Stevenisms: Katy commentary

okay. just looked at your web site. needs some work. you now have more pics of my georgeous children. so where are they?! and where are the rest of the stevenisms and parkerisms? what do you think i have these kids for? TO BRAG ABOUT! to live life vicariously. everytime someone says parker is cute b/c he flashes them a big smile, my ego grows. everytime i crack someone up regaling them with stories of steven, my ego grows. now get on there and post the stuff. and what happened to the pics of ben and nathan's band? your site is getting boring. and put up a picture of scooter. and write some stuff about him. he's even cuter than the baby. i've concluded that my second offspring is 'funny looking.' he's really cute and lovable and cuddly. but he is 'funny looking.' and he has a girly face. everyone always calls him a girl. adding insult to injury: i wanted a girl. i got a boy. no lace, patent leather mary janes, pink, barbie dolls, hats, bows, pink curtains, dress up.... yet people call my little boy a girl. i might as well put him in dresses. at this age, it won't harm him. good thing i was already living vicariously through steven. i think i would get real messed up trying to live through parker. when parker is older and other kids are teasing him, i will have steven to KICK THEIR A--! review the movie "crocodile dundee." a little guy is sitting on a log and a guy with a big automatic gun comes out of the woods and says, "you should have brought a gun instead of a beer." he replies, "naaaw! don't need a gun. i have a donk." gunman says, "what's a donk?" HUGE guy with one tooth and a squinty eye pops out of the woods and says, "i'm donk." and knocks out the gunman. if i feed steven properly, he will be six feet tall. if i get lucky, he may pick up an inch or two. that will make me at least as tall as the average guy, vicariously of course. mmmwwwaaaahahahahahahahahahaha!  

Stevenisms: Colinism

colin is the son of my friend kristine who is a single mom and doesn't have time to type up all of the cute things colin says. but he is full of them. so i have stolen two that i just can't get over. colin had a shot at the doctor's office which the nurse covered with a band aid. that night, his step-mom got him ready for his bath. when she went to take the bandaid off, colin became frantic and told her that if she removed the bandaid "all of my blood will come out." kristine was driving with colin one day and asked him how montessori school was that day. he worriedly told her that "the teacher wouldn't let me breathe." kristine suspected this was not a case of abuse, but thought she had better inquire anyway. colin explained, 'while we were standing in line the teacher told us not to move. she said, 'don't even breathe.' i tried to hold my breath. i nearly died!' with all of these perils in colins life, it is a miracle he is still with us!

Stevenism: Baby fear

I recently discovered that there is a group of individuals more feared than terrorists. someone unwelcome in the homes of the average American, striking fear into the heart of all just by entering an abode. Who is this fearsome one?

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THE BABY! Just threatening to bring the baby to someone's house could cause a coronary. The potential victim will blubber nonsensical excuses in wild-eyed panic. "Uh, my house isn't set up for kids." "We really don't have room for a baby to visit." "We don't have any baby stuff." what is it that babies do to cause this panic? Try handing the baby to someone. do they hold it like a grenade with the pin pulled? Even parents of older children are at a loss when handed a baby. Why? I mean, diaper science has come so far. Well, I suppose there are other worries. Let’s venture into the mind of someone who has just been handed a baby:

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! is it going to puke on me? how am i supposed to hold this thing? look at all that drool! oh my god! i have drool on my shirt now. what is that smell?! what if it's diaper leaks? what does it want? it just keeps squirming and making that noise. what if someone thinks i'm hurting it? what if i drop it? what if it cries? or worse yet screams? now it's smiling at me. what do i do? how do i keep it happy? if i talk to it, someone may see me. i'll look like an idiot! why is it staring at me like that? do i have something on my face? am i so hideous? oh, no! what was that noise? did it just fill it's pants? how long until it leaks out all over me? don't i need some sort of cloth on my shoulder? or a blanket on my lap? shouldn't i have some toys to distract it? now it's reaching for my food. what do i do? if i refuse, it's going to start crying. no! not my glasses! these were $300! they're bending! please let go of my glasses. no! not my hair! that hurts, you little.... do they all think i'm being mean? why did they hand me this kid? when is someone going to take it back? what did it just smear in my hair?

better yet, imagine the fear of someone faced with the treat of a baby entering their home:

i don't know if i can take all of that screaming and crying. how will i sleep with a baby screaming all night? i really need my sleep. and then after going sleepless all night, to spend the day chasing after the baby as he pull all of the breakables onto the floor, and eats the poisonous plants, and gets into the cleaners and medicines. he'll scare the pets. and what if the pets hurt him, or he hurts them? there are so many sharp corners here. how will we keep him from getting into things and getting hurt? my nerves just can't take this. he's going to stain the upholstery and carpet. how do i politely tell them to keep him away from the new couch?

and now, i poses one of these fearsome creatures. oh, the havoc i could wreak. the fear i can instill. the fun i can have watching unsuspecting victims squirm. i can just sit and watch the terror build while i pretend not to notice. mmwwaaahaahaahaaahaaaaaaa!  

