if you didn't know
intuitively, bedtime with steven is no picnic. when we got home tonight we told
him to go upstairs and brush his teeth. twenty minutes later i went up to brush
my teeth and found him playing in the bathroom. big surprise. not.
so i told him to start
brushing. he applied the toothpaste. and continued to dwaddle. i asked,
"what are you waiting for?! a written invitation?" "no.
christmas." ooooh. that was quick for one so small! mom get back in the
game with, "merry christmas. ho, ho, ho. brush your teeth or i break your
nose."
i called in
reinforcements. step parents are good back-up. he quickly got steven in bed and
lights out. almost smooth. scott soon joined me downstairs complaining, "i
think that kid manufactures his own flashlights. he must have fifty!" they
have an ongoing flashlight battle. scott takes away a flashlight. goes back a
few minutes later and confiscates another. and another. scott stashes the
flashlights. mommy finds them and gives them back to her beloved baby. for some
reason, it is difficult to get steven up for school. i can't understand it.
mommy's other baby has
his own battles with mean, old scott. teeny guy gets a stuffy nose. daddy goes
for the "nose bulb." for those who are not familiar with the
"nose bulb," it is a torture device developped by hitler to extract
mucous from infant noses. "nose bulbs" produce much screaming.
mommies learn quickly to avoid use of the "nose bulb." having a
higher tolerance for baby screams, daddy battles the sick, shreaking snot nose.
but today, daddy left the bulb within baby reach. little parker spends his days
performing highly scientific experiments. (remember yesterday's hyothesis:
mommies are too big to stuff in the drawer.) so parker starts to stick the bulb
in his nose as he has seen daddy do. but this is no ordinary baby. his quick
little baby brain decides it would be a better idea to stick the buld up
daddy's nose. BABY POWER! oh, yeah! get that big bad daddy with the bulb
torture!
earlier that same day:
mommy sleeps in. first
mistake. wakes up and starts down the stairs. peels a soggy cookie from the
carpet. enters the kitchen and puts the cookie in the trash can that parker
believes is his toy box (for those of you who didn't figure that one out from
yesterday's e-mail). mommy steps into the living room and sees the next soggy
cookie mess mashed into her favorite cashmere sweater. hard to believe mommy
was so naive that she believed her sweater was safe in the presence of mini
monsters. removes some cookie remains from the sweater and deposits it in a
delicate woolite bath. second attempt to enter living room. the tiny artist has
been busy this morning. today's mmasterpiece is a post modernist soggy cookie
and oyster cracker collage on cream carpet. various other items are added for
texture. but mommy is not a fan of parker's work because she spent all day
saturday viewing parker's work (and cleaning it up). mommy gives up and returns
to bed. daddy emerges from his couch coccoon and utters, "don't worry,
honey. i'll clean it up." right! i'm not holding my breath. daddy issues
the order for steven to clean up his room in hopes that he can coax mommy out
of bed. steven, of course, accomplishes this with the usual super steven speed.
an hour passes. steven
is lying on the floor with his feet on the bed busily straightening his game
boy. enter scott. "i told you to pick up your toys!" "but i'm
playing with them all!" mercury rising, "PUT THE TOYS AWAY!"
admittedly, this was not a clever line for an eight-year-old. but give him
credit! he has been using it for six years now.
rewind:
even earlier than when
mommy got first got up:
steven is once again
playing chessmaster 9000.
fast forward:
steven is talking to his
dad on mommy's cell phone since he is a deprived child and does not have his
own.
"i can only win at
chessmaster if i play against myself." i can't recount the next few
minutes' conversation because it involved a bunch of 'bishop, d2. queen, h6.'
etc. as steven rattled off all of the moves in the chess match. persistently
proud mommy whispers to daddy, "he may not be able to beat the monkey on
chessmaster, but he can rattle off all the moves in the match. see, he is a
genius!"
the conversation
illuminated me on why he is losing. he is not using pawns. he is using
"ponds." all that water is shorting out the computer. better get that
kid some pawns before he drowns.
steven pulled a loose
tooth while he played chessmaster. fast forward to dinner at the olive garden.
he pulls another loose tooth. the waitress comes by. standard line "can i
get you anything else?" steven replies, "do i get free dessert for
pulling my tooth during dinner." doesn't stop there: "my mommy told
me to say that." waitress laughs and returns to the kitchen. steven asks, "can
i see parker's toy?" "NO! and if you ever tell anyone i told you to
something again, i will take away all of YOUR toys!"
back up:
waiting approximately 25
minutes for our table in the olive garden lobby. some kid who looks to be about
5 is being held by his daddy. aaaawwww. how cute. except for that the kid
continuously punches daddy in the throat. daddy is apparently accustomed to
this behavior because he only winces from the pain and does not tell the kid to
stop! after watching for a few minutes, tactful katy decides to speak up.
"you don't have to worry about anyone kidnapping him, do ya?!" geez!
i don't exactly have
kidnappers lining up for me either. scott dropped me at the door to put our
name in with the hostess while he parked the car. i studied the dessert tray
while awaiting my family. steven walks up and i show him the tiramisu since i
know he loves it. to demonstrate proper adult behavior, i shove his face in it.
heee heee heee.
IT'S PLASTIC! hee hee
hee.
aaaaaaaaaaa! the tiny
one is calling me. 
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