Ivan's hair was getting rather long. Even though it pained me, his long golden bangs were falling in his eyes. It was time for a haircut.
On Wednesday, Andy stayed home with Ivan because they were both sick. (They actually went to the doctor's but that's a different post). He took him to a real barber to get his hair cut.
The barber did a good job. He was very fast and skilled with scissors (as one would expect) even though Andy had to keep Ivan on his lap and he was crying during the entire event.
The haircut is nice. Nice and short. A real boy haircut. His hair is also a bit darker now. It's still blond, but those golden locks are gone.
The haircut really made Ivan into a little boy. I'm missing my baby with longer-ish hair.
The haircut and Ivan's recent leap in talking and babbling have really turned him into a boy.
I was away from the house for about 24 hours to visit a friend. And when I returned home today (although I last saw Ivan yesterday afternoon), I felt that he made so much progress in talking and pronounciation it really shocked me.
Where did my baby go? Now I have a boy. :-)
Monday, March 30, 2009
Elementary Schools and Other Dilemmas
A playgroup mom's recent comment about the fact that nearby elementary schools are going through a rezoning process sent me on a web chase to see what's really at stake.
I think our neighborhood/street will remain fine and that we'll continue to belong to Sligo Creek Elementary. Not that we bought the house with elementary schools in mind, but since we're already here and since that's the school we belong to I'd feel duped and cheated if the county were to change parameters on us. But it doesn't look like they will.
This led me to examine another thing that's been on my mind lately. Sligo Creek Elementary has a French immersion program, which became a big beacon and draw for me once I became aware of it. So, tonight I perused the county's website to figure out, when does one need to register a child for elementary school and how does one get into this French Immersion program. I assumed that since we belong to this elementary school that we would automatically be eligible for the French program. Well, it turns out it's a lottery system. This obviously sucks. The county has two French immersion program elementary schools, three for Spanish, some for Chinese, and there are other schools which are geared for the gifted and talented, etc....
These school options of course set my brain cogs in overdrive. Which elementary school should Ivan attend? My original preference for the French Immersion program, or maybe Spanish? But now I'm thinking would it be better to send him to the program for the highly gifted, or the one that focuses on science and math.
It seems to me that his early toddler fascination with vacuum cleaners and wires (plugging them into "bups") are really early signs that he'll be scientifically and engineeringly inclined. (Everyone who meets him or to whom I tell of his wires and bups fascination seems to think so). So maybe it would be good to nurture his "scientific" mind from early on.
However, my personal education philosophy for a child--the one I actually had in place way before I ever even thought about having a child, the philosophy that's a by product of my educational and personal experiences--is to first focus the child on learning a language, so he could speak it like a native person. Math, science and all other studies could easily come later. A person can always catch up on his math and science skills when he's 15, 20 or 25, but that those ages it's already too late for a person to learn a new language with ease and fluency.
Also, I think that learning a language at an early age is really more like play than a school chore.
And why French over Spanish. That's personal as well. Eventually, he'd learn both French and Spanish, but French has to go first Why? Because I think that French is much more difficult to master (pronounciation and grammar wise) than Spanish. Because I've been learning French for ever and I'm still intimidated by it.
I've also been toying with an idea to hire a native French speaking student for an hour of "French play" with Ivan and myself. The idea would be to find someone who'd come to my house once a week to chat with me in French in Ivan's presence and play with us in French. That way, I'd brush up on French and Ivan would learn some.
I actually tried speaking French to him the other day. He looked at me baffled. He obviously couldn't understand what I was saying or why I was suddenly speaking things that were completely foreign to him.
Needless to say, I'm already freaking out about all these grandiose educational plans, and Ivan just barely turned two. He's only 25 months old.
I think our neighborhood/street will remain fine and that we'll continue to belong to Sligo Creek Elementary. Not that we bought the house with elementary schools in mind, but since we're already here and since that's the school we belong to I'd feel duped and cheated if the county were to change parameters on us. But it doesn't look like they will.
This led me to examine another thing that's been on my mind lately. Sligo Creek Elementary has a French immersion program, which became a big beacon and draw for me once I became aware of it. So, tonight I perused the county's website to figure out, when does one need to register a child for elementary school and how does one get into this French Immersion program. I assumed that since we belong to this elementary school that we would automatically be eligible for the French program. Well, it turns out it's a lottery system. This obviously sucks. The county has two French immersion program elementary schools, three for Spanish, some for Chinese, and there are other schools which are geared for the gifted and talented, etc....
These school options of course set my brain cogs in overdrive. Which elementary school should Ivan attend? My original preference for the French Immersion program, or maybe Spanish? But now I'm thinking would it be better to send him to the program for the highly gifted, or the one that focuses on science and math.
