Conversations With Piper: Poop and Parts

We've now reached the poop stage, I think.

I thought we could avoid it, because we are not the sort of people who find poop jokes funny most of the time, and we don't usually spend a lot of time talking about poop. I thought there would be a few questions about poop, maybe, but had no idea that this subject would occupy so much space in my daughter's brain. I think it comes out of a growing awareness of bodies (her own and others'), body functions, and discovering how many creatures share characteristics. Whatever the reason, we have been discussing poop and body parts a lot lately:

While petting the cat:

"Mommy, is this Mei-Mei's belly?"
"Yeah, but don't...just...just - pet her gently, okay? GENTLY."
"I'm pettin' Mei-Mei's belly."
"Yes, you are. GENTLY. Don't squeeze."
"Mommy?"
"Yes, Baby?
"Do you think there's poop in Mei-Mei's belly?"
"Well, yeah, I think there's probably some poop in there."
"Do you think she's going to poop in the litterbox?"
"Yes, that is where kitties are supposed to poop."
"Do you think there's poop in her belly?"
"Yes, I imagine so."
She paused and then looked at me. "Mommy?"
"Yes, Piper?"
"Is this your belly?"
"Yep."
"Do you think there's poop in your belly?"
"Probably."
"But do you think you're not going to poop in the litterbox?"
"No, kiddo, I don't think I am. In fact, I can say that I am definitely not going to poop in the litterbox."
"You're gonna poop on the potty."
"Yes, I am. Because that's where people poop, they poop in the potty. But kitties poop in a litterbox."
"Mommy?"
"Yes, Baby?"
"Do you think there's poop in Ellie's belly?"
"Yes, I think there poop in Ellie's belly. Don't whack Ellie on the head like that..."

Before we go to the playground:
"I'm going to go potty before we go, okay? You really should too."
"Are you going to poop?"
"No, I'm not going to poop."
"You should poop! Please try to poop!"
"Kiddo...oh, you know what? Never mind. Just find your shoes, okay?"

When I'm giving Ellie Benadryl:
"Is that Ellie's medicine?"
"Yep. It's for her belly."
"Does Ellie have scratches on her belly?"
"Yes, she does. That's why I'm giving her medicine."
"Did Ellie scratch her belly? And that's why she has to get medicine?"
"That's exactly right."
"Mommy? Do you think Ellie has poop in her belly that she was scratching?"
"Yeah, Kiddo, I think there's probably some poop in her belly..."

At least every other day, we have a conversation similar to this. We also talk about how other people do the same things we do; that is, if it's bath time at our house, she speculates that one of her classmates is probably also taking a bath at their house. I can see where her little mind is going with this, and how she's realizing the world is so much bigger than what she sees and touches every day. It's pretty damned cool, actually. 

15 Answers

...to questions my daughter has asked me in the past 24 hours:

1. "Well, yeah, I do think the Beatles probably ate a big bowl of ice cream when they got home from work. What flavors do you think they like?"

2. "No, I do not think Daddy wants you to stick that up his nose. In fact, I'm pretty sure he doesn't."

3. "No, you cannot hold Mei-Mei. She does not like it. Yeah, that? What you're doing right now? DON'T. Put the cat DOWN."

4. "Yes, there is poop in the cat boxes. Yeah, it's pretty smelly."

5. "Well, if you want to eat a block of dry ramen noodles for a snack, I suppose I don't see the harm in it."

6. "In that picture? Oh, that big pile is George's fan mail. The boxes are candy - jelly babies. Yep, because he likes candy."

7. "What's in his mouth? Uhh...candy. Yeah, it's, um, candy." [It was a cigar.]

8. "Yeah, I think the Beatles probably liked to drink water."

9. "I guess strawberries could smell like cabbage."

10. "No, I do not think Ellie wants to wear that necklace. Please stop whacking her with it."

11. "No, you cannot go outside and get the mail while naked. Just putting on shoes doesn't count."

12. "What's in Ringo's hand? Uhh...a drumstick. I think it's a drumstick." [It was a cigarette.]

13. "Sure, it can be time. I'll get it out for you. 8:30 a.m. can be time for Play-Doh if you want it to be."

14. "No, I will not give you any more whipped cream on your strawberry pancakes. Eat some strawberries, eat some pancake. But no more whipped cream."

15. "Yes, I think the Beatles liked to eat pie. Probably cake too."

"Look! Now I'm just like Ellie!"

Just like Ellie indeed..

Conversations With Piper: Food and Fun

"We don't play with ketchup in the shower, do we Mom? No we don't, that's not polite!"

