Keeping Track of Pippi

She wakes up, and immediately runs out the door, barefoot. I keep trying to teach her that: she needs to tell me where she's going, she probably should wear shoes (and socks and a sweater now that it's OCTOBER), and please oh please stay in my line of sight from the window. One day I called out the window. Usually she comes running, but on this day she didn't answer back. Am I talking about my family dog? No, I'm talking about my impetuous almost-five-year-old. So what did I do? I ran out barefoot, carrying my 2 month-old. I looked all the way down the street to the right and yelled her name. I looked to the left. One of the kids in the playground volunteered to look in the back of our building for her. She wasn't there. Where was she? Why wasn't she answering? Bardo was falling asleep, and I could tell that I was going to have to run around our block to find her. I didn't feel terribly worried in my heart, but my brain told me that I really should know where Pippi was playing all the time. After I put Bardo in his bed and put some shoes on, I reappeared in our yard. The neighbor across the street informed me that she was just down the street, out of sight, but perfectly safe. Perfectly safe in a mud puddle with a neighbor boy, that is. "Pippi, what are you doing?" I asked her. "Push-ups." Did I mention she was wearing white? "Did you hear me calling your name?" "I heard somebody calling my name..." "Was it fun in the mud puddle?" (I know, I know, a stupid question.) I couldn't get mad at her; she was so cute, and I kind of admire the ability to do push-ups in a mud puddle.

Today I found Pippi at our neighbor's house. Her friend was doing homework. She'd only been gone 15 minutes, but when I found her, she was working on a large bowl of rice and watching the Disney Channel. One of my fellow book club members told me that her grandfather used to wander the neighborhood asking for food. His mother found out about this and solved the problem by pinning a "Do Not Feed" sign to his shirt. Should I do this?

So how do I make home a more attractive place to be. Do I allow her to paint all day long? Maybe I should let her watch TV (we really don't watch TV until Daddy comes home).

Sometimes I'll convince her to do an activity, like get in her swimsuit and play in the bath tub while I clean the rest of the bathroom. But then she wants me to pretend to be Harry Potter while she gets to be Hermione. Sometimes she pretends to be Moaning Myrtle. Thank goodness she makes her big splashes in the bath tub and NOT in the toilet. Or I get to pretend to be Grandma Bigney, and she gets to be Brittany. Her imagination is constantly working. It's obvious to her that I'm completely inept at pretending (though, I have to say I'm better then the neighborhood kids) so she helps me along, whispering cues.