It seems to me that his early toddler fascination with vacuum cleaners and wires (plugging them into "bups") are really early signs that he'll be scientifically and engineeringly inclined. (Everyone who meets him or to whom I tell of his wires and bups fascination seems to think so). So maybe it would be good to nurture his "scientific" mind from early on.
However, my personal education philosophy for a child--the one I actually had in place way before I ever even thought about having a child, the philosophy that's a by product of my educational and personal experiences--is to first focus the child on learning a language, so he could speak it like a native person. Math, science and all other studies could easily come later. A person can always catch up on his math and science skills when he's 15, 20 or 25, but that those ages it's already too late for a person to learn a new language with ease and fluency.
Also, I think that learning a language at an early age is really more like play than a school chore.
And why French over Spanish. That's personal as well. Eventually, he'd learn both French and Spanish, but French has to go first Why? Because I think that French is much more difficult to master (pronounciation and grammar wise) than Spanish. Because I've been learning French for ever and I'm still intimidated by it.
I've also been toying with an idea to hire a native French speaking student for an hour of "French play" with Ivan and myself. The idea would be to find someone who'd come to my house once a week to chat with me in French in Ivan's presence and play with us in French. That way, I'd brush up on French and Ivan would learn some.
I actually tried speaking French to him the other day. He looked at me baffled. He obviously couldn't understand what I was saying or why I was suddenly speaking things that were completely foreign to him.
Needless to say, I'm already freaking out about all these grandiose educational plans, and Ivan just barely turned two. He's only 25 months old.
Monday, March 23, 2009
My Little Buddy
I spent Friday and Monday working from home. I really wanted to take those two days off but work was hectic so I ended up working from home.
I hate to do this because then I get stressed about work and I'm constantly checking work email, although I really can't do a lot of substantive work beyond forwarding emails and replying. I also get stressed about Ivan because I'm not paying any attention to him.
But despite this, it was nice to be home with him. I hadn't done it in a while. It's different when both Andy and I are home than when it's just me, Ivan and Mariposa.
I used to take a week of on average every quarter or so but I haven't done it since the fall.
Ivan has changed so much. He's a little almost-conversant person now. In addition to taking care of him, I can now talk to him, truly engage him and interact with him and play with him. And he really understands everything I say and ask him to do. And he really loves to help and do chores.
It's so much fun. I didn't expect it. I always wondered what do people do with babies and toddlers. I thought time spent with a child would be boring. This was of course before I had Ivan. I've loved taking care of him every minute. But now it's so much fun on a different level. I can see his personality emerge. His likes and dislikes and he stubborness and his sense of humor. He definitely has a sense of humor and likes to laugh. It's really funny. He cracks up this hysterical laugh out of nowhere. I can teach him things. He gets excited about everything. He wants to participate and interact. We read books together and he loves it. He loves to play with his Thomas the train set--well he actually likes to put the tracks together, there are lots of bups. We solve those wooden puzzles together. However, he still loves the vaccuum cleaner (as my mom said, his first love) and wires.
I've decided to take a week of in early May, as soon as work quiets down a bit, to spend time with him at home. I can't wait for it. We'll have so much fun. And by then I assume he'll be even more talkative and be even more engaging.
I can't wait.
I hate to do this because then I get stressed about work and I'm constantly checking work email, although I really can't do a lot of substantive work beyond forwarding emails and replying. I also get stressed about Ivan because I'm not paying any attention to him.
But despite this, it was nice to be home with him. I hadn't done it in a while. It's different when both Andy and I are home than when it's just me, Ivan and Mariposa.
I used to take a week of on average every quarter or so but I haven't done it since the fall.
Ivan has changed so much. He's a little almost-conversant person now. In addition to taking care of him, I can now talk to him, truly engage him and interact with him and play with him. And he really understands everything I say and ask him to do. And he really loves to help and do chores.
It's so much fun. I didn't expect it. I always wondered what do people do with babies and toddlers. I thought time spent with a child would be boring. This was of course before I had Ivan. I've loved taking care of him every minute. But now it's so much fun on a different level. I can see his personality emerge. His likes and dislikes and he stubborness and his sense of humor. He definitely has a sense of humor and likes to laugh. It's really funny. He cracks up this hysterical laugh out of nowhere. I can teach him things. He gets excited about everything. He wants to participate and interact. We read books together and he loves it. He loves to play with his Thomas the train set--well he actually likes to put the tracks together, there are lots of bups. We solve those wooden puzzles together. However, he still loves the vaccuum cleaner (as my mom said, his first love) and wires.
I've decided to take a week of in early May, as soon as work quiets down a bit, to spend time with him at home. I can't wait for it. We'll have so much fun. And by then I assume he'll be even more talkative and be even more engaging.
I can't wait.
