A couple of weeks ago, I finally went on a daycare finding hunt. I called up the places I was interested in to make appointments to visit the facilities and, unlike in April when I did the same thing but didn't follow through, I actually went to visit them.
- A YMCA was the first place I visited. I didn't realize that it was basically almost walking distance to my house (a major pro). It seems nice, if a bit shabby. It was a bigger place, several classrooms accommodating kids of all ages. The person who showed me around was the secretary not the director, so although she kept asking if I had any questions, I couldn't think of any. She seemed a bit intimidating, so I really couldn't think of anything to ask. Also, since this was the first place I visited, I had no frame of reference.
- A few days later I made appointments at five different centers:
Two of them (one in Takoma and one on Georgia Ave.) I barely slowed down to check them out. The Takoma place was basically a house converted into a small daycare, but the whole property was in a heavily wooded area that it just seemed very damp and dark, without any sunlight. (Who knows it might have been nice inside, but I didn't bother to check.). The place on Georgia Ave. was in such a terrible location, on a very busy portion of Georgia in a very ugly building, that didn't seem to have a playground. I initially had suspicions about that place, because when I initially called up the places I rated them according to their phone manner. I rated this place poorly. The woman on the phone seemed irritated and tired. Unlike all other places which stated that I should come to visit to see their facilities and learn about their schedule, the woman just rattled off weekly payment rates and hours of operation.
One place I couldn't find. It seemed like it should've been a big place, i.e. easily spottable. I was actually initially most excited about this place because I got good recommendations about the company that runs it (Kinder Care), it seemed like it would be convenient for Andy to get to work (it was in Beltsville) and the woman on the phone seemed really nice and enthusiastic. But I couldn't find it. However, this ended up being fine because I decided that it's location, well the general vicinity of the location, would've been a bit too far out of our way.
The fourth place I went to visit, which was actually the first place I saw that day, was really small. (It was adjacent to a local elementary school, but I forget it's name. It was a school off Dennis Avenue.) The director, a really young woman, seemed really nice and knowledgeable and interested in her work, but the entire place was basically one big room, divided into different areas to accommodate different age ranges. The woman kept talking about "classrooms" for different age ranges, and I kept looking for different rooms. Then I realized that she was actually referring to this one big room (which was some 500 sq ft big) and the fact that the room was partitioned into three separate areas, which she called classrooms. And I kept thinking, "no way, this is way too chaotic and how do these kids get any downtime."
The fifth place was the daycare at the St. Paul Methodist Church on Grubb Road. This one was the winner. While I waited to talk to the director, I spent time with one of the teachers who was cleaning up her classroom. The teacher, a woman in her early twenties, was the poster child for a daycare/preschool teacher. She was so enthusiastic, bubbly and peppy that she would be rather annoying in any other setting than this preschool setting. She was perfect. I also liked the director. An older woman from Guyana, I believe. (At one point, I asked her where she was from and she said from South America, from xxx country, which is near Venezuela and Brazil. Since I thought she said Panama and was trying to figure out how is Panama in South America, I must have had a perplexed and blank look on my face. When she added Venezuela and Brazil to explain it better, it threw me even more for a loop trying to place Panama next to Brazil. But coming from a small country myself, I can relate to the woman, always need to explain and justify the location of your country of original and still dealing with people's blank stares and utter ignorance of what you're talking about.)
The director explained about the school and the fact that she places a lot of emphasis on early literacy (i.e. reading) sat well with me. Also the facilities seemed nice and spacious. I also liked the big grassy and sunny yard/playground. The yard actually had no shade, which I would prefer a bit, considering that Ivan's so fair that he's almost transclucent, but I'll take sunny over damp any day.
The daycare also has a slot for December, which is perfect. Ivan would start three days a week at first, and then once he turns two in February, he'd go full time (although I thought to myself, maybe we could keep him at three days even at that point.)
After I left, I realized that she never took me around to show me the classrooms, like other centers had done. Granted I didn't ask; I forgot. I may ask to go back and visit the classrooms with Andy. However, my lenghty chat with the bubbly teacher and the fact that Jade's Isabella goes to that daycare makes me feel confident enough that it's a good place.
