While Ivan seems to have forgotten the "scha" he learned from me a few weeks ago, he now pronounce another word, the way I had properly pronounce "scha." He inserts sh for every s.
S words that get a sh are: bus, mess, and sit, which he says rather quite often. It's almost embarrasing.
He's also mastered three syllable words, such as "cipele," Croatian for shoes, "nonine," which should really be "novine," which is Croatian for newspaper, and "mamine," which is a Croatian possesive form for mom's.
He's also started to differentiate languages. Yesterday, he insisted on going "dole" as I was standing on the top of the stairs with him, while with Andy he insisted on going "outside." He also says cipele to me and shoes to Andy.
Also, last night, he went to bed early. When I got home at 7, he was already in quiet in bed, but not asleep.
My arrival roused him up. He insisted on going into our bedroom to look and point for "fuk in." He looked under the bed, he pointed to a corner of the bedroom. It was as if he was desperately trying to explain or communicate something to us. We couldn't figure out what he was saying nor what he wanted. Instead of kept looking at it each other, wondering whether he's saying what the word sounded like, and wondering when he could've heard that word. We still have no clue what he was trying to say.
Eventually he got tired of trying to "fuk in." He climbed up on the bed, leaned against the head rail and looked around all content, as if he owns the place. It was really weird.
Then he insiste on going "dole." Once downstairs, he insisted on "cipele" and "outside." Andy took him out to see what he wanted. Nothing. He just didn't want to go to sleep. Yet he was so overly tired that he need to go to sleep. Within 15 minutes, he was out like a light.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Artist Deconstructs His Work
On Saturday, Ivan found some stickers on the floor of his room. "Ticker, ticker," he said.
They came off the Easter Bunny plate they made in daycare a few weeks back. It was a white paper plate with yellow Easter Bunny cutout shape stapled to it. The Bunny had two different color ears stapled on and was decorated with stickers and some crumpled wads of glued-on tissue paper in different colors. The plate was hanging in his room. It was really cut. Shall I say, his first artistic collage piece?
I took the plate down so he could put the stickers back on it.
We looked and played with the plate a bit. Then I went to pee. I left him alone in the room with the plate. I heard to shushing and tearing noise. By the time I returned, he had pulled off the tissue paper, pulled off the tears and was basically tearing the whole plate appared.
He created a mess on the floor.
"Mesh, mesh," he promtly told me. "Tash, tash," he said as we started picking up the pieces. He wanted to run off and throw the trash into the trash can but I stopped him so I could collect the pieces and take a photo of his destroyed artwork.
As this was all going on, I couldn't help but wonder whether I could extrapolate some deeper meaning from his actions. He was the creator and destroyer of his piece of work.
He created it and then deconstructed, it calling it trash.
Not that he ever thought it was a valuable piece of anything, unlike us, adults close to him, in awe of every achievement.
They came off the Easter Bunny plate they made in daycare a few weeks back. It was a white paper plate with yellow Easter Bunny cutout shape stapled to it. The Bunny had two different color ears stapled on and was decorated with stickers and some crumpled wads of glued-on tissue paper in different colors. The plate was hanging in his room. It was really cut. Shall I say, his first artistic collage piece?
I took the plate down so he could put the stickers back on it.
We looked and played with the plate a bit. Then I went to pee. I left him alone in the room with the plate. I heard to shushing and tearing noise. By the time I returned, he had pulled off the tissue paper, pulled off the tears and was basically tearing the whole plate appared.
He created a mess on the floor.
"Mesh, mesh," he promtly told me. "Tash, tash," he said as we started picking up the pieces. He wanted to run off and throw the trash into the trash can but I stopped him so I could collect the pieces and take a photo of his destroyed artwork.
As this was all going on, I couldn't help but wonder whether I could extrapolate some deeper meaning from his actions. He was the creator and destroyer of his piece of work.
He created it and then deconstructed, it calling it trash.
Not that he ever thought it was a valuable piece of anything, unlike us, adults close to him, in awe of every achievement.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Conversing with a Toddler
"Where is Ivan," Emma asked, as I stepped a foot into Ivan's classroom this morning.
She didn't miss a beat, but immediately approached me. I was shocked because I didn't think she'd know who I was, considering I drop of Ivan so rarely. I was also shocked because I didn't know that she could speak. But Emma was the little girl who the other week came out and pulled Ivan into the classroom when Andy dropped him off and he stood in the hallway looking in, like he usually does. He's always reluctant to enter. He likes to observe first.
"His Daddy's changing his diaper because he pooped in the car."
As we got into the car this morning, the smell of poop filled the car. He must have pooped either in the car or as we were getting out of the house. He usually poops earlier in the morning and we change him before we leave, but not today.
"Why did he poop in the car?"
"It happens," I answered. "Have you ever pooped in the car?"
"Yes," Emma conceded.
Emma was standing near a table, where Alexandra, Isabella and Erica were eating. I asked them all their names. They rattled them off. Then I asked how old they were. Two, they all answered. At that point, another other little smiley girl with a twinkle in her eye skip-hopped in. It was Margaret. She also told me she was Margaret.
While I was asking all these questions, Emma went to tell Ms. Azi that she needed to potty. Isabella also said that she needed to potty. Ms. Azi replied to wait for Isabella to finish eating and she'd take them to potty. Then there was some commotion, where Isabella and Emma hit each other or something, and had to be separated and apologize. Or as Ms. Azi said, it's all about hugs and kisses, not fighting. Then there was an incident between Erica and Emma, and Erica got whiney.
All this happened within a couple of minutes. I was standing right there, participating in all of this, but it happened so fast, it's hard to reconstruct the sequence of these toddler actions. It all got resolved as quickly as it started.
Two boys, whom I didn't recognize, were playing at the other side of the room. Eventually, they sauntered over.. I asked them their names. They just looked at me. They reminded me of two little cavemen....just standing there looking rough and tough, non-communicative.
The difference between the girls and the boys was really striking.
Then Ivan and Andy appeared. Ivan had to scout out the situation, of course. But we left him in Ms. Azi's hands. She was going to sit him down and give him some cheerios to eat.
I don't know who Ivan hangs out with in daycare, but I imagine that recent outburst of talking must be the result of him observing and interacting with these little chatty girls.
She didn't miss a beat, but immediately approached me. I was shocked because I didn't think she'd know who I was, considering I drop of Ivan so rarely. I was also shocked because I didn't know that she could speak. But Emma was the little girl who the other week came out and pulled Ivan into the classroom when Andy dropped him off and he stood in the hallway looking in, like he usually does. He's always reluctant to enter. He likes to observe first.
"His Daddy's changing his diaper because he pooped in the car."
As we got into the car this morning, the smell of poop filled the car. He must have pooped either in the car or as we were getting out of the house. He usually poops earlier in the morning and we change him before we leave, but not today.
"Why did he poop in the car?"
"It happens," I answered. "Have you ever pooped in the car?"
"Yes," Emma conceded.