'Scha' used properly
On Friday, Ivan heard me say "shit." Over the weekend, he practiced saying "scha" over and over again. And today, he used it properly. He went to get kefir out of the fridge, but he didn't grip it right. Kefir fell on the floor and Ivan said "scha."
I didn't react to it, but let it slide by.
Hopefully he'll forget it.
I didn't react to it, but let it slide by.
Hopefully he'll forget it.
Jump, jump; Hockey Pockey
Ivan's been jumping around for the last week. He must have learned it at daycare because none of us taught him.
He's really excited about it. He jumps around all day long both on the ground and on our bed. On the bed, he does a jump, jump, throw and throws himself on the bed. (Sometimes there are bubus) It's cute.
All this jumping prompted me to skip around him. To see whether he'd immitate me, which he likes to do a lot lately. But he didn't, he just watched me.
A few weeks ago, after Ms. Yvonne told us they Hockey Pockey in class, Andy and I put some Hockey Pockey during the dinner's Ivan Variety Show. We Hockey Pockeyed while he watched. I think we was confused, intrigued and just simply tickled pinked, but he didn't Hockey Pockey. Andy and I, however, had lots of fun.
I Hockey Pockeyed today again to see if he'd join in. He didn't. He just watched me, mesmerized.
He's really excited about it. He jumps around all day long both on the ground and on our bed. On the bed, he does a jump, jump, throw and throws himself on the bed. (Sometimes there are bubus) It's cute.
All this jumping prompted me to skip around him. To see whether he'd immitate me, which he likes to do a lot lately. But he didn't, he just watched me.
A few weeks ago, after Ms. Yvonne told us they Hockey Pockey in class, Andy and I put some Hockey Pockey during the dinner's Ivan Variety Show. We Hockey Pockeyed while he watched. I think we was confused, intrigued and just simply tickled pinked, but he didn't Hockey Pockey. Andy and I, however, had lots of fun.
I Hockey Pockeyed today again to see if he'd join in. He didn't. He just watched me, mesmerized.
Friday, March 20, 2009
"Scha" and other words
So, it finally happened today.
"Shit" I said quietly under my breath when I dropped a part of his milk bottle on the floor.
"Scha," a little soft voice promptly echoed back.
I didn't think he could hear me, but he was standing right next to me waiting for hs meme.
I've been preparing us for this moment ever since I got pregnant. Some people have a sailor's mouth. Andy has a "driver's mouth." I'm a tad better Even thought I've been on this clean up project for over two years now, I really hadn't made much progress Now we'll really have to be careful.
I was beginning to expect it any day now. Ivan has gotten so chatty in the last week or so. He's level of babbling and rate with which he's been picking up new words has really increased. He's also been repeating things after us more.
In the last few days, I've realized he knows to say and use "open," "top," "more," (his new favorite word), "book," "apple," "noz" etc. He just omits the last syllable so he ends up saying "op," "to" "mo", "bo," "app," "no."
He also attempts to pronounce "hummus."
He also knows the words "pumpkin" and "penguin." My mom realized he knows those two words and it shocked her.
We have a little knitted penguin ornament hanging off the fireplace mantle. And as far as pumpkins go, I don't think Ivan has seen a pumpkin since Halloween. There is a photo of him and Andy carving a pumpkin that's on our calendar. My mom and Ivan were looking through it when he started saying "punkin" She was floored. The same thing for the penguin. He started pointing to it "pinkin."
Two rather unusual words to learn.
But then again the first two hard words he learned were "ticic" for "pticica" last summer and "tute" for "turtle" back in the fall.
"Shit" I said quietly under my breath when I dropped a part of his milk bottle on the floor.
"Scha," a little soft voice promptly echoed back.
I didn't think he could hear me, but he was standing right next to me waiting for hs meme.
I've been preparing us for this moment ever since I got pregnant. Some people have a sailor's mouth. Andy has a "driver's mouth." I'm a tad better Even thought I've been on this clean up project for over two years now, I really hadn't made much progress Now we'll really have to be careful.
I was beginning to expect it any day now. Ivan has gotten so chatty in the last week or so. He's level of babbling and rate with which he's been picking up new words has really increased. He's also been repeating things after us more.
In the last few days, I've realized he knows to say and use "open," "top," "more," (his new favorite word), "book," "apple," "noz" etc. He just omits the last syllable so he ends up saying "op," "to" "mo", "bo," "app," "no."
He also attempts to pronounce "hummus."
He also knows the words "pumpkin" and "penguin." My mom realized he knows those two words and it shocked her.
We have a little knitted penguin ornament hanging off the fireplace mantle. And as far as pumpkins go, I don't think Ivan has seen a pumpkin since Halloween. There is a photo of him and Andy carving a pumpkin that's on our calendar. My mom and Ivan were looking through it when he started saying "punkin" She was floored. The same thing for the penguin. He started pointing to it "pinkin."