The following week I also visited the daycare at the Silver Spring Presbyterian Church, which is also highly regarded. The coordinator for toddlers (Grizelda) showed me around. It was a bigger place. It had a similar feel to the Y. Well organized and run, but slightly run down (I think that's probably the case for all daycare centers.) I liked it and would've considered it but they may maybe have a slot in March; otherwise it would be next September. In other words, regardless what I thought of the center, it's not really an option.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Blueberries
Since early last week (or even maybe two weeks ago), Ivan's been on a blueberry kick. I find this funny considering that a few weeks prior to that he would not touch blueberries. There was no way I could get them near his mouth.
And how, for the last two weeks, that's all he eats. "Bbul, bul," he calls them. (The ball seems to be "bbul.") It's obviously hard to try to spell out, the sounds he makes.
In any case, Ivan's been living off the blueberries -- he literally eats them all day long, for every meal and snack. (Kind of the way he used to eat Cheerios. I'm sure he'd still eat Cheerios like that, but we haven't bought a new box and the have been drastically reduced the amount of Cheerios we've been giving him lately. He doesn't seem to miss them as much.) Even his poop is purlish-blue, just like the blueberries.
Since I'm afraid he'll choke on a big blueberry, I sometimes make him bit it in two. (I'm sure other members of my family don't do that.)
And as far as other food preferences are concerned, baby yo yo continues to be a big hit and some days he eats 2 to 3 yogurts a day.
He's also like "sandwiches." I toast and then cut up a slice of bread into two thinner pieces and then put some raspberry jam and cream cheese in it. He loves it.
These sandwiches are my little trick. Andy and my parents have other tricks, of course.
Ivan has also taken a liking to cookies. "Kek," as he calls them. It's the Spanish version of the petite beurre cookies. They're quite tasty and addictive. He often stands in front of the cupboard asking for "kek" (hm, I wonder who taught him that--my dad, of course). Last week, he threw a temper tantrum about kek. I was giving him a kek but he didn't want it. Finally, I figured out that he wanted me to put him on the countertop so he can get the kek himself. He didn't want me gettng it for him.
Then I taught him that he needs to guard his cookie from Mariposa (who immediately positions herself in the middle of any food-related action.) So, now he either turns his back to Mariposa if she's approaching him, or hides behind me, so that Mariposa can't get his cookie.
And how, for the last two weeks, that's all he eats. "Bbul, bul," he calls them. (The ball seems to be "bbul.") It's obviously hard to try to spell out, the sounds he makes.
In any case, Ivan's been living off the blueberries -- he literally eats them all day long, for every meal and snack. (Kind of the way he used to eat Cheerios. I'm sure he'd still eat Cheerios like that, but we haven't bought a new box and the have been drastically reduced the amount of Cheerios we've been giving him lately. He doesn't seem to miss them as much.) Even his poop is purlish-blue, just like the blueberries.
Since I'm afraid he'll choke on a big blueberry, I sometimes make him bit it in two. (I'm sure other members of my family don't do that.)
And as far as other food preferences are concerned, baby yo yo continues to be a big hit and some days he eats 2 to 3 yogurts a day.
He's also like "sandwiches." I toast and then cut up a slice of bread into two thinner pieces and then put some raspberry jam and cream cheese in it. He loves it.
These sandwiches are my little trick. Andy and my parents have other tricks, of course.
Ivan has also taken a liking to cookies. "Kek," as he calls them. It's the Spanish version of the petite beurre cookies. They're quite tasty and addictive. He often stands in front of the cupboard asking for "kek" (hm, I wonder who taught him that--my dad, of course). Last week, he threw a temper tantrum about kek. I was giving him a kek but he didn't want it. Finally, I figured out that he wanted me to put him on the countertop so he can get the kek himself. He didn't want me gettng it for him.
Then I taught him that he needs to guard his cookie from Mariposa (who immediately positions herself in the middle of any food-related action.) So, now he either turns his back to Mariposa if she's approaching him, or hides behind me, so that Mariposa can't get his cookie.
Ivan Grew
It's Tuesday night. I hadn't seen Ivan since Thursday morning until last night (Monday night). In the span of those few days, he seems to have significantly grown.
I was observing him today. Over the few days that I was gone, he seems to have grown into a big baby again. He looks babyish, not boyish. I guess now the next growth spurt will be in the boyish direction. That seems to be the way he grows.