Stevenisms: 1-20-03b

driving along. baby is babbling. steven tries to make sense of it. "parker said, "daddy" and "typhoon.""

proud mommy says, "how many eight-year-olds know what a typhoon is?" :o)

hmm. maybe he doesn't know the exact definition.
better check. "steven, what is a typhoon?"

"something that hits things."

uh. close. next try is closer:
"hits the earth?"

sort of.
gotta call mom with the latest stevenism. after i tell mom the first answer, steven is offended that i didn't give him proper credit. "i said it hits the earth! i know what a typhoon is!" i think i may be planting the seeds for what will later be known as steven's "issues." i don't think i'm setting him up for a very ordinary existence. maybe i should bake him some cookies. could i borrow 6 cups of sugar? 

Stevenisms: 1-20-03

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. 

Steven and Parkerisms: 1-18-03

everytime we turn on our computer now, a little dinosaur is walking back and forth on the menu bar at the bottom of the screen. he is a pain because he uses system resources and slows down anything else we try to do. he is also an ancestor of the roach. he is almost impossible to kill. while his program shows up on the menu bar, clicking on it doesn't bring up anything. even right clicking has no effect. i have been hitting control-alt-delete to bring up the task manager to kill him.

when i turned on the computer a few minutes ago, steven was sitting next to me rotting his brain on nickolodean cartoons. i had just opened the task manager when steven said, "right click on the dino." when i did, i whole menu came up with a variety of thing to do to the dino like 'capture' and other options i ignored in my rush to click on the one that said 'exit.' i asked steven, "did you put the dino on the computer?" he said, "no. i guess it just knows that i want to play with the dino." he thought a moment and then said, "how does it know?"

i explained that it was probably a program that loaded when he did the setup to put one of his games on the computer. kinda like killing santa claus, huh? dino is a cookie and not an extension of steven id, ego or little wizard. hope you all had psych in high school on that last line will make no sense. if you slept through psych class, let me know and i will send you an explanation. if you care.

steven is balancing yin yang right now. he is rotting his mind on nickolodean cartoons while assembling a toy from about ten thousand tiny pieces. there is a set of direction as thick as an unabridged dictionary. the directions are all pictorial becasue if they even attempted to use words the directions would rival an encyclopedia set. he apparently has more patience than his mother who would have resorted to using a hammer to pulvarize every piece into dust after the first 6 hours of assembly.

if you haven't seen me lately, then i will fill you in. my head is twice the size it used to be in order to accomodate my motherly pride. steven spends hours upon hours playing chessmaster 9000. so cerebral. scott's mother bought the game for him for christmas. i'm not sure how good he actually is at chess. as far as i know, he can only beat the monkey. he usually plays against himself. but maybe quantity of play time will eventually result in quality of play. on chessmaster 7000 he beat the monkey and the little girl.

i fell asleep on the couch last night and woke up to chess coach directions. "you can only move your own pieces." "the king can only move one space at a time." "checkmate." i think every phrase is emblazoned in my subconscious. unfortunately, knowing all of the chessmaster quotes do not improve my game. i am still as bad as when my ex-husband refused to even play me because it annoyed him that i was so bad. he bought a chess video game so that he didn't have to play me. my dream is for steven to become a better player than his father so that i can vicariously kick steve's $#%*! at chess. i bore the child, i claim the glory of his genius!