Two rather unusual words to learn.
But then again the first two hard words he learned were "ticic" for "pticica" last summer and "tute" for "turtle" back in the fall.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Crepes
I made crepes again this past weekend. They were really good. Ivan again refused to eat them. Even our best salesmanship efforts, "Look Ivan, it filled with jam" failed.
I was hurt, but there is nothing we can do.
I think it must be the texture. He seems not to like things that have a remotely smooth almost slimey texture to them, such as crepes, omelettes, pasta, etc.
And he says "ne" with such a sweet little voice, it's hard to resist him.
I was hurt, but there is nothing we can do.
I think it must be the texture. He seems not to like things that have a remotely smooth almost slimey texture to them, such as crepes, omelettes, pasta, etc.
And he says "ne" with such a sweet little voice, it's hard to resist him.
First Crush
On Saturday, our toddler birthday party circuit continued with Bella's party. It was lots of fun. All Ivan's playgroup friends were there, as well as some other toddlers, kids of Daria's work friends.
Among the playgroup friends, Janey came. We hadn't seen Janey since the Halloween party. She was cute then, but now she has gotten even cuter. She looks more like a little girl rather than a cute chubby blond baby. She was also all dressed up.
And I'm pretty sure that Ivan had a crush on her.
First I noticed that he noticed her and was kind of following her around. Janey, like Bella--they're best friends--is an extroverted, loud, take-charge little girl, very much unlike Ivan.
I mentioned it to Andy and he thought I had lost it.
But then, he said while he was watching a group of toddlers play, Janey decided to step back and sit on the couch. Ivan also went to sit on the couch next to her. Then he looked at her, and then he looked at himself and then at her again. Andy said he was cracking up.
Unfortunately, I didn't see any of this because I was in another room.
Among the playgroup friends, Janey came. We hadn't seen Janey since the Halloween party. She was cute then, but now she has gotten even cuter. She looks more like a little girl rather than a cute chubby blond baby. She was also all dressed up.
And I'm pretty sure that Ivan had a crush on her.
First I noticed that he noticed her and was kind of following her around. Janey, like Bella--they're best friends--is an extroverted, loud, take-charge little girl, very much unlike Ivan.
I mentioned it to Andy and he thought I had lost it.
But then, he said while he was watching a group of toddlers play, Janey decided to step back and sit on the couch. Ivan also went to sit on the couch next to her. Then he looked at her, and then he looked at himself and then at her again. Andy said he was cracking up.
Unfortunately, I didn't see any of this because I was in another room.
Nina, Nina
Ivan's babbling is getting more and more complex each day. His babble vocabulary has expanded beyond single syllable babble into more complex syllable formations. So last week, when I thought I heard him say "nina" through his babble I just socked it up to him practicing new consontant and vowel combinations.
Until Saturday, when both Andy and I heard him distinctively say "Nina, Nina," while he was playing with his chuchu train.
Later that day, he actually told me "no, Nina," for something that he didn't want to do.
I was floored. It sounded too cute. But frankly, I didn't expect him to know my name or actually call me by it. Although as some quick post-incident consultation with other toddler parents confirmed, this name calling is rather common at this age, and yes, it takes all parents by surprise.
Then we tested him. Andy said who's Nina, and Ivan pointed to me. I said, who's Ivan and he pointed to himself, to "Ee ee," as he calls himself. Then I asked, who's Andy. He was stumped. He hadn't make the Andy-Dadda connection yet.
This was two days ago. Andy said while there were home today, Ee ee started calling him "Any" as well. (Apparently, Nina is easier to say than Andy.)
Until Saturday, when both Andy and I heard him distinctively say "Nina, Nina," while he was playing with his chuchu train.
Later that day, he actually told me "no, Nina," for something that he didn't want to do.
I was floored. It sounded too cute. But frankly, I didn't expect him to know my name or actually call me by it. Although as some quick post-incident consultation with other toddler parents confirmed, this name calling is rather common at this age, and yes, it takes all parents by surprise.
Then we tested him. Andy said who's Nina, and Ivan pointed to me. I said, who's Ivan and he pointed to himself, to "Ee ee," as he calls himself. Then I asked, who's Andy. He was stumped. He hadn't make the Andy-Dadda connection yet.
This was two days ago. Andy said while there were home today, Ee ee started calling him "Any" as well. (Apparently, Nina is easier to say than Andy.)
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Bubus and other stories
One day in January, Ivan was standing in front of the fireplace, kicking his feet at Mariposa. She didn't like that and snapped at him before walking away.
They both got scolded.
Then some ten minutes later, after both moved on to different activities, Ivan returned to the fireplace, kicked his foot in the air, pointed to his foot and said "bubu." And that was when I realized that he's retelling us the incident that just happened.