Anyway, in his onesie today, he seemed huge. A big baby in one onesie. His legs have lengthened. He seems significantly larger than last Thursday morning. He almost looks a bit comical in the onesie.
He's also been eating a lot. He's been eating pretty well since the fourth of July week that he spent with Andy's parents. (The week prior to that, when I was home with him, he wouldn't eat anything.)
He's so pudgy and "squeeze-able" with his sturdy limbs and double chin.
I'm curious what the doctor will say at his 18 month appointment, which is a bit less than a month away. (Probably that he's still in the 25th percentile.)
I was observing him today. Over the few days that I was gone, he seems to have grown into a big baby again. He looks babyish, not boyish. I guess now the next growth spurt will be in the boyish direction. That seems to be the way he grows.
Anyway, in his onesie today, he seemed huge. A big baby in one onesie. His legs have lengthened. He seems significantly larger than last Thursday morning. He almost looks a bit comical in the onesie.
He's also been eating a lot. He's been eating pretty well since the fourth of July week that he spent with Andy's parents. (The week prior to that, when I was home with him, he wouldn't eat anything.)
He's so pudgy and "squeeze-able" with his sturdy limbs and double chin.
I'm curious what the doctor will say at his 18 month appointment, which is a bit less than a month away. (Probably that he's still in the 25th percentile.)
Monday, July 21, 2008
Clothing Preference
For the last few weeks after his bath time, Ivan has been going into his drawer pulling his shirts out to drag them across the room, take them with him, sit on them, etc.... I realized he always pulls the same shirts out. THen two days ago, after I put a onesie on him (his pjs), he pulled the two shirts out -- the dark-blue long-sleeved one with white stripes, and a red short-sleeved polo shirt with also white stripes -- and tried to put the blue one on.
I asked, "do you want me to put the shirt on you." "Ah," he said. So I put the shirt on him. Then he handed me the red shirt. So I put that one on him as well on top of the blue shirt and the onesie. He was so happy.
It cracked me up that he obviously has a clothing preference and likes some shirts more than the others. It's just funny to think that an 17-month-old cares has such preferences.
Before putting him down to bed, I took off the polo shirt, because I thought he'd be too hot and uncomfortable sleeping. But I left on him the long-sleeved blue shirt. He slept all night long.
Then, first thing in the morning, he found the red shirt and brought it over to me to put it on him.
Andy and I cracked up.
I asked, "do you want me to put the shirt on you." "Ah," he said. So I put the shirt on him. Then he handed me the red shirt. So I put that one on him as well on top of the blue shirt and the onesie. He was so happy.
It cracked me up that he obviously has a clothing preference and likes some shirts more than the others. It's just funny to think that an 17-month-old cares has such preferences.
Before putting him down to bed, I took off the polo shirt, because I thought he'd be too hot and uncomfortable sleeping. But I left on him the long-sleeved blue shirt. He slept all night long.
Then, first thing in the morning, he found the red shirt and brought it over to me to put it on him.
Andy and I cracked up.
Bottle v. Sippy Cup
We are making headway toward the sippy cup.
The last few days (really, this past week), Ivan has stop protesting the sippy cup when I laid him to bed for the night. Last weekend, he even went to sleep a two nights without any props. (Then he spent a few days at my parents'.) But now the last two nights, I put him to bed with the sippy cup without any protests.
I've even tried giving him the sippy cup in the morning when he wakes up for his early morning milk (about 5 a.m.). The few times I tried that, he took it, but then was fully awake after he drank the milk. The bottle nurses him back to sleep a bit more in the morning, it would seem, which is very important at 5 a.m.
However, I've decided that for now, if he wakes up during the night, which happens occasionally, to give him the bottle not the sippy cup, simply to cut down on crying and ensure everyone gets back to sleep fast.
On Wednesday, before he went to my parents' house for two days, even my dad (the biggest sippy cup offender and resister), witnessed Ivan nonchalantly taking a sippy cup in the car to drink his milk (my dad put the cup in the cup container, and Ivan reached for it). I was shocked myself, as that way the first time he had actually done that; however, I didn't share that observation with my dad.