Emma was standing near a table, where Alexandra, Isabella and Erica were eating. I asked them all their names. They rattled them off. Then I asked how old they were. Two, they all answered. At that point, another other little smiley girl with a twinkle in her eye skip-hopped in. It was Margaret. She also told me she was Margaret.
While I was asking all these questions, Emma went to tell Ms. Azi that she needed to potty. Isabella also said that she needed to potty. Ms. Azi replied to wait for Isabella to finish eating and she'd take them to potty. Then there was some commotion, where Isabella and Emma hit each other or something, and had to be separated and apologize. Or as Ms. Azi said, it's all about hugs and kisses, not fighting. Then there was an incident between Erica and Emma, and Erica got whiney.
All this happened within a couple of minutes. I was standing right there, participating in all of this, but it happened so fast, it's hard to reconstruct the sequence of these toddler actions. It all got resolved as quickly as it started.
Two boys, whom I didn't recognize, were playing at the other side of the room. Eventually, they sauntered over.. I asked them their names. They just looked at me. They reminded me of two little cavemen....just standing there looking rough and tough, non-communicative.
The difference between the girls and the boys was really striking.
Then Ivan and Andy appeared. Ivan had to scout out the situation, of course. But we left him in Ms. Azi's hands. She was going to sit him down and give him some cheerios to eat.
I don't know who Ivan hangs out with in daycare, but I imagine that recent outburst of talking must be the result of him observing and interacting with these little chatty girls.
Delectable Lunches
On Monday I waited until noon, and then I skulked out of the office and headed for...McDonalds.
I spied one a while ago, tucked away on 17th St, between H and Pennsylvania. I always wondered, "How does that McDonalds fare, and who, other than out-of-town tourists visiting the White House, would want to eat there, considering the abundance of more refined lunch establishments nearby."
Now I know. Lots of office workers. To my surprise it was a very nice and clean McDonalds.
I ordered two $1 burgers and a sundae (couldn't help myself, but had to have a sundae). It was the best, most delectable lunch ever!
On Tuesday, I made it until 10:30 a.m., and hurried over. I wasn't sure whether they'd be serving burgers at that hour, but considering that I had an 11-12 meeting, I had to take my chances. I knew I wouldn't make it until after noon.
Two $1 burgers. Eaten on the premises. This time, the lunch crowd hadn't arrived yet, and it was me and several dubious, potentially homeless people, chowing down on food. But I didn't care.
Today, it was raining. So instead of braving the rain to head over McDonalds, I headed to the cafeteria. I knew they served burgers, although I had never gotten one. As I was ordering, I wondered, whether it would arrive with pickles, ketchup and mustard on a sweet bun because really that's what it's all about, biting that magical nexus where those ingredients meet.
This was a heartier burger, for $2. It came with lettuce (the crappy, white kind) and a tomato. I got a half a pickle from the sandwich line, and I picked up the to-go ketchup and mustard condiments.
I ate the burger at the privacy of my office, in front of my computer, savoring every bite. It tasted different that the signature McDonalds taste, but it was just as good. I can't wait to get another one tomorrow.
It's funny that pregnancy brings out such a carnivore in me, considering that I'm usually not the one who ever craves meat. Considering that I have probably eaten a non-ice cream at McDonalds less than 10 times in my life. Considering that I basically eat vegetarian, unless Andy or my dad or someone else cooks and feeds me meat.
And the older I get, the whole ethical side of killing and eating animals just bugs me more and more, especially when I see young animals happily romping around with their big glassy doe eyes, like we did on Saturday at Maryland day.
But I guess the pregnancy, which must be really a disguise for our instinct to survive, bring out our true, unfiltered, unadulterated nature of who and what we really are. Carnivores and omnivores. Wanting, needing, craving those burgers!
I see this in Ivan as well. He's too little to be aware of any social, ethical, cultural impositions. All he wants to eat is meat. Meat, cheese, beans and sweets. Those are the only things he asks for. My little carnivore.
I spied one a while ago, tucked away on 17th St, between H and Pennsylvania. I always wondered, "How does that McDonalds fare, and who, other than out-of-town tourists visiting the White House, would want to eat there, considering the abundance of more refined lunch establishments nearby."
Now I know. Lots of office workers. To my surprise it was a very nice and clean McDonalds.
I ordered two $1 burgers and a sundae (couldn't help myself, but had to have a sundae). It was the best, most delectable lunch ever!
On Tuesday, I made it until 10:30 a.m., and hurried over. I wasn't sure whether they'd be serving burgers at that hour, but considering that I had an 11-12 meeting, I had to take my chances. I knew I wouldn't make it until after noon.
Two $1 burgers. Eaten on the premises. This time, the lunch crowd hadn't arrived yet, and it was me and several dubious, potentially homeless people, chowing down on food. But I didn't care.
Today, it was raining. So instead of braving the rain to head over McDonalds, I headed to the cafeteria. I knew they served burgers, although I had never gotten one. As I was ordering, I wondered, whether it would arrive with pickles, ketchup and mustard on a sweet bun because really that's what it's all about, biting that magical nexus where those ingredients meet.
This was a heartier burger, for $2. It came with lettuce (the crappy, white kind) and a tomato. I got a half a pickle from the sandwich line, and I picked up the to-go ketchup and mustard condiments.
I ate the burger at the privacy of my office, in front of my computer, savoring every bite. It tasted different that the signature McDonalds taste, but it was just as good. I can't wait to get another one tomorrow.
It's funny that pregnancy brings out such a carnivore in me, considering that I'm usually not the one who ever craves meat. Considering that I have probably eaten a non-ice cream at McDonalds less than 10 times in my life. Considering that I basically eat vegetarian, unless Andy or my dad or someone else cooks and feeds me meat.
And the older I get, the whole ethical side of killing and eating animals just bugs me more and more, especially when I see young animals happily romping around with their big glassy doe eyes, like we did on Saturday at Maryland day.
But I guess the pregnancy, which must be really a disguise for our instinct to survive, bring out our true, unfiltered, unadulterated nature of who and what we really are. Carnivores and omnivores. Wanting, needing, craving those burgers!
I see this in Ivan as well. He's too little to be aware of any social, ethical, cultural impositions. All he wants to eat is meat. Meat, cheese, beans and sweets. Those are the only things he asks for. My little carnivore.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Ah, the sweet taste of McDonald
It was building up in my all afternoon, while I was at work today. First the water started tasting really funny (well, the water has been tasting funny for a few days now). Then I started pondering what do I want to eat, since I was getting slight hunger pangs. By the time I left work, these pangs formed themselves into a very specific craving---for a McDonald burger.
This happened last time as well. After being forced to take a bite of Andy's $1 burger on our way up to Providence so I wouldn't be hungry, the flood of cravings got unleashed. I was hooked on a $1 burger a day for a few weeks.
This time is posing to be the same. I never got to satiate the green curry craving of the other week, but that's OK because that craving passed only to be replaced by an intense need to consume pasta for the last two weeks. And now, today, the burger.