"Please eat your peas, Piper."
"I don't want to."
"Please eat them anyway. Vegetables are good for you."
"I don't want to eat begetables that are good for me, I just want ice cream."

We were out digging in the yard, and I turned up a worm, which startled me.
"Eww! A worm!"
"Let me see, Mom." She inspected the wriggling thing. "I don't like it. He's kinda gross."
"Yeah, I guess worms are kind a gross."
"But what about candy worms? They're not gross, are they?"
"I suppose not."

On the phone with my mom:
"Hi Grandma, I'm eating hamburgers."
"That's great. Do you like hamburgers?"
"Yeah. I like hamburgers. With ketchup and cheese and cheese. Do you like hamburgers?"
"I love hamburgers."
"What about candy hamburgers? Do you like candy hamburgers?"
"Uhh, I don't think so..."

Outside, in the yard:
"Mom, a spider! I'm going to pet him."
"Don't pet the spider. Spiders are dangerous. You should just leave them alone."
"I'm gonna just pet him for pretend."
"No, I think you probably should not even pretend-pet a spider. Some of the spiders here are very poisonous, so you shouldn't mess with any of them, just to be on the safe side, okay?"
"Okay. But what about candy spiders?"
"Candy spiders?"
"Yeah. Candy spiders are not dangerous, right?"
"Only to your teeth. If it's a candy spider, pet away, my friend."

"Hey Mom, can we go do some fun stuff?"
"What kind of fun stuff?"
"Um...fun things."
"What did you have in mind? What fun things would you like to do today?"
"You know. Fun stuff and things. Fun things."
"Okay.  I'll get right on that, kiddo."

Fortunately, her top spot in the category of "fun things" is a trip to the grocery store. She asks to go the grocery store every single day. As excited as she gets, you'd think the place was Disneyland. I don't quite get it, because most of the time we are there she has to listen to me say put it down and stay in your seat or come back here or no, we are not getting the Spider-Man popsicles or stop touching things or please please please BE QUIET so I can figure out if the name-brand tuna is worth an extra thirty cents. But she does get a free cookie and usually a balloon, and they do have hot dogs there (even if they are still in the package and don't cost $8 apiece), so I guess it could be confused with Disneyland.

Conversations With Piper: Magic Words in the Neighborhood

Anything you put over your head (particularly those thing she sticks over her or your face, like baby blankets) is a "neighborhood." As in, "Mommy, you want to have the neighborhood? I'm going to put the neighborhood on." And she yanks a blanket off her bed and puts it over my face.

***
P: Magic words! Time to say the magic words!
R: What magic words? Hocus pocus!
P: Yeah, magic words! (lets out a really loud fart and giggles) Magic words!

***
At bedtime, as I'm walking out the door:

Me: Goodnight, kiddo. I love you.
P: Love you. (pause) I can make a really loud beep.
Me: (pauses in doorway) Oh, yeah?
P: Yeah.
(silence)
Me: Are you going to make the beep?
P: Yeah. (pause, then whispers) Beep. (whispers) Beep. (cracks up)

Sushi

"I like this sushi. It is very tasty."

That's My Girl

Piper dragged a huge bucket across the living room.

"I'm going to drink my pumpkin latte," she announced as she picked it up and carted into her room. "I be right back."

She wandered out a minute later, pretending to drink out of the bucket and smacking her lips. "Aaaah," she said. "That's good latte."

You betcha, kiddo.

Conversations With Piper: Ketchup

Our lunch today included generous portions of diced, fried potatoes, which Piper turned her nose up at. I was frustrated and resigned myself to her lunch consisting of 3 bites of tortilla and the half-glass of my orange soda she'd guzzled before I could stop her.

Then I got out the ketchup for something else I was cooking, and she perked right up.

"I would like some ketchup," she said, her eyes focused like little lazer beams on the red bottle.
"You can't just eat ketchup," I said, "you have to have it on something."
"I want ketchup on my fries," she said, hopping up and down.
"Fries?" I asked, having forgotten all about the cast-off potatoes.
She ran to the little table where she eats most of her meals and picked up the kid-size bowl of potatoes she had refused earlier. "On these potatoes," she said patiently. I squeezed a generous dollop of ketchup on one side of the bowl and she ran back to her table and started to chow down.
Pleased, I returned to the tomato sauce I was simmering.
"I want some more ketchup!" she called three minutes later.
"You need more ketchup already?" I was suspicious. I looked in her bowl, and sure enough, most of her ketchup was gone. I gave her some more, and she requested a third helping less than five minutes later.
"What are you doing over here?" I asked as I brought the bottle over. I gave her some more.
"I'm just eating my ketchup," she answered, dipping a chunk of potato into the puddle of red I'd just dropped into her bowl.
"You're eating just the ketchup?"
"Yeah." She licked the ketchup off the potato and dunked it again.
"Are you actually eating any potato?" I asked her.
"No," she said, licking the ketchup off the fork and potato again. "I'm just eating ketchup."

