovely creatures here:

http://earthjustice.org/features/ourwork/re-born-to-be-re-wild?gclid=CLLctreAuLYCFQpxQgodHUEAKQ

I highly recommend purchasing a disco ball. It is the must-have accessory for any family or family room.

It turns a Friday night into party Friday night.

Or Thursday. Or Tuesday, for that matter.

Turn on the disco ball, crank up the music, and you’re set. Just add attitude and dance moves.