I'm glad for this because on Tuesday, I was rather livid because while I was cleaning up Ivan's room and preparing him for bed, I realized that for an afternoon nap my dad not only gave him the bottle to drink from, but also put oj in it not milk. I was really upset because I think we were going backwards and creating more problematic habits. Drinking juice and water from a sippy cup has never been a problem, only milk. I feared my dad started introducing another, completely unnecessary habit of drinking juice from the bottle. But apparently, after I calmed down in my phone shit-fit, it appeared it was only a one time occurence. But that's why I was even more happy when the following day my dad saw Ivan drink milk from a sippy cup without any problems.
So sippy cup adoption is slowly underway.....
The last few days (really, this past week), Ivan has stop protesting the sippy cup when I laid him to bed for the night. Last weekend, he even went to sleep a two nights without any props. (Then he spent a few days at my parents'.) But now the last two nights, I put him to bed with the sippy cup without any protests.
I've even tried giving him the sippy cup in the morning when he wakes up for his early morning milk (about 5 a.m.). The few times I tried that, he took it, but then was fully awake after he drank the milk. The bottle nurses him back to sleep a bit more in the morning, it would seem, which is very important at 5 a.m.
However, I've decided that for now, if he wakes up during the night, which happens occasionally, to give him the bottle not the sippy cup, simply to cut down on crying and ensure everyone gets back to sleep fast.
On Wednesday, before he went to my parents' house for two days, even my dad (the biggest sippy cup offender and resister), witnessed Ivan nonchalantly taking a sippy cup in the car to drink his milk (my dad put the cup in the cup container, and Ivan reached for it). I was shocked myself, as that way the first time he had actually done that; however, I didn't share that observation with my dad.
I'm glad for this because on Tuesday, I was rather livid because while I was cleaning up Ivan's room and preparing him for bed, I realized that for an afternoon nap my dad not only gave him the bottle to drink from, but also put oj in it not milk. I was really upset because I think we were going backwards and creating more problematic habits. Drinking juice and water from a sippy cup has never been a problem, only milk. I feared my dad started introducing another, completely unnecessary habit of drinking juice from the bottle. But apparently, after I calmed down in my phone shit-fit, it appeared it was only a one time occurence. But that's why I was even more happy when the following day my dad saw Ivan drink milk from a sippy cup without any problems.
So sippy cup adoption is slowly underway.....
Brookside Gardens and Other Gardens
Since it was Sunday and we were up early, at the crack of dawn really, just like all other days, and since Mr. Meh wouldn't go down for his 7 am nap, we decided to go out, before the oppressive summer heat sets in. (And not to mention, trying to keep Mr. Meh out of sun, considering that the child is so pale, compared to me at least, that he's almost translucent. And yes, while I do put sunscreen on him, I'm never 100% sure I got all the stop and that it will last.)
We went to Brookside Gardens. The gardens were beautiful--magical and enchanting. We should go more often.
Mr. Meh loved running up and down the trails and touching flowers. Of course, he was enamoured of all the fountains, sticking his hands in, etc.
We stayed for about one hour before it got too hot and humid.
Then we went to Parkside Deli. It was 'licious as Andy tells Ivan.
We definitely need to go back. Too bad Mariposa can't come.
A few weeks back, we also swung by the National Arboretum, which is a bit futher away, but also beautiful. Same thing. Ivan loved running up and down the paths, and was fascinated with the fountains. He kept running back to them. Andy had to do his best to make sure Ivan doesn't fall in. And the bonus for the arboretum is that MP can come as well.
We should go back there in the fall for a longer excursion (longer than 1 hour), when it won't be so oppresively hot and humid.
We went to Brookside Gardens. The gardens were beautiful--magical and enchanting. We should go more often.
Mr. Meh loved running up and down the trails and touching flowers. Of course, he was enamoured of all the fountains, sticking his hands in, etc.
We stayed for about one hour before it got too hot and humid.
Then we went to Parkside Deli. It was 'licious as Andy tells Ivan.
We definitely need to go back. Too bad Mariposa can't come.
A few weeks back, we also swung by the National Arboretum, which is a bit futher away, but also beautiful. Same thing. Ivan loved running up and down the paths, and was fascinated with the fountains. He kept running back to them. Andy had to do his best to make sure Ivan doesn't fall in. And the bonus for the arboretum is that MP can come as well.
We should go back there in the fall for a longer excursion (longer than 1 hour), when it won't be so oppresively hot and humid.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Past weekend's activities - zoo, airport, etc....