as for the spare child:

i was in parker's room watching him make messes for me to clean up. he pulled a teletubby out of the toy box and put him on the rocking chair. he then climbed into the chair. i handed him the teletubby. he screamed and threw it on the floor. i apparently misinterpreted babble. he wanted me to make the chair rock, not hand him the stupid toy. my deepest appologies, sir. i noticed a spot on his teddy bear which sits on one of the two chairs at his little table. as i tried to get the spot off of teddy, parker slid off of the rocking chair and spent the next 10 minutes trying to get into a sitting position on the other little chair. i pulled one of the drawers under the table partially out and positioned the teletubby so he was sitting at the table with parker and teddy. parker spent the next 2 seconds getting off of the chair and coming to see what was up with tubby. drawers are so fascinating. open the drawer. slam it closed on tubby. open the drawer. slam it closed on tubby. grab tubby by the head. pull. fall over backwards when tubby suddenly pops out of the drawer. open the drawer. try to stick tubby in. miss. slam the drawer. open the drawer. mommy sticks tubby in the drawer. slam the drawer. open the drawer. grab tubby and slam him on the floor. close the drawer. open the drawer. study the empty drawer. notice mommy. grab mommy by the head and try to put her in the drawer. on the second failed attempt, fall over backward. lesson learned: mommies are too heavy to shove in drawers. close the drawer. open the drawer. try to climb into the drawer. fall. lesson learned: it is too hard to put the baby in the drawer. open and close drawer a few more times. give up on the drawer because it doesn't make enough mess to keep mommy busy. go in search of toilet paper. failing to find any toilet paper, resort to inserting more drool into mommy's phone which no longer rings. work really hard at putting in drool to see how many more functions baby can destroy before mommy loses it. note to baby self: remember to give mommy wet, sloppy kisses until she gives up on spanking the baby for all of the havoc he wreaks.  

Stevenisms: 12-31-02

jenny sent steven a video game system. he has really enjoyed it. he was playing donkey-kong when it was time to leave for the meeting. david was getting upset trying to get steven to get in the truck. steven just continued to play the game. david finally left the room in huff and mom tried to reason with steven about the need to stop playing. he exclaimed, "i could use a little help here!!" mom asked, "what do you want me to do?" "turn off the tv!" just couldn't escape that game alone....

steven has been staying at mom's lately and he insists on sleeping with mom and david. i could go on and on about the problems of sleeping with steven, but the real surprise is that he can endure mom's snoring which shakes the foundation and david's sleep apnea and the machine he wears to treat the apnea. it has to be like sleeping in the middle of construction site.

the guest room across the hall is where steven is supposed to sleep. but his toys are spread all over the room and the bed is buried in legos. steven refers to the room in various ways. sometimes it is the 'lego room' sometimes 'the toy room'... mom and david were trying to explain that he is supposed to sleeping in that room. steven was astonished at their suggestion and blurted, "I am not a GUEST!"

we just moved to a bigger appartment so steven will have his own room. apparently sleeping with a silent baby is torture for steven. maybe i could make a recording of his noisy grandparents to ease his transition back into his mommy's home. or maybe i could practice sawing logs as loud as my mother. forget it. my throat would bleed if i ever attained that decibel level.

cassandra accompanied me to birmingham to go to target. we live in sensory deprevation and just seeing the variety of merchandise available outside of selma is a joyous event. i miss meijer!! steven asked to look at the toys. after our standard "what do you do if a stranger even comes near you... what do you scream... how do you fight..." i know that my bloop pressure and heart rate go through the roof at the thought of letting him out of my sight. but he is an expert at torturing those who tell him 'no.' this obstinance is part of the reason i allow him to go look at the toys. i have tried physically dragging him to do something he doesn't want to do (brush his teeth). if he didn't want to be kidnapped, i find it hard to believe that anyone could get him. he becomes a blurr of feet and those fingernails he won't let me trim.

cassandra was unfamiliar with our traditions and went to collect him from the toy isle. he had enlisted the help of the store manager to locate the toys he was seeking. he was looking at two lego toys when cassandra found him. he told her how he really wanted legos. thinking he could bring them to me to make his plea, she said, "put them in the cart." steven's big blue eyes were as big a saucers as he said, "(gasp) cassandra! you're going to get them for me?! that is sooo nice of you!!!!" stunned, cassandra replied, "only one." i think steven has an easier time with victims who haven't seen the 'toy room.' 