I guess I did ask.

Conversations With Piper: Halloween Costume

As so often happens when I am trying to get her to sleep, at naptime today she requested "You want Mommy snuggle you? Mommy snuggle in the bed? Piper scoot it over, Mommy snuggle in the bed." She scooted closer to the back of her crib-turned-daybed and I clambered onto the tiny mattress and curled myself around her. This is something I do most times when I'm putting her to sleep, and my husband finds it hilarious to see me scrunched into the tiny bed with her.

Today I was trying to get her to settle down, and I brought up a timely topic, hoping that if she got to talking she'd forget to keep herself awake by thrashing, kicking, and turning over and over in a pretty good imitation of the Human Washing Machine.

"What do you want to be for Halloween?" I asked, tucking her fuzzy purple blanket around her.
"I would like to be a bampire," she said.
"You want to be a vampire for Halloween?"
"Uhh...yes," she said. "I like to look at the Halloweens. I would like to be a bampire."
"A vampire, huh? You're sure that's the costume you want?"
"I want to be a lobster."
"You want to be a lobster and a vampire?"
"Um...yes."
"You want to be a lobster vampire?"
"I would like to go trick-or-treat."
"Okay, so you want to wear a lobster vampire costume to go trick-or-treating?"
"I would like to be a vampire."
"Just a vampire? Just the one thing? You want to dress up as a vampire for Halloween?"
"Yes. I would like dress up bampire."
"Okay, well, what would a vampire costume look like?"
"It looks like a snowman." She giggled. "Like a snowman." Then she started to talk about wanting to wear a witch's hat and go trick-or-treating.

So, if you'll excuse me, I have to go make a lobster-vampire-snowman costume with a witch's hat on top, so she can go trick-or-treating.

Conversations With Piper: Mini-Parenting

The other morning, Ryan spilled something while we were all sitting at the kitchen table having lunch. "Oh, shit," he said.
Piper looked at him. "Did Daddy say bad words? Yes he did. It was a bad word. I'm sorry, Daddy shouldn't say that," she said primly.
I totally cracked up.

One day I asked her do do something.
"No." She went back to playing.
"Piper, I'm not kidding. NOW."
She walked over to me and hugged me, then hung off my shoulder and put her face close to mine.
"I say no," she said, and grinned. "Do you know what that means, Mom? I just say no."
I was so flabbergasted I didn't even object when she went back to playing.

"You have to be careful," she said as I opened the oven to take the muffns out. "It's berry hot. Don't touch it."

"That's sharp," she said, pointing to the knives in the diswasher basket. "Very sharp. They all sharp. Be very careful, Mom."


Okay, kiddo. I'll be careful.

I Don't Like the Vampire

July 4th, 2009: My child apparently does not like fireworks.

Last year, she spent firework-time in the back seat of the car, strapped into her seat and playing with toys as we idled in a line of about 300 other cars full of people who had the same idea about which fireworks display to go to. We tried to get out of line and followed a silver Infiniti turning around in what we thought was a campground but which turned out to be someone's yard. A barefoot, mullet-headed, shirtless, hillbilly, grizzly beer-stinky-beard and all, came tumbling out of one of the 5 campers parked in a line and started screaming at us for driving on his lawn. I noticed he did not pester the much-older-than-us people in the far more expensive car, who used the distraction to hightail it out of there.

Anyway, this dude ran right up to our car and was thumping on the windshield and driver's-side window, all the while yelling "What the *bleep* do you think you're *bleeping* doing? You can't just drive on anybody's lawn! How would you like it if I came to your house and *bleeping* drove on yoru *bleeping* lawn?!", and so on and so on. Ryan was frantically trying to turn the car around and get the hell out of there. I noticed the guy had a lit cigarette in his hand, except I'm pretty sure it was hand-rolled and not tobacco. He was holding something behind his back, something he was going to an awful lot of trouble not to show us or any of the other cars still in line, and from the awkward bend of his wrist I felt sure it was a gun. Ryan rolled down the window and tried to apologize, all the while trying to burn rubber and get us the hell out of there, and I almost wet my pants because I thought for a few very long seconds this guy was going to stick his gun into the car and blow holes in us. Yeah, he seemed that pissed. I also thought it likely he would use the butt of his gun to break our windshield. Ryan managed to get us clear of the crazy-eyed grizzler, and we shakily drove home.