Friday:
Andy was on vacation and I took a day off. We thought to make it special so we took Ivan to the zoo. It was something we had been planning and looking forward to for a while.
We got to the zoo around 10 a.m. The day was already hot and humid. We parked in the zoo parking lot, chaching, chaching went $15 for parking, but it was money really well spent.
First on our tour was the Barnyard Animals -- a small barn-like recreation at the zoo. First we saw three alpacas. Ivan was really curious about them. They were big, furry and they moved. He leaned forward in his stroller and was all eyes for them. Then Andy's phone rang. A work phone call, which he had to take. Since we was taking a long time and since Ivan seemed interested in alpaca, I called work as well to close one pending issue I was supposed to finish that day. Yes, we are such work losers and the sad thing is our jobs don't even matter that much.
Then we proceeded to see some cows and sheep (or maybe there were goats). We went into a barn to check out two baby sheep (or goats).
It cracked me up to see that all these domestic animals had names: some were foreign, like a donkey named Guiseppe, some were old fashioned, like the goat (or sheep) named Ethel, some were just goofy, like you'd expect for an animal.
And that's where it happened. While we were in the barn looking at two baby sheep/goats (for whom I expressed more interested and wanting-to-cuddle-them ohs and ahs than Ivan), the fleet of mommies with strollers marched in and basically ambushed us.
We couldn't get out. It was a frigthening scene. All these mommies and their stoller offspring. I can't really pinpoint what was so scary about them, but something was. Turns out both Andy and I had the same reaction. "Run for the cover. Escape from the mommy-stroller hell."
We proceeded with the zoo expedition. Ivan soon lost interest in the animals. He was more intrigued by the people at the zoo. And it really wasn't people, so much as hordes of stroller mommies or kids belonging to various camp groups. He wanted to walk and then push his stroller and then be carried. He then insisted on reaching into my bag to find -- guess what -- his yo, yo yogurt! (What's so addictive about them?)
After the yogurt snack, we went to the reptile house. Andy's idea. He was go-ho about it. Ivan couldn't care less. It was hard to see all the non-moving snakes and lizzards tucked away in their little picture displays. I had a hard time differentiating the animal from the surrounding foliage. I'm sure none of the animals registered with Ivan. They were not fuzzy, big and moving.
We should've turned around and returned to the car, but instead we continued hiking up hill to find the elephants and the pandas. We found the elephants, including the baby elephant, who's now really a teenager. The pandas were hidden. We finally spied one sleeping in a grotto. It would've been a comical site had we been able to see it from all the people piled up in front of us.
After leaving the zoo, we drove up to downtown Silver Spring for lunch at Lebanese Taaverna. Much to my surprise, Ivan was scarfing down our food: rice, french fries, falafal and even salad!
We then attemped to get ice cream at Coldstone Creamery, but after waiting for more than 20 mintues, during which Ivan started crying, and behind helped by two kids who seemed impossibly slow and incompetent, we basically got pissed off, left the ice creams and just left. (One previous time we went there, I recall us having equally slow and annoying experience. And my threshold for such situations is very, very low.)
Then we proceeded to the airport to pick up my dad. I had suggested that Ivan and Andy should go home so Ivan could nap, but I guess I didn't suggest loudly enough. As we were approaching Dulles, my dad called that they had landed and that he should be out soon. So we decided not to park but just circle around. Then we went up to the Marriot to wait at the parking lot. To make a long story short, we waited for two hours before leaving. They couldn't open the airplane cargo to get people's bags. So everyone was stuck in immigration. Ivan, who hadn't slept the whole day, by this time was very cranky. On the way home, we got stuck in the horrible rush hour traffic. Both Andy and I were suddenly grateful that our work commutes don't require us to get on the beltway. Ivan eventually fell asleep in the car for a few minutes but woke up as we got home.
The day ended on a positive note. He ate some dinner, got bathed and went do sleep relatively easily.
Andy was on vacation and I took a day off. We thought to make it special so we took Ivan to the zoo. It was something we had been planning and looking forward to for a while.
We got to the zoo around 10 a.m. The day was already hot and humid. We parked in the zoo parking lot, chaching, chaching went $15 for parking, but it was money really well spent.