Steven and Parkerisms: 9-10-02

scott and steven were driving in the car and steven informed scott that he didn't "want to go to montgomery for a couple of weeks because (he) will miss out on all kinds of fun." scott asked what he would miss. "allkinds of stuff like going to grandma's and playing with the super soakers in the pool..."

scott took him to check out an after-school program. steven played with things and looked around. he kept ringing the bell he found on a desk. as they were leaving, someone said, "bye, steven. see you tomorrow." steven exclaimed, "you didn't say i was going here!" scott told him he would be and asked what he thought of the place. he said, "it's okay i guess. but that bell is COOL!"

we were running late and i told steven to pack his lunch. scott called me at work in the afternoon and told me that steven's school called out of concern that his lunch consisted solely of a large bag of starburst candy. i should have expected that.

steven was looking at a picture of a rabbit and told me (again) how he loves rabbits and wants one for a pet. i said (again) that he could when he is grown and has his own house (filthy little beasts). he asked (again) what i thought of having a snake. i said that it would be okay. he said that he wanted a cobra. i said that people don't generally keep cobras as pets since they are deadly. he said, "well i MEAN a TRAINED ONE!" so we will just get him a 'docile' cobra.

he decided he wanted to be a paleontologist when he grows up. he already knew he wanted to be a scientist. this was just a refinement to his plan. i find it to be a useless endeavor so i suggested becoming a veterinarian with paleontology as a hobby. i explained that he could have lots of pets if he were a vet. last night i mentioned college and he informed me that he has changed his mind about his career. he wants to be the crocodile hunter.

we were car shopping and steven's very firm criteria was to buy a car with leather seats. i took the boys to mcdonalds and threw scott to the wolves (let him haggle with the salespeople). steven was playing on the gym equipment and decided to join another family's table. they didn't exactly look well-to-do. i listened from a few feet away as he told them how he was shopping for a car with leather seats and how cars without leather seats make him sick. i took the opportunity to point out that a veterinary practice would help him reach his humble goals.

i was a little worried when scott was unexpectedly called away and had to take parker to the sitter. scott isn't the best at planning. my fears where not eleviated when i looked in the diaper bag later that night. he include: one dress shoe, half of a clean outfit. 3 pairs of socks (for a child who never wears socks or shoes), parts and pieces of various at least 10 different toys, one very dirty onesie.... no bottles, formula, etc.

gotta go put on makeup (mom would say "gild the lily"). parker is busily trying to find items to tear and bash and smash  

Stevenisms: 8-31-02

Scott got a bunch of free stuff from a computer nerd convention and gave steven a pen light, stress stick, a little fan, some pens, etc. the next morning, scott went into the boys' room to get parker up to feed him. when he opened the door, steven flashed him in the eyes with the pen light. steven has not seen the pen light since.

steven's dad called on my cell phone to talk to steven. i took the opportunity to remind steve that i couldn't enroll steven in the only decent school in selma until he paid some child support. when i turned the phone back over to steven, he said, "dad! what ever you do, don't send the money!!!! i like the school i'm at!"

on the way home tonight, we passed a train just sitting on the track. we had a great view of the engine. i pointed it out to steven. he said, "wow! cool! there's even a person in it. what is he waiting for?" i don't know. "maybe he's waiting for midnight." why would he be waiting for midnight? "i'm awake until midnight every night and i hear a train then."

so to make sure this scenario is clear for you, steven's cruel parents send him to bed hours before he falls asleep and a train somewhere sits on the tracks waiting for midnight to blow its whistle while steven lays sleepless in his bed.

i briefly held the title of 'greatest mom in the world' because i got steven the last piece of the spy kids II toy he was trying to put together. steven withdrew the title a few moments later when i refused to look at any more picture of toys he wanted me to buy him in a catalogue he found in my truck. 

Parkerisms: 8-7-02

at walmart this evening, parker repeatedly wriggled out of the child restraint on the shopping cart (but since this cart resides in the south, it is technically a "buggy"). fearing he would fall out of the cart, i moved him from the childseat to the basket and sat him amongst the groceries. (to perpetuate scott's theory on my 'warped stories': i read about a woman who had her son in a shopping cart when it overturned and he ended up with permanent brain damage and had to be sent to an institution because he wasn't even functional. therefore, i am skittish about kids in carts already.) **tangent courtesy of my tendency toward becoming a clone of my mother--have you heard her tell a story?**

ANYWAY! once he was in the basket part of the cart, he began playing with a jar of baby food. seemed harmless. so continue shopping. clever kid makes the jar more interesting by pitching it over the side of the cart onto the floor where it shatters into many non-geometric shards and splatters. fascinating! where's the other jar! grrrrr. mom got it first.