So on my way home from work, I drove past my house straight to a McDonald. I got the burger and ate it in the car.
Something magical happens at the intersection of sweet bun, pickle, mustard and ketchup and the background of pseudomeat just thick enough to bite into. It tastes so heavenly.
Ah, the evil cravings are back again.
This happened last time as well. After being forced to take a bite of Andy's $1 burger on our way up to Providence so I wouldn't be hungry, the flood of cravings got unleashed. I was hooked on a $1 burger a day for a few weeks.
This time is posing to be the same. I never got to satiate the green curry craving of the other week, but that's OK because that craving passed only to be replaced by an intense need to consume pasta for the last two weeks. And now, today, the burger.
So on my way home from work, I drove past my house straight to a McDonald. I got the burger and ate it in the car.
Something magical happens at the intersection of sweet bun, pickle, mustard and ketchup and the background of pseudomeat just thick enough to bite into. It tastes so heavenly.
Ah, the evil cravings are back again.
Maryland Day
Yesterday (Saturday) for the first time I made it to Maryland Day. It usually happens that our meetings are held on the same weekend so I can't go, but yesterday I didn't have to work, so my mom, Ivan and I headed over. Andy was working the event.
We stayed for only one hour because it got way too hot and Ivan was starting to get cranky, and besides, my mother had another event to attend to.
We only got to see the farm animals.
First the horses, whom the equestrian club took out for some galloping. Ivan was interested but only so so. I think it was really because it was to hot.
Then we went over to watch some cute pigs roll around in mud. I thought they were hysterical (and from now on there is no way I'll eat pork again.) Ivan again quickly lost interest. It could've been the heat, or maybe he really couldn't see well (the pigs or the horses) through the fence. He was in his stroller. I tried to get him out but he protested to be left alone.
Then we went into a barnyard (where it was really nice and cool and breezy) to check out some cows and sheep. We watched the cows (not the sheep) get sheered. He was mesmerized. He was observing the entire process very seriously, with that deep frown he gets on his face. (I'm not eating beef ever again. Well, at least until after the pregancy.)
Then another boy and his dad came over and stood by us. Since I was squatting the whole time to watch the cows with Ivan, I was at the other boy's eye-level as well. The boy was either really excited or somehow confused me with him mom, because he grabbed my finger to pull me away toward the sheep.
Well, that caught Ivan's attention, and he quickly grabbed the rest of my hand and pulled toward himself. "My mama," was the absolute meaning of that gesture. It cracked me up.
Then we made our way to a building where they were doling out free ice cream. We got a cup of vanilla and strawberry and sat along a wall in a shade outside the building. Ivan insisted on getting out of the stroller, so he could sit between my mom and I, and of course, be fed ice cream.
We walked around someome. In the ice cream area, they had all these natural farming, organic food type stands. We picked up some brochures.
Then it was time to wrap it up and come back home.
We stayed for only one hour because it got way too hot and Ivan was starting to get cranky, and besides, my mother had another event to attend to.
We only got to see the farm animals.
First the horses, whom the equestrian club took out for some galloping. Ivan was interested but only so so. I think it was really because it was to hot.
Then we went over to watch some cute pigs roll around in mud. I thought they were hysterical (and from now on there is no way I'll eat pork again.) Ivan again quickly lost interest. It could've been the heat, or maybe he really couldn't see well (the pigs or the horses) through the fence. He was in his stroller. I tried to get him out but he protested to be left alone.
Then we went into a barnyard (where it was really nice and cool and breezy) to check out some cows and sheep. We watched the cows (not the sheep) get sheered. He was mesmerized. He was observing the entire process very seriously, with that deep frown he gets on his face. (I'm not eating beef ever again. Well, at least until after the pregancy.)
Then another boy and his dad came over and stood by us. Since I was squatting the whole time to watch the cows with Ivan, I was at the other boy's eye-level as well. The boy was either really excited or somehow confused me with him mom, because he grabbed my finger to pull me away toward the sheep.
Well, that caught Ivan's attention, and he quickly grabbed the rest of my hand and pulled toward himself. "My mama," was the absolute meaning of that gesture. It cracked me up.
Then we made our way to a building where they were doling out free ice cream. We got a cup of vanilla and strawberry and sat along a wall in a shade outside the building. Ivan insisted on getting out of the stroller, so he could sit between my mom and I, and of course, be fed ice cream.
We walked around someome. In the ice cream area, they had all these natural farming, organic food type stands. We picked up some brochures.
Then it was time to wrap it up and come back home.
National lawn-mowing day?
From all the neighborhood activity today, it would appear that today was the neighborhood's lawn-mowing day as all men were out in full force fighting their blades of grass battles, including Andy.
Ivan and I went to the playground in the morning and then in the afternoon I had to go to work.
Otherwise, this weekend was the first real way to hot, "can't sleep at night in our overheated bedrooms even with the airconditing on" day.
Even by the time we got to the playground at 10 a.m. it was way too hot for Ivan to be out in full sun without any shade. I managed to put some sunscreen on him in the morning (although he bitterly fought it like he does every time), but without a hat, he was miserable.
I also realized that the kid sweats like there is no tomorrow. Apparently, it's normal. At least that's what Yulia said on the playground, and she is a pediatrician.
But Ivan's head was drenched is sweat, and his arms were so clammy to the touch.
Who knew.
Otherwise, he cracked me up today. Surprisingly, he was very social at the playground (so unlike him). He smiled at everyone, and wanted to be in the thick of action. He wanted me to swing with him on the see-saw. Really, he ordered me to sit on the other side so we can see-saw.
Then later, he went over to play with Gavin. They were trying to lift themselves up by their arms on some bars.
How "muscle boy" of them.
Ivan and I went to the playground in the morning and then in the afternoon I had to go to work.
Otherwise, this weekend was the first real way to hot, "can't sleep at night in our overheated bedrooms even with the airconditing on" day.
Even by the time we got to the playground at 10 a.m. it was way too hot for Ivan to be out in full sun without any shade. I managed to put some sunscreen on him in the morning (although he bitterly fought it like he does every time), but without a hat, he was miserable.
I also realized that the kid sweats like there is no tomorrow. Apparently, it's normal. At least that's what Yulia said on the playground, and she is a pediatrician.
But Ivan's head was drenched is sweat, and his arms were so clammy to the touch.
Who knew.
Otherwise, he cracked me up today. Surprisingly, he was very social at the playground (so unlike him). He smiled at everyone, and wanted to be in the thick of action. He wanted me to swing with him on the see-saw. Really, he ordered me to sit on the other side so we can see-saw.
Then later, he went over to play with Gavin. They were trying to lift themselves up by their arms on some bars.
How "muscle boy" of them.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Hugging Mama
Another adorable thing that happened on Saturday was the following: Ivan and I were sitting on the bench in the dining room. At one point he was Olexa hug Kris. I saw him observing and processing that action. Then he extended his arm and hugged me across my waist.