First on our tour was the Barnyard Animals -- a small barn-like recreation at the zoo. First we saw three alpacas. Ivan was really curious about them. They were big, furry and they moved. He leaned forward in his stroller and was all eyes for them. Then Andy's phone rang. A work phone call, which he had to take. Since we was taking a long time and since Ivan seemed interested in alpaca, I called work as well to close one pending issue I was supposed to finish that day. Yes, we are such work losers and the sad thing is our jobs don't even matter that much.
Then we proceeded to see some cows and sheep (or maybe there were goats). We went into a barn to check out two baby sheep (or goats).
It cracked me up to see that all these domestic animals had names: some were foreign, like a donkey named Guiseppe, some were old fashioned, like the goat (or sheep) named Ethel, some were just goofy, like you'd expect for an animal.
And that's where it happened. While we were in the barn looking at two baby sheep/goats (for whom I expressed more interested and wanting-to-cuddle-them ohs and ahs than Ivan), the fleet of mommies with strollers marched in and basically ambushed us.
We couldn't get out. It was a frigthening scene. All these mommies and their stoller offspring. I can't really pinpoint what was so scary about them, but something was. Turns out both Andy and I had the same reaction. "Run for the cover. Escape from the mommy-stroller hell."
We proceeded with the zoo expedition. Ivan soon lost interest in the animals. He was more intrigued by the people at the zoo. And it really wasn't people, so much as hordes of stroller mommies or kids belonging to various camp groups. He wanted to walk and then push his stroller and then be carried. He then insisted on reaching into my bag to find -- guess what -- his yo, yo yogurt! (What's so addictive about them?)
After the yogurt snack, we went to the reptile house. Andy's idea. He was go-ho about it. Ivan couldn't care less. It was hard to see all the non-moving snakes and lizzards tucked away in their little picture displays. I had a hard time differentiating the animal from the surrounding foliage. I'm sure none of the animals registered with Ivan. They were not fuzzy, big and moving.
We should've turned around and returned to the car, but instead we continued hiking up hill to find the elephants and the pandas. We found the elephants, including the baby elephant, who's now really a teenager. The pandas were hidden. We finally spied one sleeping in a grotto. It would've been a comical site had we been able to see it from all the people piled up in front of us.
After leaving the zoo, we drove up to downtown Silver Spring for lunch at Lebanese Taaverna. Much to my surprise, Ivan was scarfing down our food: rice, french fries, falafal and even salad!
We then attemped to get ice cream at Coldstone Creamery, but after waiting for more than 20 mintues, during which Ivan started crying, and behind helped by two kids who seemed impossibly slow and incompetent, we basically got pissed off, left the ice creams and just left. (One previous time we went there, I recall us having equally slow and annoying experience. And my threshold for such situations is very, very low.)
Then we proceeded to the airport to pick up my dad. I had suggested that Ivan and Andy should go home so Ivan could nap, but I guess I didn't suggest loudly enough. As we were approaching Dulles, my dad called that they had landed and that he should be out soon. So we decided not to park but just circle around. Then we went up to the Marriot to wait at the parking lot. To make a long story short, we waited for two hours before leaving. They couldn't open the airplane cargo to get people's bags. So everyone was stuck in immigration. Ivan, who hadn't slept the whole day, by this time was very cranky. On the way home, we got stuck in the horrible rush hour traffic. Both Andy and I were suddenly grateful that our work commutes don't require us to get on the beltway. Ivan eventually fell asleep in the car for a few minutes but woke up as we got home.
The day ended on a positive note. He ate some dinner, got bathed and went do sleep relatively easily.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
The Sippy cup dilemma - cont'd
Last night I put Ivan to bed with just a sippy cup. He fell asleep within 20 minutes, after some not-so-serious whining, and slept until 4:00 a.m. when he got his morning bottle. (Note to myself: the morning bottle will be another battle in the sippy cup v. bottle war)
He drank barely any of his milk in the sippy cup, which means, or meant for that night at least, that he's capable of falling asleep without nursing his bottled milk.
This evening, however, is another story. Andy put him to bed with a bottle, which he promptly drank. But for some reason, since he went to bed at 7 a.m. until now, and it's after midnight, he keeps waking up and crying. The bottle, with water or milk, doesn't seem to be doing the trick. I'm not sure what the problem is. Something must be bothering him because he usually sleeps through the night.