parker loudly expressed his disagreement when i put the other jars into the 'child seat' portion of the cart. surprisingly, he was unable to retrieve them. surprising because i'm beginning to think that those chubby little arms actually telescope to allow him to reach incredible distances. i have to maintain a 3 foot radius around him (not diameter) as a safety zone if he is in a fixed position (restrained). if the child is only 2 feet tall, how can his reach be 3 feet? i plan to measure his arms if i can ever keep him still long enough. i'm beginning to think that his sticky little fingers defy the laws of physics. babies must be a product of science fiction. i could put him the middle of an empty room and be staring right at him, yet he can cause a catastrophe before the light waves enter my pupils and are transmitted to my brain. so before i even see him move, he has dumped indelible liquid on the carpet or stuffed some revolting object in his mouth.

those with weak stomachs may not want to read this next bit:

he tried to swallow a roach! further demonstrating his super powers since we all know how fast roaches move....

i think he did it, not just because it was the grossest thing he could think of at the moment, but also because it would create the most havoc as the rest of the family shreiked and flailed about uncertain how to react to something so gruesome.

if babies weren't so cute we would store them with the biohazards  

Stevenisms: 3-15-02

steven finally acquired the ty godzilla, ghidorah, and mothra. (i don't want to talk about that.) steven tends to want to bring all of his toys with him everywhere he goes. his teacher finally solved the problem of steven taking toys to school by permanently confiscating his dinosaur one day. since the ty characters were imported from japan, are somewhat scarce, were expensive, and his mother swore "I'M NOT BUYING ANY MORE GODZILLA STUFF, SO STOP ASKING ME," steven decided that it would not be wise to take them to school with him. he set them on the stairs facing the door so they would be there to greet him when he got home from school. as scott came down the stairs, steven announced, "i'd better not take my godzilla guys to school because ms. gentry might take them away." scott voiced his agreement: "that's right. they're irreplaceable."

"what does 'irreplaceable' mean?" asked steven, the king of asking questions who often annoys his parental units by asking obvious questions or asking questions over and over and over and....

"well, steven, what does replaceable mean?" asked scott with his expert parenting techniques in play.

"get another one," answered steven proving he has a perfectly good brain brimming with vocabulary.

"so what does 'irreplaceable' mean?" asked scott.

"to listen for another one?"

Stevenisms: 2-26-02

...so steven is trying to figure out how he will get the money to get more godzilla toys. he says he will do chores. i tell him to go to school now. i hear him leave. a little while later, i hear him come back in. he yells, "mom! i started your car for you." uuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhh "thanks"

"can that count as a chore?"

"no."

"why not?"

"because it could be dangerous."

"why?"

"honey, you need to go to school right now. we'll talk about it later."

aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! next time he will be driving to the store because he ran out of milk (that kid drinks more milk....!) and wondering why i'm upset. thing is, he probably can drive better than i can. i really think he should get a job.  

Stevenisms: 2-20-02

steven's new fascination is with chess. his dad is amazing at chess. so i have always expected steven to be a chess wiz from age 3 on. his dad never worked with him on it until now. steven has played scott twice and lost both games. i expect this to change. we let him start playing chess master on the computer last weekend. he did the tutorials for a while. then he played against the computer and quickly lost. then he discovered he can set the game so he is controlling both sides. so he repeatedly beat the tar out of the black side. then he started allowing the black side to make some moves. he told me that he captured every black piece but the king, then allowed the king to take every white piece except the king and queen. then the queen wiped out the black king. i figure he is learning from all of this. i just don't think he is prepared to learn by losing. so in the meantime, he will continue beating helpless opponents. hopefully this will prepare him for opponents who exist. it is amazing how long he will stay on chessmaster. eventually, he will beat you all! i am terrible at chess. but if my offspring becomes a chessmaster, then i am vicariously a chessmaster. just like i have always hated being short, but when steven hits 6', i am vicariously going to be tall. steven only has to be brilliant, funny, tall, strong, and every other superlative. no pressure there!  

Parkerisms: 1-25-02

parker likes sucking his thumb so much that if his collar or blanket get in the way he screams. we always have to make sure he has access to his thumbs. when he is nursing or drinking his bottle, he tries to put his thumb in his mouth at the same time. this gets a little messy. he just wants it all at once. if he is particularly anxious, he sucks both thumbs at the same time. when he is neither tired nor anxious, he will suck his fingers. like me, he believes that if a little is good, more is better. so he has been known to suck all 8 fingers at one time. life would be supremely happy for parker if we could make milk come out of his thumbs. his bedtime routine is sucking his thumb, laying in his vibrating bouncy seat, watching his 'fishies' listening to brahm's lullaby, and either playing with his hair or gripping his covers or clothes. a crib seemed so necessary before he was born.... now it is just a very expensive changing table. some babies develop a bald spot and a flat spot on the back of their head from laying in the crib. parker has a bald flat spot, but it is off to the right side because he prefers his right thumb and turns his head to the right to suck that thumb.  