It was so cute.
It was so cute.
Playing with Isabella
On Saturday, Kris, Olexa, Jade and Isabella came over for playdate and dinner.
I was curious how the playday with Isabella would turn out, whether they'd recognize each other from daycare and whether they would play.
Well, they had a blast. They didn't skip a beat but dove right into play. Ivan showed her his Thomas the Train set. Of course Mariposa was right there in the thick of action, sitting in the middle of the train tracks.
When we sat down to eat dinner, they kept giggling at each other. Ivan saw Isabella eat quiche, so he actually ate a huge piece of quiche I had made, which he had never wanted to touch before. After dinner, they proceeded to chase each other around the kitchen-dining-living room loop. By the time they were done, Ivan was all sweaty and super exhausted that a bath was out of the question.
Seeing him play with Isabella like that made me realize that it would really be good for him to start inviting individual kids over to play with instead of a group of kids. In group situations, Ivan tends to retreat into the background to observe the action instead of taking part in it.
I was curious how the playday with Isabella would turn out, whether they'd recognize each other from daycare and whether they would play.
Well, they had a blast. They didn't skip a beat but dove right into play. Ivan showed her his Thomas the Train set. Of course Mariposa was right there in the thick of action, sitting in the middle of the train tracks.
When we sat down to eat dinner, they kept giggling at each other. Ivan saw Isabella eat quiche, so he actually ate a huge piece of quiche I had made, which he had never wanted to touch before. After dinner, they proceeded to chase each other around the kitchen-dining-living room loop. By the time they were done, Ivan was all sweaty and super exhausted that a bath was out of the question.
Seeing him play with Isabella like that made me realize that it would really be good for him to start inviting individual kids over to play with instead of a group of kids. In group situations, Ivan tends to retreat into the background to observe the action instead of taking part in it.
Playdoh Weekend
This past weekend was a playdoh weekend. That's all Ivan did and wanted to do.
I pulled out the playdoh on Friday since the weather was warm enough for us to be on the porch (I was "working" from home on Friday. Working in quotes because serious technical difficulties totally frustrated me and basically prevent me from working, so by mid-day after spending 2 and half hours on the phone with IT support, I just gave up and enjoyed the day home with Ivan, which was happened to be my birthday).
When Ivan saw playdoh, he got really excited. I guess it had really left an impression on him at daycare.
"Daay, do, daay, do," as he kept calling it.
He played with playdoh all day Friday, all day Saturday and all day Sunday.
Molding it, cutting it with a playdoh knife (he was pronouncing knife really funny but I can't remember now) and playdoh scissors.
I made a playdoh turtle, which really tickled him, and a playdoh car, which he tried to wheel across the porch.
And although I tried to contain it to the porch, little playdoh bits got all over the place--all over his shoes and clothes, all over the living and dining room, etc. Even Mariposa ate a few playdoh crumbs. ( I wondered whether she'd find them as tasty as crayons?)
I pulled out the playdoh on Friday since the weather was warm enough for us to be on the porch (I was "working" from home on Friday. Working in quotes because serious technical difficulties totally frustrated me and basically prevent me from working, so by mid-day after spending 2 and half hours on the phone with IT support, I just gave up and enjoyed the day home with Ivan, which was happened to be my birthday).
When Ivan saw playdoh, he got really excited. I guess it had really left an impression on him at daycare.
"Daay, do, daay, do," as he kept calling it.
He played with playdoh all day Friday, all day Saturday and all day Sunday.
Molding it, cutting it with a playdoh knife (he was pronouncing knife really funny but I can't remember now) and playdoh scissors.
I made a playdoh turtle, which really tickled him, and a playdoh car, which he tried to wheel across the porch.
And although I tried to contain it to the porch, little playdoh bits got all over the place--all over his shoes and clothes, all over the living and dining room, etc. Even Mariposa ate a few playdoh crumbs. ( I wondered whether she'd find them as tasty as crayons?)
Easter Recap
Since I've been so tired the last two weeks my midnight ramblings have been reduced to deep slumber by 9 p.m. hence no daily (weekly) recaps.
Anyway, Easter was eight days ago. We went to Andy's parents house, after we spent the night at my parents. We left Posa behind (my mom said she had a blast streching out in the sun and doing all lazy basset-y things)
At Andy's parents house, it was the usual humdrum, with his sisters and their families, Gramps and Ronnie's mom.
Ivan got three Easter baskets with all sorts of stuff. (Of course, Andy and I didn't let him eat the candy, but we divvied it up between ourselves during the course of the week.) But he got other cool stuff.
When we got there, he was initially shy. But then he loosened up. He had a good time with Josh. I caught them in a very cute moment, reading a book in the kids room. It just cracks me up that Josh is so attentive to Ivan. Of all the cousins, I'd expect him to be the one least interested in babies.
After lunch, Ivan and I went into their back yard to pick up eggs, which they had thrown all of the yard for Ivan to pick up. It was lots of fun. He kept saying "ja, ja."
He also played in the grass with Andy, Josh and Jacob....some sort of ball-related activity.
Later in the day, Josh and Jacob were playing video games in Andy's parents bedroom. Ivan stood by the entry way, looking at them. He was interested in what the big boys were doing but he was too shy to go in. It was really cute.
He didn't take a nap that day. I didn't even bother to try to put him down because I knew he wouldn't sleep. So by the time we left at 5, he fell asleep in the car before we even managed to turn onto 83. He woke up for a second when we pulled to my parents' house to pick up Mariposa. But I handed him Medic and he fell back asleep. When we came home, he woke up cranky while we were trying to change him. But with some milk and Medic he was out like a light when I put him to bed. So in other words he fell asleep at 5 for the night.
Of course, I knew he was going to be up at 5 a.m. And he was. At 5:12 to be more exact. Chipper, babble-y and starving.
Anyway, Easter was eight days ago. We went to Andy's parents house, after we spent the night at my parents. We left Posa behind (my mom said she had a blast streching out in the sun and doing all lazy basset-y things)
At Andy's parents house, it was the usual humdrum, with his sisters and their families, Gramps and Ronnie's mom.
Ivan got three Easter baskets with all sorts of stuff. (Of course, Andy and I didn't let him eat the candy, but we divvied it up between ourselves during the course of the week.) But he got other cool stuff.
When we got there, he was initially shy. But then he loosened up. He had a good time with Josh. I caught them in a very cute moment, reading a book in the kids room. It just cracks me up that Josh is so attentive to Ivan. Of all the cousins, I'd expect him to be the one least interested in babies.
After lunch, Ivan and I went into their back yard to pick up eggs, which they had thrown all of the yard for Ivan to pick up. It was lots of fun. He kept saying "ja, ja."
He also played in the grass with Andy, Josh and Jacob....some sort of ball-related activity.
Later in the day, Josh and Jacob were playing video games in Andy's parents bedroom. Ivan stood by the entry way, looking at them. He was interested in what the big boys were doing but he was too shy to go in. It was really cute.