He might had doing that earlier as well and we just never picked up on it. But since that incident, every time he falls or something happens to him he retells us what happened. If he fell, he goes back to the place where he fell and says "bubu."
It's really cool. I imagine it's a milestone for him. We can really start conversing with him.
He's also started to make associations between things. For example, the other day we were flipping through one of his Bright Baby books and came across a picture of a train. He then quickly scurried away to look through his toys. I was puzzled because he usually never just vanishes like that. But he went to find his wooden train. He held it again the photo of the train and started pointing to both "chuchu." I melted.
Then earlier this evening, he picked out a lemon out of our fruit basket. (It was a very old dry lemon, on the verge of being thrown out). Instead of bringing it to us to eat it, like he does with oranges or bananas, he climbed on the couch next to the lime tree. There is a little lime growing one of of the branches. He held the lemon to the lime and said "llll." The "l" sound is hard for him to say but we got the point. I don't know whether we (Andy, I or my parents) actually compared the lemon to the lime for him or whether he just figured it out himself.
Then before bed time, while we were romping around on the bed in the spare bedroom he started pointing to the shadows on the wall and saying "mamma" "ee, ee". He calls himself "ee, ee." I moved my head so that the shadow would move. But he still pointed to the shadow and said "mamma." I was floored. I really didn't expect him to be able to do that.
They both got scolded.
Then some ten minutes later, after both moved on to different activities, Ivan returned to the fireplace, kicked his foot in the air, pointed to his foot and said "bubu." And that was when I realized that he's retelling us the incident that just happened.
He might had doing that earlier as well and we just never picked up on it. But since that incident, every time he falls or something happens to him he retells us what happened. If he fell, he goes back to the place where he fell and says "bubu."
It's really cool. I imagine it's a milestone for him. We can really start conversing with him.
He's also started to make associations between things. For example, the other day we were flipping through one of his Bright Baby books and came across a picture of a train. He then quickly scurried away to look through his toys. I was puzzled because he usually never just vanishes like that. But he went to find his wooden train. He held it again the photo of the train and started pointing to both "chuchu." I melted.
Then earlier this evening, he picked out a lemon out of our fruit basket. (It was a very old dry lemon, on the verge of being thrown out). Instead of bringing it to us to eat it, like he does with oranges or bananas, he climbed on the couch next to the lime tree. There is a little lime growing one of of the branches. He held the lemon to the lime and said "llll." The "l" sound is hard for him to say but we got the point. I don't know whether we (Andy, I or my parents) actually compared the lemon to the lime for him or whether he just figured it out himself.
Then before bed time, while we were romping around on the bed in the spare bedroom he started pointing to the shadows on the wall and saying "mamma" "ee, ee". He calls himself "ee, ee." I moved my head so that the shadow would move. But he still pointed to the shadow and said "mamma." I was floored. I really didn't expect him to be able to do that.
Sweet Tooth
Mr. Meh has a serious sweet tooth.
It's not just that he always manages to spy Andy or myself out every time we try surreptitiously to sneak in a few bites of chocolate or a cookies in the kitchen hiding behind the wall and the cabinet door.
It's not just that he knows where cookies and chocolate live in the house and demands to be hoisted up to them so he can take a piece.
This sweet tooth has extended to the toddler birthday parties we've attended in the last few months:
December, Sammy's party:
Already aware of his sweet tooth, I stayed way in the back during the happy birthday cake singing. Despite hiding from the cake, a piece floated my way. So Ivan and I shared it. Every time we eat cake, I try to eat two-thirds of it, not just because of my serious sweet tooth, but also out of my motherly concern to shield him away from the rotten influence of sweets.
After everyone had cleared from the dining room and the cake, and had moved on to other activities, Ivan moved in while I looked away. I caught him trying to reach for cake crumbs and the plates with leftover eaten cake.
December, Daycare holiday party:
Food and deserts were laid out on low table in the hallway. No other kids really cared about the tables, except for Ivan. He circled and circled the plates of brownies and other sweets, trying to reach for every single piece. Finally, he and I shared a brownie. I ate the last bit while he wasn't looking. Except then he looked at the plate, at me and back at the plate, exclaimed all concerned and in disbelief "nem?," and slid out of my lap to run to get more cake. Since I couldn't deter him from it, we shared another tiny piece.
When Andy arrived, he fixed himself a plate with Ivan's help. (Well, Ivan was cruising around the brownie table trying to poke his fingers in). There was food and a brownie. Ivan proceeded to feed Andy. He fed him a forkfull of mac and cheese, and then fed himself a forkfull of brownie.
Christmas time
I don't even recall where and how many sweets he ate.