He drank barely any of his milk in the sippy cup, which means, or meant for that night at least, that he's capable of falling asleep without nursing his bottled milk.
This evening, however, is another story. Andy put him to bed with a bottle, which he promptly drank. But for some reason, since he went to bed at 7 a.m. until now, and it's after midnight, he keeps waking up and crying. The bottle, with water or milk, doesn't seem to be doing the trick. I'm not sure what the problem is. Something must be bothering him because he usually sleeps through the night.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
The Imperfect Choice
Because we still haven't been able to break the milk-bottle-to-bed habit, I've tried a new technique a few days ago.
Why now? For the last few weeks I've tried halphazarldy to break the habit, but I really had not will to push through with it but instead caved in every time he'd start crying.
But last week, I realized that there are cracks in his bottle nipples. I guess he chewes, nibbles on the nipple, creating a whole. I threw out two nipples last week. We're down to one. (But even that one has a little crack in it I realized last night.)
Three nights ago, I smarted up: I gave him a bed time choice. An imperfect choice, but still a choice.
The same two clear Avent bottle (which he associates with milk, since that's all he drinks from them).
One bottle had the nipple on top but it contained water.
The other bottle contained milk but the top was the sippy cup spout.
He quickly picked up on my rouse. And he wasn't happy. But he had no choice. I left him fussying/crying in his room and left.
Which one was he going to choose? The milk or the nipple? Which one was more important to him. Once he fell asleep, I snuck a peak. It seemed that he had drunk some milk, but that bottle was kind of next to him. He was hugging the water bottle, the one with the nipple.
So that's what it came down to -- comfort. He wanted to suckle on the bottle. The beverage selection seemed secondary.
(Although he is a little milk-oholic. When he start fussing during the day, the arrival of the milk bottle soothes everything. He's totally addicted to it.)
I thought, "fine, let him have his bottle."
I tried the same experiment the following night, but he wouldn't go for it. Finally, I caved in and gave him a milk bottle with a nipple.
Yesterday
Last night Andy put him to bed. He was seemed quiet and ready to fall asleep, but I screwed it up because I went to check on him. Of course, he wasn't asleep, so he saw me and that was the end of that. I did notice however that he had milk in a sippy cup. It seemed as if he would've been fine, had I not interfered. But instead he wanted to get up and played.
We played a bit, then I put him back into the crib and I went to change. And then I was held hostage in my closet. Well, it was more like a self-imposed hostage situation. He didn't want to settle down, but kept standing up in his crib, opening the door of his room wide open, waiting for me. So I hid in the closet, in hope that he'd give up, quiet down and fall asleep. But of course, I didn't wait long enough. (I waited about 1/2 hour. I was smart enough to grab Style magazine I bought on a whim a few days earlier, hungry for some style, glamour and other eye candy I can't afford, indulge, nor have the will to follow rignth now). As I was trying to sneak back down the hallway, he saw me and the whole whinening started again. So I picked him up and we played some more. In the end, I caved in and gave him a bottle with milk. I first tried bottle with water, but he wouldn't take it. Milk, however, quiteted him down.
But then I started freaking out about the cracked nipple. "What if he chews it off and swallows it?" So I kept checking on him. Even thought I tried to be quite stealth about it, I'm no ninja and our house is old and creaky, so I kept startling him and waking him up over and over again. This of course, just produced more crying and I assume more bottle suckling (i.e. increasing the odds that he'd bite off the nipple). But it didn't happen. Luckily he fell asleep.
Today:
I don't know how Andy handled the milk situation during the day, but going to bed was relatively easy. Once he was done playing (but that's a different story because the last few days, he's pushed up his bed time and now won't be put down before 7:45-8 p.m., which is rather late for him), I have him the milk in a sippy cup top. He protested a bit, whined a while, but within 20 minutes he was asleep.
I don't want to declare it a victory in the bottle war, but definitely a success!
Why now? For the last few weeks I've tried halphazarldy to break the habit, but I really had not will to push through with it but instead caved in every time he'd start crying.
But last week, I realized that there are cracks in his bottle nipples. I guess he chewes, nibbles on the nipple, creating a whole. I threw out two nipples last week. We're down to one. (But even that one has a little crack in it I realized last night.)
Three nights ago, I smarted up: I gave him a bed time choice. An imperfect choice, but still a choice.