He didn't take a nap that day. I didn't even bother to try to put him down because I knew he wouldn't sleep. So by the time we left at 5, he fell asleep in the car before we even managed to turn onto 83. He woke up for a second when we pulled to my parents' house to pick up Mariposa. But I handed him Medic and he fell back asleep. When we came home, he woke up cranky while we were trying to change him. But with some milk and Medic he was out like a light when I put him to bed. So in other words he fell asleep at 5 for the night.
Of course, I knew he was going to be up at 5 a.m. And he was. At 5:12 to be more exact. Chipper, babble-y and starving.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Green Curry Cravings
Late last week, I got a craving for green curry. I found it rather weird---while I like the green curry taste, I usually find such dishes way too spicy for my palate. I don't recall ever having that craving.
Luckily for me, during my regular Sunday Trader Joe food shopping trip, I stumpled across one of those quick, 2-minutes nuke-them, Trader Ming, Thai prepackaged packages in green curry basmati rice flavor. A new flavor. It appeared in the store just in time for me. I bought it and ate it that evening. It was just what I needed, albeit a bit too spicy. Unfortunately, I bought just one. I should've bought more.
But then the green curry craving returned this week again. It's been an on and off craving. Unfortunately, due to logistical issues, I haven't managed to satiate it yet. In other words, we didn't have a chance to order Thai.
But the craving got me wondering---why now, is it really possible?
I also found it suspicious that since Wednesday onward, I've been very tired. Granted on Monday and Tuesday I slept poorly---going to bed too late because of work and my new addiction to Sookie Stackhouse novels, of which I've been devouring one per evening, and the fact that Ivan kept waking up all night. So on Wednesday when I felt like falling asleep at 9 but had to be awake to listen to the Champion window guy's spiel about siding and windows from 7 to 11 p.m., I chocked it up to lack of sleep. But the same thing happened on Thursday and Friday--by 8 p.m. I was dead tired. That also got me wondering.
On Friday morning, I got my answer. Barely awake and stumbling myself into the bathroom, I took one of those ept home kit pregnancy tests and yes, there was a plus sign. Since I couldn't see straight, I took the test to bed so Andy can read the windows. He agreed, it was a plus. During lunch, I went to CVS and bought a store brand test. Initially, the plan was for me to take the test when I got home. But why wait, I thought. So I went to the bathroom at work, peed on the stick and waited. And yes, the lines appeared again. So although it's super early in the game (because Friday would've been 31 days since my last period) and I'm not telling anyone, it looks like I'm pregnant. Finally! It's only taken us since last July to get to this point.
I recall this happened last time as well. For the first few weeks I was really addicted to those Starbucks green tea frappuchino, until the nausea kicked in.
Luckily for me, during my regular Sunday Trader Joe food shopping trip, I stumpled across one of those quick, 2-minutes nuke-them, Trader Ming, Thai prepackaged packages in green curry basmati rice flavor. A new flavor. It appeared in the store just in time for me. I bought it and ate it that evening. It was just what I needed, albeit a bit too spicy. Unfortunately, I bought just one. I should've bought more.
But then the green curry craving returned this week again. It's been an on and off craving. Unfortunately, due to logistical issues, I haven't managed to satiate it yet. In other words, we didn't have a chance to order Thai.
But the craving got me wondering---why now, is it really possible?
I also found it suspicious that since Wednesday onward, I've been very tired. Granted on Monday and Tuesday I slept poorly---going to bed too late because of work and my new addiction to Sookie Stackhouse novels, of which I've been devouring one per evening, and the fact that Ivan kept waking up all night. So on Wednesday when I felt like falling asleep at 9 but had to be awake to listen to the Champion window guy's spiel about siding and windows from 7 to 11 p.m., I chocked it up to lack of sleep. But the same thing happened on Thursday and Friday--by 8 p.m. I was dead tired. That also got me wondering.
On Friday morning, I got my answer. Barely awake and stumbling myself into the bathroom, I took one of those ept home kit pregnancy tests and yes, there was a plus sign. Since I couldn't see straight, I took the test to bed so Andy can read the windows. He agreed, it was a plus. During lunch, I went to CVS and bought a store brand test. Initially, the plan was for me to take the test when I got home. But why wait, I thought. So I went to the bathroom at work, peed on the stick and waited. And yes, the lines appeared again. So although it's super early in the game (because Friday would've been 31 days since my last period) and I'm not telling anyone, it looks like I'm pregnant. Finally! It's only taken us since last July to get to this point.
I recall this happened last time as well. For the first few weeks I was really addicted to those Starbucks green tea frappuchino, until the nausea kicked in.
Easter Egg Dyeing
We're spending today at my parents' house, while tomorrow we'll be spending Easter with Andy's family.
We're all here, including Posa. We'll spend the night here and then in the morning drive to Andy's parents. Mariposa will stay behind with my parents.
Ivan's actually been here since Thursday night when my parents picked him up from daycare and brought him here.
The idea for today was to come and have big lunch, color eggs and do an Easter egg hunt in the back yard. I had purchased all the supplies.
Originally, Ivan and I were supposed to color eggs at our house during the week but it didn't work out: I bought the eggs on Sunday, boiled them on Monday or Tuesday, I forget, on Wednesday the Champion window guy came and was selling us siding and windows from 7 to 11, and on Thursday Ivan was at my parents.
So the egg coloring got postponed until today.
It had been years since I dyed eggs. I expected it to be a cumbersome and long process that would take us at least one hour or two. I was looking forward to doing this activity with Ivan.
But things of course didn't go as planned.
First, when I set out to color eggs in the afternoon, Ivan really wanted to eat his Yoyos. (Although he had eaten five Yoyos yesterday, and one Yoyo earlier today.) So he wasn't interested in coloring eggs, although I did want to peel an egg. He did a great job.
Second, the eggs I bought and boiled were brown not white. Until I dunk the eggs in the six colors I prepared, it didn't occur to me that the dye wouldn't show on brown eggs.
Third, the whole thing took like 15 minutes. With six dyes and some dozen eggs, the dyeing when by really fast.
Ivan took some interested near the end of the process. He wanted to dunk the eggs in the cups with dye. Of course, he wasn't allowed to do that.
He especially liked to watch the colored water be flushed down the toilet.
Some time later, while he was eating oatmeal (although he really wanted another Yoyo), he and I put some stickers on one egg. He enjoyed that. Although the stickers were really tiny so it was a bit hard for him to manouver.
All in all, the egg dyeing wasn't as hand-on, photo op activity like I had hoped for (like pumpkin carving was for Halloween).
Since it was raining today, we couldn't do an egg hunt. We'll do it tomorrow morning before we go to Andy's parents. Andy's family (all the cousins included) are preparing an egg hunt there as well.
I'm looking forward to it.
We're all here, including Posa. We'll spend the night here and then in the morning drive to Andy's parents. Mariposa will stay behind with my parents.