Later, when we could laugh about it, we thought perhaps someone should tell that guy that if you don't want your yard along a major traffic path to be mistaken for a campground, you should not put 6 campers and two tents in it.

This year, we stayed home all day and watched movies and ate snacks. When it got dark and the first booms sounded out, I pointed out a few of the bright blossoms of color to Piper. She was not impressed. When I asked her if it was pretty, she said no and buried her face in my neck. Ryan took her into the back yard, where one of the big displays from nearby was visible, and she started repeating "No, no, no no!" over and over and saying "If you don't like it? If you don't like it? I don't like it! No wannit! Ready go inside okay? Go inside okay please?" He brought her back inside, and she was clinging to him in a death-grip and huddling into his chest.

Once inside, we could still hear them going off, and after every BOOM! Piper would say:

"I don't like the bampire (vampire)."
BOOM!
"I don't like the vampire."
BOOM! BOOM! POP!
"I don't like the vampire."

She did this for over an hour, occasionally slipping in "I don't like the vampireworks."

Vampireworks?

Conversations With Piper: Comprehension

June 25th, 2009: She was trying to pull a sticker off a sheet of paper and it wouldn't come off. She called out to me: "Mom, come take a look at this! It's stuck I think." BAM, just like that. When did she get to be such a PERSON?

She calls me "Mom" more and more these days. "Ha! Dat's my mom!" she says, pointing at me. She puts in her lunch request: "Mom, asking please mac n' cheese? Asking PLEASE!" So far it's just here and there, but I hear it with increasing frequency. It will be weird to hear "Mom! Mom! MOM!" instead of "MOM-EEEE! MOMMY!"

She loves to help. She hands me dishes to put away and knows which drawers her own little bowls and cups belong in. When we're getting ready to go, I tell her to find her shoes and she brings them to me. After we've put them on her feet, she looks at mine and says "Mommy needs shoes too." She goes and gets my shoes and brings them to me. "There!" she says, satisfied when I put them on. "Okay, ready? Let's go to the store!" When we're wrestling around and the little stud I have in my nose comes loose, she straightens it for me. "There. Isn't that better?" she asks.

Better? Yeah. But also crazy.

I saved the best for last:

Piper (points at Ryan): Dat's Daddy!
Ryan: Yep.
Piper (points at me): An dat's Mommy!
Me: Yep.
Piper (points at self): An dat's the baby!
Me: Yes, you are.
Piper (pulls up shirt, slaps belly with glee): An dis baby's NAKED!

Conversations With Piper: Birthday Party

Piper: Happy Birthday!
My Mom: Did you have a birthday?
Piper: Yeah. Birthday!
My Mom: Did you have a birthday party?
Piper: Yeah. I did have a party.
My Mom: And was it fun?
Piper: No, it wasn't. It wasn't fun at all.
My Mom: Your birthday party wasn't fun? Why not?
Piper: I had some trouble.
My Mom: What kind of trouble?
Piper: Trouble trouble.

*Just for the record, she did have a party (I am still writing the thank-you notes), and she had a blast.

Conversations With Piper: Humor

Piper seems to love absurdity - she'll look at you with a twinkle in her eyes, say something that we both know is untrue, and then totally crack up. Like this:

Piper (While sitting in our living room): Ready to go home?
Me: You ARE home.
Piper: Bwahahahaha! Ready go home! Hahahaha!
(we repeat the joke for three more minutes)

Piper (pointing at her dad): Have milk? Daddies have milk? Have some Daddy milk?
Us: Daddies don't have milk!
Piper: HAHAHAHA!
(repeat, repeat, repeat)

Those are her two favorite jokes, right there. The knock-knock phase is gonna be F-U-N, I can tell already. Recently she's added a new one:

Piper (out of nowhere one day): Can I drive?
Me: You can't drive, you don't have a license.
Piper: (with a look like 'Holy Shit, Mom Made a Funny'): BWAHAHAHAA! Don't have a license! (looks at me again, eyes twinkling) Can I drive?
Me: No, you can't drive. You don't have a license.
Piper (laughing so hard she nearly falls over): You no have license! You can't drive! HAHAHAAA!

Not having a license is apparently very funny when you're two. Sixteen, not so much.