January, Emir's party:
After being cranky, whiny and completely inconsolable for the first two hours of the party, where we had to retreat to Emir's room to chill out, we reemerged back at the party just in time for happy birthday and cake cutting. Kristina made two cakes--an Elmo and a Cookie monster cake. Ivan and I share a piece. I ate the last bit. When he realized I ate the cake, he took the plate and the fork out of my hands, slid off my lap, marched across the room and extended his arms to hand the plate to Kristina who was still doling out the cake. I tried to intervene, but it did no good. He gave up on the plate and instead decided climb on a chair to reach for the actual cake. I gave in and let him have a small piece. After he finished the piece, he went off to play (finally) but he clung on to the plate for another 15 minutes before he walked it over to the trash and threw it in.
February, his party:
I think that every grandparent--all four of them--fed him a piece of cake.
March, Seger's party:
After the kids were done running around in the gym, they all sat down to eat---pizza and cupcakes. Ivan didn't touch the pizza but when the cupcakes arrived, he dug in. Every mom, including Seger's moms, were cracking up, watching him eat the cupcake.
At all these parties, other kids didn't seem to notice or care for the sweets as much as he does. This concerns me a bit. Is he going to have a serious sweet tooth? What if becomes an overweight, under-active kid? What if all his baby (and adult) teeth rot out by the age of 4 because of the sweets he eats and his refusal to let us brush teeth (not to mention the entire bottle saga, which still continues)?
I have only a short period while I can control his eating habits and create healthy habits before he's exposed to external influences. I feel like I'm already loosing the battle. And considering that my parents, who see him regularly, are really willing enablers of sweets eating ("oh, he's a baby. He should be able to eat a bit of sweets and everything else!") really upsets me.
Every time I raise it with them, we end up fighting over it.
Andy's parents are equally bad with giving him cookies but since he doesn't see often, I let it slide. But it's really amazing how remembers where they keep cookies in the house even though he rarely goes there.
It's not just that he always manages to spy Andy or myself out every time we try surreptitiously to sneak in a few bites of chocolate or a cookies in the kitchen hiding behind the wall and the cabinet door.
It's not just that he knows where cookies and chocolate live in the house and demands to be hoisted up to them so he can take a piece.
This sweet tooth has extended to the toddler birthday parties we've attended in the last few months:
December, Sammy's party:
Already aware of his sweet tooth, I stayed way in the back during the happy birthday cake singing. Despite hiding from the cake, a piece floated my way. So Ivan and I shared it. Every time we eat cake, I try to eat two-thirds of it, not just because of my serious sweet tooth, but also out of my motherly concern to shield him away from the rotten influence of sweets.
After everyone had cleared from the dining room and the cake, and had moved on to other activities, Ivan moved in while I looked away. I caught him trying to reach for cake crumbs and the plates with leftover eaten cake.
December, Daycare holiday party:
Food and deserts were laid out on low table in the hallway. No other kids really cared about the tables, except for Ivan. He circled and circled the plates of brownies and other sweets, trying to reach for every single piece. Finally, he and I shared a brownie. I ate the last bit while he wasn't looking. Except then he looked at the plate, at me and back at the plate, exclaimed all concerned and in disbelief "nem?," and slid out of my lap to run to get more cake. Since I couldn't deter him from it, we shared another tiny piece.
When Andy arrived, he fixed himself a plate with Ivan's help. (Well, Ivan was cruising around the brownie table trying to poke his fingers in). There was food and a brownie. Ivan proceeded to feed Andy. He fed him a forkfull of mac and cheese, and then fed himself a forkfull of brownie.
Christmas time
I don't even recall where and how many sweets he ate.
January, Emir's party:
After being cranky, whiny and completely inconsolable for the first two hours of the party, where we had to retreat to Emir's room to chill out, we reemerged back at the party just in time for happy birthday and cake cutting. Kristina made two cakes--an Elmo and a Cookie monster cake. Ivan and I share a piece. I ate the last bit. When he realized I ate the cake, he took the plate and the fork out of my hands, slid off my lap, marched across the room and extended his arms to hand the plate to Kristina who was still doling out the cake. I tried to intervene, but it did no good. He gave up on the plate and instead decided climb on a chair to reach for the actual cake. I gave in and let him have a small piece. After he finished the piece, he went off to play (finally) but he clung on to the plate for another 15 minutes before he walked it over to the trash and threw it in.
February, his party:
I think that every grandparent--all four of them--fed him a piece of cake.
March, Seger's party:
After the kids were done running around in the gym, they all sat down to eat---pizza and cupcakes. Ivan didn't touch the pizza but when the cupcakes arrived, he dug in. Every mom, including Seger's moms, were cracking up, watching him eat the cupcake.
At all these parties, other kids didn't seem to notice or care for the sweets as much as he does. This concerns me a bit. Is he going to have a serious sweet tooth? What if becomes an overweight, under-active kid? What if all his baby (and adult) teeth rot out by the age of 4 because of the sweets he eats and his refusal to let us brush teeth (not to mention the entire bottle saga, which still continues)?