The same two clear Avent bottle (which he associates with milk, since that's all he drinks from them).
One bottle had the nipple on top but it contained water.
The other bottle contained milk but the top was the sippy cup spout.
He quickly picked up on my rouse. And he wasn't happy. But he had no choice. I left him fussying/crying in his room and left.
Which one was he going to choose? The milk or the nipple? Which one was more important to him. Once he fell asleep, I snuck a peak. It seemed that he had drunk some milk, but that bottle was kind of next to him. He was hugging the water bottle, the one with the nipple.
So that's what it came down to -- comfort. He wanted to suckle on the bottle. The beverage selection seemed secondary.
(Although he is a little milk-oholic. When he start fussing during the day, the arrival of the milk bottle soothes everything. He's totally addicted to it.)
I thought, "fine, let him have his bottle."
I tried the same experiment the following night, but he wouldn't go for it. Finally, I caved in and gave him a milk bottle with a nipple.
Yesterday
Last night Andy put him to bed. He was seemed quiet and ready to fall asleep, but I screwed it up because I went to check on him. Of course, he wasn't asleep, so he saw me and that was the end of that. I did notice however that he had milk in a sippy cup. It seemed as if he would've been fine, had I not interfered. But instead he wanted to get up and played.
We played a bit, then I put him back into the crib and I went to change. And then I was held hostage in my closet. Well, it was more like a self-imposed hostage situation. He didn't want to settle down, but kept standing up in his crib, opening the door of his room wide open, waiting for me. So I hid in the closet, in hope that he'd give up, quiet down and fall asleep. But of course, I didn't wait long enough. (I waited about 1/2 hour. I was smart enough to grab Style magazine I bought on a whim a few days earlier, hungry for some style, glamour and other eye candy I can't afford, indulge, nor have the will to follow rignth now). As I was trying to sneak back down the hallway, he saw me and the whole whinening started again. So I picked him up and we played some more. In the end, I caved in and gave him a bottle with milk. I first tried bottle with water, but he wouldn't take it. Milk, however, quiteted him down.
But then I started freaking out about the cracked nipple. "What if he chews it off and swallows it?" So I kept checking on him. Even thought I tried to be quite stealth about it, I'm no ninja and our house is old and creaky, so I kept startling him and waking him up over and over again. This of course, just produced more crying and I assume more bottle suckling (i.e. increasing the odds that he'd bite off the nipple). But it didn't happen. Luckily he fell asleep.
Today:
I don't know how Andy handled the milk situation during the day, but going to bed was relatively easy. Once he was done playing (but that's a different story because the last few days, he's pushed up his bed time and now won't be put down before 7:45-8 p.m., which is rather late for him), I have him the milk in a sippy cup top. He protested a bit, whined a while, but within 20 minutes he was asleep.
I don't want to declare it a victory in the bottle war, but definitely a success!
Pupak and other cute things
From all the incoherent babble that Ivan utter all day long, we finally figured out that he knows the word for belly button, in Croatian. It's "pupak." Two days ago while playing in his tub, he, totally unprompted, looked at us, pointed to his belly button, smiled and said "tatak" or something like that.
So I had to double check whether he really knows that's pupak. The following day while we were playing (well, he was playing with the vacuum cleaner; I was just observing), I said, "Ivan, gdje je pupak. Kazi me pupak," asking him to show me his belly button. He stopped, then pulled his shirt away from his skin and trying to put his hand in his shirt to reach pupak. And said "tatak" again. A bit later, I rechecked again. He repeated teh same process -- tried to put his hand down his shirt to reach pupak.
So cute.
Another cute thing he does is he goes to Mariposa and lowers his head so she can lick him. He knows that's how she shows affection. What can I say. So endearing!
So I had to double check whether he really knows that's pupak. The following day while we were playing (well, he was playing with the vacuum cleaner; I was just observing), I said, "Ivan, gdje je pupak. Kazi me pupak," asking him to show me his belly button. He stopped, then pulled his shirt away from his skin and trying to put his hand in his shirt to reach pupak. And said "tatak" again. A bit later, I rechecked again. He repeated teh same process -- tried to put his hand down his shirt to reach pupak.
So cute.
Another cute thing he does is he goes to Mariposa and lowers his head so she can lick him. He knows that's how she shows affection. What can I say. So endearing!
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