Stevenisms: 1-17-02

someone tried to steal his godzilla and rodan toys yesterday at his aftercare program. he has lost treasured toys before. he just doesn't think past his immediate desire to take them with him as he goes out the door. also, he still has the illusion of invincibility. he even tells me that he can run faster than cars so he won't get hit and that he would beat up anyone who tried to kidnap him. i didn't lose my superpowers until i was about 20. i think that even if he lost baby godzilla, he wouldn't learn. he will probably maintain his delusions for years to come. his dad hasn't lost the delusions yet.

i heard a report on the radio last night about premature babies having lower IQ than the average population. the test babies were under 3 pounds at birth. since parker was over 5 pounds, hopefully he'll be okay. steven was always so advanced, parker seems light years behind. i like that he is so 'baby-ish.' he is a lot of fun and so cute. he seems okay if i can keep myself from comparing him to steven. maybe he will be more laid back than steven. that would be pleasant. steven is so intense all of the time.

scott is taking steven to the circus saturday. there is some sort of pre-show tour an hour before the circus performance starts. i think steven will really enjoy it. i can't even imagine how many questions he will ask. he analyzes everything to death. one day in the car, we told him to talk to the baby because parker is always so excited to see steven. steven kept asking questions like, "i don't know what parker is saying. i don't know baby talk. what is he saying? if he doesn't know what i'm saying, why should i talk to him? what do i say to him? but, he doesn't know what that means." scott finally said, "QUIT ANALYZING IT AND DO WHAT YOU ARE TOLD!" talking to a baby is more emotional than logical. it is just forming brain connections based on stimulation rather than really organized logical learning. steven already saw a film about brain development, so i don't know how i could explain it much better than that. and i really don't feel like it while riding in the car. it is as if he has to understand everything 100% before he will accept it. maybe 150%. little sponge.

steven does seem to be eating more. of course i let him have just about anything he wants, so why wouldn't he eat more? he says, "can i have...?" and i say, "yes! yes! whatever! just eat!" last night he wanted pizza and i didn't get. does that make a terrible mother? he ate spaghetti, a gingerbread man, 2 bites of my supremely special cheesy cake, a package of gushers, strawberries, and milk. i need to go to the store. i prefer sending scott. i prefer having scott do everything for me, except eat. i like to do the eating. have i told you that he imitates the baby? if not, let me know and i will tell you about it.  

Stevenisms: 1-17-02

a co-worker has chickens that lays eggs in various colors. steven wanted to eat an egg that still looks like an egg so i told him that i would hard boil some eggs. i was picking out a couple to boil and he asked, "will this one work?" like some work and others just won't boil. for a long time there was an egg in the refrigerator that i wasn't allowed to cook because it was HIS egg. i had to keep explaining over and over that there was no chicken in the egg. i finally threw it away when he wasn't around.

so i called my mom to ask how to hard boil eggs. she said to put cold water in the pot and bring it to a boil, remove the pot from the heat and cover it with a lid and wait about 20 minutes. so i put he eggs in the pot and took it to the sink and put in the cold water. steven said, "can i eat it now?" no, i need to boil it. he asks for a gingerbread cookie and i said 'okay.' he starts climbing on the counter and i say, "get down! i will get the cookie." he says, "i need to watch the eggs!" mom is still on the phone and hears him. she says, "doesn't he know that a watched pot never boils?" it was kind of strange because i kind of got the feeling she actually believes that. steven kept asking if the eggs were done. i finally told him it would be at least 20 minutes. he said, "set the timer!" mom says, "no! not until after they boil! you have to wait until it boils!" so now i'm trying to think how to explain the process to him and how to tell her that i understand her instructions but it will pacify steven if i set the timer. i give up. i said "okay" to both of them and kept the timer away from the phone so mom wouldn't hear it.

so the watched pot finally boiled and i reset the timer. i tried to get steven to get off of the counter, but he climbed back up and insisted that there must be something he wanted to eat in those upper cupboards even though i put everything he can eat in the lower cupboards so he can get to it. so he is climbing on the counter and going through the cupboards. he get out my oreo ice cream cones. he has one in his hand and i start putting the package away and he starts screaming that he wants the "one on the end!" i keep saying that they are all the same but he insists that one on the end is bigger. unable to convince him otherwise, i finally let him have the "big" cone. (they ARE all the same! can i at least convince you of this?)