Ivan's actually been here since Thursday night when my parents picked him up from daycare and brought him here.
The idea for today was to come and have big lunch, color eggs and do an Easter egg hunt in the back yard. I had purchased all the supplies.
Originally, Ivan and I were supposed to color eggs at our house during the week but it didn't work out: I bought the eggs on Sunday, boiled them on Monday or Tuesday, I forget, on Wednesday the Champion window guy came and was selling us siding and windows from 7 to 11, and on Thursday Ivan was at my parents.
So the egg coloring got postponed until today.
It had been years since I dyed eggs. I expected it to be a cumbersome and long process that would take us at least one hour or two. I was looking forward to doing this activity with Ivan.
But things of course didn't go as planned.
First, when I set out to color eggs in the afternoon, Ivan really wanted to eat his Yoyos. (Although he had eaten five Yoyos yesterday, and one Yoyo earlier today.) So he wasn't interested in coloring eggs, although I did want to peel an egg. He did a great job.
Second, the eggs I bought and boiled were brown not white. Until I dunk the eggs in the six colors I prepared, it didn't occur to me that the dye wouldn't show on brown eggs.
Third, the whole thing took like 15 minutes. With six dyes and some dozen eggs, the dyeing when by really fast.
Ivan took some interested near the end of the process. He wanted to dunk the eggs in the cups with dye. Of course, he wasn't allowed to do that.
He especially liked to watch the colored water be flushed down the toilet.
Some time later, while he was eating oatmeal (although he really wanted another Yoyo), he and I put some stickers on one egg. He enjoyed that. Although the stickers were really tiny so it was a bit hard for him to manouver.
All in all, the egg dyeing wasn't as hand-on, photo op activity like I had hoped for (like pumpkin carving was for Halloween).
Since it was raining today, we couldn't do an egg hunt. We'll do it tomorrow morning before we go to Andy's parents. Andy's family (all the cousins included) are preparing an egg hunt there as well.
I'm looking forward to it.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Peeling Egg Shells
Yulia, one of my playground moms, gave a me perfect tip how to keep Ivan busy.
They eat lots of eggs at home, and while Leyla, her daughter doesn't like eggs (neither does Ivan), she likes to peel the eggshell of hard boiled eggs. And apparently Leyla has gotten so good at it that now she peels off their eggshells.
I thought what a perfect fine motor skills activity to show Ivan.
And today, it just so happened, I had some hardboiled eggs handy to stave off a temper tantrum while we were waiting for Andy to finish cooking one of our quick, on the fly dinners.
I boiled a dozen eggs last night because I want to color eggs with Ivan tomorrow for Easter, which is this weekend.
I also bought an easter book for him "Where are Baby's Easter Eggs," which we've been reading each night since Sunday. I was shocked to realize he knows the word "jaja," Croatian for "egg." I have no clue where he picked that up, since he usually doesn't see us eat eggs, I doubt he's seen me use eggs in baking, and I don't recall any pictures of eggs in any other picture books. But oh well.
But I digressed from my original topic. So tonight, I got an egg and started peeling it. He was in awe. He took the egg from me and continued to carefully and slowly peel the shell off. He loved it. He was so focused on it and so dexterous at doing it.
It truly is a perfect activity for him.
They eat lots of eggs at home, and while Leyla, her daughter doesn't like eggs (neither does Ivan), she likes to peel the eggshell of hard boiled eggs. And apparently Leyla has gotten so good at it that now she peels off their eggshells.
I thought what a perfect fine motor skills activity to show Ivan.
And today, it just so happened, I had some hardboiled eggs handy to stave off a temper tantrum while we were waiting for Andy to finish cooking one of our quick, on the fly dinners.
I boiled a dozen eggs last night because I want to color eggs with Ivan tomorrow for Easter, which is this weekend.
I also bought an easter book for him "Where are Baby's Easter Eggs," which we've been reading each night since Sunday. I was shocked to realize he knows the word "jaja," Croatian for "egg." I have no clue where he picked that up, since he usually doesn't see us eat eggs, I doubt he's seen me use eggs in baking, and I don't recall any pictures of eggs in any other picture books. But oh well.
But I digressed from my original topic. So tonight, I got an egg and started peeling it. He was in awe. He took the egg from me and continued to carefully and slowly peel the shell off. He loved it. He was so focused on it and so dexterous at doing it.
It truly is a perfect activity for him.
Daycare and Playdoh
There seems to be a theme in Ivan's recent interests. They all seem to focus on art. First, the last week's daycare painting, then yesterday's bathtub grafitti. Then this morning, I could overhear Andy and Ivan drawing while I was upstairs getting ready.
Then when Andy dropped off Ivan at daycare, playdoh was put out, ready to be manipulated.
When Andy picked up Ivan, he was playing with playdoh. He was really engrossed in it, according to Andy, that he didn't move when Andy arrived to pick him up but continued playing with playdoh for a long time.
I wondered whether there are any Ivan playdoh sculptures that daycare will give us?
I think it hurt Andy's feelings a bit that Ivan wasn't thrilled to see him but continued playing with playdoh. I think that maybe that's a good sign that he's enjoying daycare.
Andy does say that in the morning he no longer cries, but holds on to his leg just a bit when Andy's about to leave.
I'm also thrilled that Ivan like to both paint (well, he painted only once) and likes playdoh. I've been planning to do those activities with him this summer because, of course, they're outdoor messy porch activities, not the indoor ones.
I was afraid that he wouldn't be interested in such hands on art activities but would prefer to continue deconstructing vacuumcleaners and plugging things into various bups.
Then when Andy dropped off Ivan at daycare, playdoh was put out, ready to be manipulated.
When Andy picked up Ivan, he was playing with playdoh. He was really engrossed in it, according to Andy, that he didn't move when Andy arrived to pick him up but continued playing with playdoh for a long time.
I wondered whether there are any Ivan playdoh sculptures that daycare will give us?
I think it hurt Andy's feelings a bit that Ivan wasn't thrilled to see him but continued playing with playdoh. I think that maybe that's a good sign that he's enjoying daycare.
Andy does say that in the morning he no longer cries, but holds on to his leg just a bit when Andy's about to leave.
I'm also thrilled that Ivan like to both paint (well, he painted only once) and likes playdoh. I've been planning to do those activities with him this summer because, of course, they're outdoor messy porch activities, not the indoor ones.
I was afraid that he wouldn't be interested in such hands on art activities but would prefer to continue deconstructing vacuumcleaners and plugging things into various bups.
Bathroom Grafitti or a Budding Abstractionist
Yesterday I gave Ivan a bath. Bath time is usually a daddy activity. (Why? It was just simpler to divvy up afterwork, pre-bed time tasks. We get home. Scramble to get something to eat. Andy gives Ivan a bath while I clean up. I put Ivan to sleep while Andy walks Mariposa.)