I have only a short period while I can control his eating habits and create healthy habits before he's exposed to external influences. I feel like I'm already loosing the battle. And considering that my parents, who see him regularly, are really willing enablers of sweets eating ("oh, he's a baby. He should be able to eat a bit of sweets and everything else!") really upsets me.
Every time I raise it with them, we end up fighting over it.
Andy's parents are equally bad with giving him cookies but since he doesn't see often, I let it slide. But it's really amazing how remembers where they keep cookies in the house even though he rarely goes there.
Friday, March 6, 2009
Short & Chubby (2nd Birthday Check-Up), and Needles Stories
At his regular 2 year health check-up of February 11, Ivan measured at 33 inches high, 27lbs 3.6 oz.
These measurements put him between 25-50% for weight and about 25% for height, or as I affectionately said, he's now short and chubby.
As part of this round of check up, he had to be tested for TB and had his blood drawn to check for lead. "Just a finger prick," our pediatrician said.
TB test was conducted at the pediatrician's office. Luckily, Andy was there with me, so he held him steady while the nurse pricked his forearm. The poor baby cried so hard.
Since this doctor's visit was about a month ago, my memory is already a bit fuzzy, but I think that when we arrived at the doctor's office he didn't cry. However, as soon as we were ushered into an examination room--which is the same room every time--he started bawling.
When we returned a few days later, on a Saturday morning to have the TB injection checked out, he started crying as soon as we entered in the waiting room. Luckily, it was very early in the morning so no one was there to listen to his wailing. And even better, we didn't have to go into an examination room but a nurse came out to check his arm and that was it.
However, for the lead test, we had to go to a Quest lab, where we proceeded to go to that same Saturday as soon as we were done at the doctor's. The place, which is very close to Trader Joe's, was packed. There must have been at least thirty people waiting, many were sitting on the floor as all the chairs were taken. So we literaly walked in, turned around and walked out.
A few days later, on a Friday, my dad and I returned to the lab. He waited in the car, while Ivan and I went it. As soon as we walked through the door, Ivan started crying. He was inconsolable for good 15 minutes. I was shocked. How did he know what we were there to do? He had absolutely no reference point for it. But the waiting room was empty--there were only a couple of people there--so I thought I'd weather it out and proceed with the plan. He was crying to so hard that I was getting embarrased.
The three and a half people who were in the waiting room started to give me those furtive, irritated looks as if "get that baby out of here." So I crossed out his name from the waiting list and decided to leave. But then he stopped crying. So I hung around. He calmed down and started playing--climbing on a row of chairs to look out of window. Had this playtime just not been preceeded by a crying fit, I would've been mortified at his behavior. It was the type of toddler behavior that always made me cringe, "can't that mother control that child and make him behave." But this time, I didn't care. He was free to roam around the waiting room.
Once we got to the admission booth, I realized that I didn't have his insurance card with me. Apparently, I had given it to Andy to keep, in case something were to happen, Andy would be the one who'd need to pick Ivan and take care of him, so that rational makes perfect sense. Except, I had no recollection of us deciding on that. So I flipped out where his insurance card was. By this time, Ivan was all back to his quiet and inquisitive self because at counter at the admissions booth was low, just at his heigh level, with a computer the nurse was using to check us in. That was the first time he saw the back of a PC. Wires and "bups" galore. He was mesmerized. But unfortunately, we had to abort our lead mission because of the missing insurance card.
My parents and I returned the following Saturday. My dad sat in the car, while my mom and I went it. Ivan wasn't too thrilled to be back at that place and kept heading to the door. He was leaving! But since the waiting room was reasonably empty, we decided to stay. After some whining and crying, I helped Ivan remember how he was playing on those chairs the previous time. My mother was mortified--he was touching too many (gross) things. She was also mortified that the lab wasn't a kids lab, but just a regular lab. She thought it was unsavory and inappropriate for little kids to be mixing in with all these other sick adults, etc... I did agree with her. The same thought crossed my mind when I saw the place the first time.
This time, we successfully checked in.
"We're here for the lead test," I said to the admissions nurse. "It's just a prick to the finger, my pediatrician said."
She looked at me seriously.
"We don't do finger pricks here. We draw blood from his vein," she replied.
I think that blood drained from my face at that moment. That meant, I was going to have to hold Ivan steady in my lap while they do this. This is usually a job reserved for Andy. He can hold him down better. And I don't like to play the bad cop. I like to be the parent he runs to after a bubu, not the one who gives him a bubu.
So I sat him in my lap and held him tight and steady in my arms. I have no clue how the nurse managed to find a vein on his forearm. There were no veins to be seen.