the timer dings and steven yells for me until i come and check on his eggs. the water wasn't cool yet and kept trying to tell him we had to wait. "but they cooled for a half hour already!" so i finally started adding cold water to cool the eggs. steven stayed under foot asking every few seconds if he could have one now. i finally said yes and he grabbed an egg and tried to take a bite, shell and all. i said, "you have to take the shell off." he said, "i knew that. i was joking around." okay, steven. so he asked for help taking the shell off. as i was helping him, he asked, "is it yummy yet?"

now scott is hassling me to get in the car because we're going to the store. i told him that i have written everything up to the present moment, so i was ready. he said he is keeping steven down stairs so he can't do any more funny stuff for me to write about.

ciao   

Stevenisms: 1-16-02

steven and i have an ongoing fight about him taking his toys to school. i am particularly adamant about him leaving expensive, irreplaceable toys home (like baby godzilla). this morning he was arguing that he needed to take baby godzilla with him. he said, "i hardly play with him because i can't get used to him since you won't let me take him anywhere." so i guess that steven and baby godzilla will never get familiar with each other. tragic.  

Stevenisms: 1-15-02

Last night, Steven told me that the earth is turning all of the time even though it doesn’t seem like it is moving. I said, “I think it just stopped.” He said, “no! it didn’t! it never stops!” Then he was telling me that I do something all the time. He said, “24 hours a day! And 24 hours a night!” Mom was surprised to hear that we are having 48 hour cycles now. Leave it to Steven to change the laws of the universe.

In his bath, he said that he wanted to show me something. Sometimes he says that just to get my attention and them spends 10 minutes thinking of something to show me. So I washed his hair while he was thinking. He told me that now I had ruined it. He asked if there was soap in the water. I said that there probably was. He said, “Well wash it out!” As soon as I figure out how to wash the soap out of the water, I will comply.

He dumped about 2 bottles of bath gel into the tub and called me in to show me all of the bubbles he made. He was so proud of making those bubbles that I let the fact he used up all of the bath gel sort of slide as he pointed “look at this big bubble! I just used the rest of that one and that one and part of that one (pointing to the now empty bottles)”

Parker fell asleep right as we got to the waffle house. I parked the truck at the window so we could watch him as we ate. One of the parker rules is “do not wake the baby” which he pronounces “WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” After about 15 minutes, Steven scolded me, “parker is probably out there crying this whole time! You need to go check on him.” So I did. And of course he was sleeping soundly. When we got back in the car, the sound of closing doors woke him. So Steven said, “see! I told you he was awake!” I just don’t know how we could raise this baby without Steven’s input.

He kept asking for an ‘ice mothra’ among other “needs.” (Imagine that: Steven asking for toys. That never happens, right?) I told him that I spent more money on toys for him than I could really afford and that he would have to wait until I had more money. He solemnly handed me his $5 bill to help me out.

I kept telling him to get up yesterday morning. I finally got frustrated and asked him what would get him out of bed because I was tired of fighting. He told me to go bid on an ice mothra and let him know when I won and then he would get out of bed to come look at it. Getting him up for school would get awfully expensive. So this morning I tried the tickle method.

He wanted a ‘to-go’ box for his unfinished waffle last night. He wouldn’t speak up and tell the waiter. Could it be that Steven is getting shy in his old age? So he sat there with his hand raised in the middle of waffle house expecting the waiter to call on him. Didn’t happen. After about 6 tries, he finally said, “Excuse me” and the waiter promptly got him a ‘to-go’ box.

When the waiter brought the bill, I put out the money along with a tip. As the waiter picked it up, I said, “I don’t need any change.” Steven looked at me in surprise and said, “Well I want the change!” I shushed him and told him that you give the waiter a tip when you pay. He asked why and I him told that it is for the service. He said he wanted a tip. I said, ‘what have you done for me?’ “Well, I got lots of pink checks at school for being good. And you didn’t even get me a toy every time!” Such a neglectful mother. Poor deprived child! I don’t know how he survives.

When ordering at the waffle house, Steven said he wanted “a waffle and twenty pieces of bacon.” The waiter laughed and said he was crazy. When Scott got home from class, he cooked a whole package of bacon for Steven since the waiter ‘adjusted’ Steven’s order to 2 strips of bacon. So Steven munched on bacon for breakfast and had a gingerbread man for ‘dessert.’ The gingerbread man was of course screaming, “run, run as fast as you can…” as Steven ate his limbs.