Since he wasn't too tired, he really enjoyed taking a bath. If he's too tired, then he simply cries and refuses to get into the tub. In those instances, it's skip the bath time and tuck him straight to bed, with the help of some meme.
While the bathtub was filling up with water, we "brusha, brushad" our teeth. Since he absolutely refuses to let me brush his teeth or even peak into his mouth, I've finally devised a clever scheme to get him to work with me--I plop him up on the bathroom sink so he can look at himself in the mirror. Then we brusha, brusha together so he sees that he has to brush the front teeth and all four sides. Then we brush our tongue, which he finds hilarious.
Then it was finally time to get into the tub. I love the fact that he tries helps me take his clothes off.
Instead of playing with his regular bath toys, which include squirting water onto himself with a squirty car and ducky, or dumping water from the toy boat into the toy submarine, he wanted his bathroom crayon. He saw a completely new crayon on top of the medicine cabinet (which is my only spot in the house to store out of reach items, such as detergent, etc), which I had to get for him.
When he got into the tub, I spelled Ivan, Mama, Dadda, Baka and Dida on the side of the tub. And he took the crayon from me, and wouldn't let go. By the time the bath was done, the water was cold and the tub was covered in red.
He was so focused and so intent on drawing. I've never seem him so into it before. He was like a little artist, working on his masterpiece, completely oblivious to the outside world, just focus on his artwork, because he had to draw it, had to finish it....
The tub walls and the bottom were covered in red by the time he was done.
I should've taken a photo of it, but I didn't. I was too embarrased to record for posterity the sorry state of our dilapitated bathtub with old glaze peeling off, which is in dire need of needing to be reglazed or fitted with a bath tub fitter.
Fixing the bathtub has been on our list of house projects to tackle since the moment we moved in. But I couldn't decide whether to reglaze of bathfitter it. There is also a question of cost and money. And of course, plain inertia to get cracking on such a project.
But now, it may be high time to tackle this project. After I tucked Ivan to bed, I went to clean off the doodles. In general, bathtub cleaning is at the very top of house chores I despise to do. For some reason, I find it hard, cumbersome and tedious, and one has to bend at weird angles to scrub really well. Ivan's scribbles were impossible to clean. Actually, it was much easier than I had anticipated it, but still there was some physical exertion required and scrubbing the bathtub sides did require angling my body in uncomfortable positions.
Even though I did a good job cleaning up the doodles, the white tub walls ended up with that just barely visible but definitely there reddish/pinkish tint to them. Instead of scrubbing that off, it will just be easier to update the bathtub.
Since he wasn't too tired, he really enjoyed taking a bath. If he's too tired, then he simply cries and refuses to get into the tub. In those instances, it's skip the bath time and tuck him straight to bed, with the help of some meme.
While the bathtub was filling up with water, we "brusha, brushad" our teeth. Since he absolutely refuses to let me brush his teeth or even peak into his mouth, I've finally devised a clever scheme to get him to work with me--I plop him up on the bathroom sink so he can look at himself in the mirror. Then we brusha, brusha together so he sees that he has to brush the front teeth and all four sides. Then we brush our tongue, which he finds hilarious.
Then it was finally time to get into the tub. I love the fact that he tries helps me take his clothes off.
Instead of playing with his regular bath toys, which include squirting water onto himself with a squirty car and ducky, or dumping water from the toy boat into the toy submarine, he wanted his bathroom crayon. He saw a completely new crayon on top of the medicine cabinet (which is my only spot in the house to store out of reach items, such as detergent, etc), which I had to get for him.
When he got into the tub, I spelled Ivan, Mama, Dadda, Baka and Dida on the side of the tub. And he took the crayon from me, and wouldn't let go. By the time the bath was done, the water was cold and the tub was covered in red.
He was so focused and so intent on drawing. I've never seem him so into it before. He was like a little artist, working on his masterpiece, completely oblivious to the outside world, just focus on his artwork, because he had to draw it, had to finish it....
The tub walls and the bottom were covered in red by the time he was done.
I should've taken a photo of it, but I didn't. I was too embarrased to record for posterity the sorry state of our dilapitated bathtub with old glaze peeling off, which is in dire need of needing to be reglazed or fitted with a bath tub fitter.
Fixing the bathtub has been on our list of house projects to tackle since the moment we moved in. But I couldn't decide whether to reglaze of bathfitter it. There is also a question of cost and money. And of course, plain inertia to get cracking on such a project.
But now, it may be high time to tackle this project. After I tucked Ivan to bed, I went to clean off the doodles. In general, bathtub cleaning is at the very top of house chores I despise to do. For some reason, I find it hard, cumbersome and tedious, and one has to bend at weird angles to scrub really well. Ivan's scribbles were impossible to clean. Actually, it was much easier than I had anticipated it, but still there was some physical exertion required and scrubbing the bathtub sides did require angling my body in uncomfortable positions.
Even though I did a good job cleaning up the doodles, the white tub walls ended up with that just barely visible but definitely there reddish/pinkish tint to them. Instead of scrubbing that off, it will just be easier to update the bathtub.
Friday, April 3, 2009
First Artwork
One day last week, Ivan returned from daycare with his pants completely drenched in red paint.
What happened, I wondered.
They painted, Andy said.
Someone's grandma, who's an artist, hung out with the kids the entire day. And they painted.
Andy said that Ivan's painting looked a bit different than other kids. They had all mushed and mixed their colors together. Ivan's had big, defined, separate, thick lines and blobs of yellow and red. (And some green, which Ms. Yvonne did to get him started.)
She also said that apparently if kids can make such distinct lines that they means they'll be quicker to learn to read, or something along those lines. Andy wasn't necessarily convinced.
I'm just excited that he painted. I hope he liked it. I've been looking forward to us doing that over the summer because painting is really an outdoors activity due to its inherent messy factor.
This week the artwork arrived home. Along with a group photo of the classroom and two shots of Ivan the Painter, sitting on the floor dressed in big plastic oversized bib/apron.
The photos are a bit fuzzy. I never fail to be astounded at people's inability to take clear, simple photos inspite ofserious advancements in photo technology. Ivan himself can take better photos on his toy camera. But that's OK. At least there are photos.
Now, I'm looking for a frame to frame this first masterpiece and hang it along with the two fuzzy photos.
When I was little, a few years older than Ivan but still in kindergarden, I vividly remember one time when we painted. I chose to paint two separate paintings. Both were of a flower. A flower I made up. I wanted to use up every color available to us. I remember this was my objective, very vividly even after 30 plus years. The teachers thought the paintings were weird. They thought it was strange that I made the stalks red and used black as one of the many colors for the petals. They chose not to hang up my paintings in some open exhibition space they prepared. I was devasted. I thought my idea of using every color was brilliant. The teachers didn't see it that way, but my parents did. They framed the two paintings. They hung in my childhood bedroom and were later brought over to the US. They still hang in their house. And to this day, I think they look rather avantgarde and cool.
What happened, I wondered.
They painted, Andy said.