Then she pricked him. I couldn't watch, I just held on tighter. He was bawling and writhing all over the place. I'm sure my mother was mortified out in the waiting room. I'm sure other people were thinking to themselves, "get that child out of here." The nurse got quite a vial out of him (like the size of my pinky.)
Even before the nurse managed to get the needle out of his arm, he slithered out of my lap and determinedly started walking out toward grandma.
And good to know, he doesn't have TB and his lead levels are fine.
These measurements put him between 25-50% for weight and about 25% for height, or as I affectionately said, he's now short and chubby.
As part of this round of check up, he had to be tested for TB and had his blood drawn to check for lead. "Just a finger prick," our pediatrician said.
TB test was conducted at the pediatrician's office. Luckily, Andy was there with me, so he held him steady while the nurse pricked his forearm. The poor baby cried so hard.
Since this doctor's visit was about a month ago, my memory is already a bit fuzzy, but I think that when we arrived at the doctor's office he didn't cry. However, as soon as we were ushered into an examination room--which is the same room every time--he started bawling.
When we returned a few days later, on a Saturday morning to have the TB injection checked out, he started crying as soon as we entered in the waiting room. Luckily, it was very early in the morning so no one was there to listen to his wailing. And even better, we didn't have to go into an examination room but a nurse came out to check his arm and that was it.
However, for the lead test, we had to go to a Quest lab, where we proceeded to go to that same Saturday as soon as we were done at the doctor's. The place, which is very close to Trader Joe's, was packed. There must have been at least thirty people waiting, many were sitting on the floor as all the chairs were taken. So we literaly walked in, turned around and walked out.
A few days later, on a Friday, my dad and I returned to the lab. He waited in the car, while Ivan and I went it. As soon as we walked through the door, Ivan started crying. He was inconsolable for good 15 minutes. I was shocked. How did he know what we were there to do? He had absolutely no reference point for it. But the waiting room was empty--there were only a couple of people there--so I thought I'd weather it out and proceed with the plan. He was crying to so hard that I was getting embarrased.
The three and a half people who were in the waiting room started to give me those furtive, irritated looks as if "get that baby out of here." So I crossed out his name from the waiting list and decided to leave. But then he stopped crying. So I hung around. He calmed down and started playing--climbing on a row of chairs to look out of window. Had this playtime just not been preceeded by a crying fit, I would've been mortified at his behavior. It was the type of toddler behavior that always made me cringe, "can't that mother control that child and make him behave." But this time, I didn't care. He was free to roam around the waiting room.
Once we got to the admission booth, I realized that I didn't have his insurance card with me. Apparently, I had given it to Andy to keep, in case something were to happen, Andy would be the one who'd need to pick Ivan and take care of him, so that rational makes perfect sense. Except, I had no recollection of us deciding on that. So I flipped out where his insurance card was. By this time, Ivan was all back to his quiet and inquisitive self because at counter at the admissions booth was low, just at his heigh level, with a computer the nurse was using to check us in. That was the first time he saw the back of a PC. Wires and "bups" galore. He was mesmerized. But unfortunately, we had to abort our lead mission because of the missing insurance card.
My parents and I returned the following Saturday. My dad sat in the car, while my mom and I went it. Ivan wasn't too thrilled to be back at that place and kept heading to the door. He was leaving! But since the waiting room was reasonably empty, we decided to stay. After some whining and crying, I helped Ivan remember how he was playing on those chairs the previous time. My mother was mortified--he was touching too many (gross) things. She was also mortified that the lab wasn't a kids lab, but just a regular lab. She thought it was unsavory and inappropriate for little kids to be mixing in with all these other sick adults, etc... I did agree with her. The same thought crossed my mind when I saw the place the first time.
This time, we successfully checked in.
"We're here for the lead test," I said to the admissions nurse. "It's just a prick to the finger, my pediatrician said."
She looked at me seriously.
"We don't do finger pricks here. We draw blood from his vein," she replied.
I think that blood drained from my face at that moment. That meant, I was going to have to hold Ivan steady in my lap while they do this. This is usually a job reserved for Andy. He can hold him down better. And I don't like to play the bad cop. I like to be the parent he runs to after a bubu, not the one who gives him a bubu.
So I sat him in my lap and held him tight and steady in my arms. I have no clue how the nurse managed to find a vein on his forearm. There were no veins to be seen.
Then she pricked him. I couldn't watch, I just held on tighter. He was bawling and writhing all over the place. I'm sure my mother was mortified out in the waiting room. I'm sure other people were thinking to themselves, "get that child out of here." The nurse got quite a vial out of him (like the size of my pinky.)
Even before the nurse managed to get the needle out of his arm, he slithered out of my lap and determinedly started walking out toward grandma.
And good to know, he doesn't have TB and his lead levels are fine.
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