Stevenisms: 10-30-01

steven had the first of four appointments to fill his cavities today. he wanted the whole tooth to be silver instead of just part of the tooth. and he really wanted gold. he likes gold. he put himself to bed because his mouth hurt. october 30, 2001 steven gary fogle II put himself to bed without having to be threatened with extreme bodily harm. mark your calendar.

on the way home from the dentist he may have still been under the influence of pain medication because he said, "you aren't cool. you aren't even 70 yet." i said, "so, i will be cool when i'm seventy?" he said, "yes. but i will be cooler. i will be 100 when you are 70." "how are you going to get older than me?" "i'm going to eat healthy and grow faster and birthday sooner." i started to laugh and opened my mouth to explain the time continuum. thinking about the conversation to follow and my ability to effectively explain the linear nature of time, i simply said, "good plan." he said, "i'm going to keep it a secret." okay. doctors are working hard to stave off aging and steven is going to discover the secret of reaching 100 the fastest. he may do it. he told scott's cousin that he plays soccer faster than she does. he announced to a wedding party that he could dance the fastest. he insisted that he could mop fastest. i believe that he really has found the secret to speed the aging process. he certainly is aging me.

for the past week, he has been asking to take godzilla to school. the teacher has forbidden it. he keeps telling me that she says he can take it to school as long as she doesn't see it and he keeps it in his bag. he says that she allows it but if she sees it out during school, she will take it away because he is only allowed to get it out at the after-care program. i spoke to her tonight. she said that he has been hassling her a zillion times a day saying that his mom said that he could take godzilla to school as long as his teacher doesn't say 'no.' he tells her that i want him to take it to play with at afternoon safari. well, he isn't exactly lying. he is selling. he presenting the facts in just the right light to get his way. i said that i would talk to his teacher about it and he played a guilt trip on me. "you don't believe me! you think i'm lying!" oh, my goodness! my son thinks i'm calling him a liar! so, after talking to his teacher, we discover he is cleverly playing us both. so i tell him, "your teacher says that there is no reason for you to take toys to school. school is not the place for toys." "so, I can take it!?" no. no. no. wow. he must have sold so hard that he convinced himself too.

gotta go to bed now. rest my aging bones. hope i have the strength tomorrow to keep steven from twisting me into a pretzel. my 70 year old body just can't take it.  

Stevenisms: 10-28-01

steven had a rough weekend. he had isaac over friday night and they dumped my nail polish remover when they were supposed to be brushing their teeth. steven lied about it and got a spanking. the next day he told scott, "you spank too hard!" he has to fight back his laughter when i spank him because it doesn't hurt.

the next day, steven was acting up and scott brought him back in the house to have a 'chat' with him. scott loudly told him "your mother and i love you very much. why do you think we try so hard to straighten you out." i was upstairs trying not to laugh about scott yelling 'we love you' at steven. the tone and words just seemed a bit ironic.

i had a nightmare that i was trying to spank steven and my arms were so weak that all i could manage was a pat on the bottom. i had another nightmare that i was trying to pull a semi-trailer with my scooter (the motor bike, not the yorkshire terrier, or as steven calls him, yorkshire carrier). i was having to pull the fully loaded several ton trailer on the highway and hit a traffic jam. i was on a cell phone talking to my mom, screaming every time i nearly ran into the back of the car in front of me. i was performing this fete on the way to a job interview. if that is what i have to do to get my next job, i'm never leaving scana.

scott got me a bowl of icecream and was bringing it upstairs to me. i noticed he was swallowing something as he reached me. the night before, he was bringing me a glass of water. when he got to me, i had to wait for him to finish drinking before he handed over what was left. i had to laugh because it brought back memories of when steven was 2 or 3 and he was in the kitchen with mom. they were eating triscuits and i wanted some. i asked mom to give me some (i was in the living room doing something). she told steven to bring me some. he handed me a soggy corner of a triscuit. i said, "mom, i would like a little more than a bite!" she said, "what do you mean? I gave him a whole handful of crackers for you." if i had to count on scott and steven to bring me food, i would starve to death. maybe i could market some kind of diet plan where the gimic is that your child or husband serves you your food. i would of course include a disclaimer of liability: if you are about to starve to death, break the diet and go to the kitchen yourself. I take no responsibility for those who die of starvation subsisting on soggy cracker corners served by their husband and children.