Someone's grandma, who's an artist, hung out with the kids the entire day. And they painted.
Andy said that Ivan's painting looked a bit different than other kids. They had all mushed and mixed their colors together. Ivan's had big, defined, separate, thick lines and blobs of yellow and red. (And some green, which Ms. Yvonne did to get him started.)
She also said that apparently if kids can make such distinct lines that they means they'll be quicker to learn to read, or something along those lines. Andy wasn't necessarily convinced.
I'm just excited that he painted. I hope he liked it. I've been looking forward to us doing that over the summer because painting is really an outdoors activity due to its inherent messy factor.
This week the artwork arrived home. Along with a group photo of the classroom and two shots of Ivan the Painter, sitting on the floor dressed in big plastic oversized bib/apron.
The photos are a bit fuzzy. I never fail to be astounded at people's inability to take clear, simple photos inspite ofserious advancements in photo technology. Ivan himself can take better photos on his toy camera. But that's OK. At least there are photos.
Now, I'm looking for a frame to frame this first masterpiece and hang it along with the two fuzzy photos.
When I was little, a few years older than Ivan but still in kindergarden, I vividly remember one time when we painted. I chose to paint two separate paintings. Both were of a flower. A flower I made up. I wanted to use up every color available to us. I remember this was my objective, very vividly even after 30 plus years. The teachers thought the paintings were weird. They thought it was strange that I made the stalks red and used black as one of the many colors for the petals. They chose not to hang up my paintings in some open exhibition space they prepared. I was devasted. I thought my idea of using every color was brilliant. The teachers didn't see it that way, but my parents did. They framed the two paintings. They hung in my childhood bedroom and were later brought over to the US. They still hang in their house. And to this day, I think they look rather avantgarde and cool.
The Bottle, Milk, Teeth Dilemma
Although I haven't reflected on it lately, I have made absolutely no progress and really just several truly halfhearted attempts in getting Ivan off the bottle.
Actually I think it has gotten worse than it was last summer. I think he now asks for his bottle and is more attached to it than he was before.
He still needs the meme (milk) to wake up in the morning and continues sucking on the bottle long after he's done drinking the milk, which by mnow he actually chugs down in a second.
I try to remove the bottle telling him it will give a bubu to his teeth, but he absolutely protests.
I'm not sure what happens during the day in daycare. But when he's at home, I know my parents give him the bottle rather willingly (since they believe in setting limits much less than we do), and he needs the bottle to go down for a nap.
In the evening, the same cycle repeats itself. After bath, during which he halfhazardly brushes his teeth because he insist on doing it himself and doesn't allow us to help him, he gets his milk. He gets cranky and inconsolable if he doesn't get it. He drinks it in a seco but continues sucking on the bottle and won't let me remove it. So I give in and just plop him to bed with it. Or if he falls asleep with me, then I just let him suck on it until he's asleep and I transfer him to be.
And every day, I continue silently freaking out that he'll end up with cavity pocked, rotten black teeth by the age of 4.
It didn't help when a few month back I went to see my dentist, the one I've been going to for years, I brought up this issue with my hygenist. It's hard to chitchat while someone is trying to clean your mouth but I tried. I was also a captive audience. The woman, who has two teenage kids, couldn't understand that we couldn't brush Ivan's teeth. Her kids apparently had no problem with her taking control over their mouths to brush their teeth like Ivan who tends to be rather propriatery about his mouth. She then continued to monologue by saying that she actually considers not brushing a todders's teeth and not removing the bottle to be child abuse.
I was livid and horrified, and unfortunately, unable to say anything as she saw started polishing my teeth.
Nedless to say, this hasn't really helped my bottle/milk/teeth anxiety I've been harboring for a year now.
Actually I think it has gotten worse than it was last summer. I think he now asks for his bottle and is more attached to it than he was before.
He still needs the meme (milk) to wake up in the morning and continues sucking on the bottle long after he's done drinking the milk, which by mnow he actually chugs down in a second.
I try to remove the bottle telling him it will give a bubu to his teeth, but he absolutely protests.
I'm not sure what happens during the day in daycare. But when he's at home, I know my parents give him the bottle rather willingly (since they believe in setting limits much less than we do), and he needs the bottle to go down for a nap.
In the evening, the same cycle repeats itself. After bath, during which he halfhazardly brushes his teeth because he insist on doing it himself and doesn't allow us to help him, he gets his milk. He gets cranky and inconsolable if he doesn't get it. He drinks it in a seco but continues sucking on the bottle and won't let me remove it. So I give in and just plop him to bed with it. Or if he falls asleep with me, then I just let him suck on it until he's asleep and I transfer him to be.
And every day, I continue silently freaking out that he'll end up with cavity pocked, rotten black teeth by the age of 4.
It didn't help when a few month back I went to see my dentist, the one I've been going to for years, I brought up this issue with my hygenist. It's hard to chitchat while someone is trying to clean your mouth but I tried. I was also a captive audience. The woman, who has two teenage kids, couldn't understand that we couldn't brush Ivan's teeth. Her kids apparently had no problem with her taking control over their mouths to brush their teeth like Ivan who tends to be rather propriatery about his mouth. She then continued to monologue by saying that she actually considers not brushing a todders's teeth and not removing the bottle to be child abuse.
I was livid and horrified, and unfortunately, unable to say anything as she saw started polishing my teeth.
Nedless to say, this hasn't really helped my bottle/milk/teeth anxiety I've been harboring for a year now.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Reading; Bedtime Books
Related to speaking has been reading and Ivan's interest in books. This is something I've been freaking out about for the last year, at least.
The last few weeks, probably the last two months, he's become crazy about books. He'll flip through them on his own during the day. He absolutely insist we read books before bedtime. When we're done with one book, he insists on "moo, moo." He'll also get off the bed to go and bring me more books. And he knows which ones we just read and doesn't want to reread them again.
He gets really upset if I cut off the book reading time.
I've tried introducing the concept of "this is the last book we'll read and then you have to go to sleep," but I think he's still too little to grasp that concept.
He likes to point to the "moon" on every page of every book that has a moon, like in Good Night Moon, the Going to Bed Book, etc....As soon as I flip the page, he finds the moon, points to and and says "moo, moo." (Actually as of this week, the "moo" has become the full word "moon.")
In the Good Night Moon, he also looks for the little mouse on every page. I don't know whether my mom first showed him the mouse or he found it himself. It's been a few months. He looks for the mouse and says "mi, mi". (Again this week, I think that "mi, mi" has become a very soft "misic")
He also points to mush on the page where the mouse is eating the bowl full of mush.
I'm really glad that he's finally gotten into books and that reading books has become a bedtime ritual.
For a long time last year, I was really anxious that Ivan wasn't interested in books while apparently all other moms had quiet, well behaved one-year olds who were eager to sit in their lap and read a book before bedtime. Ivan was interested in running around like a maniac after his bath (or like in the Going to Bed book, after bath, he'd go up to exercise!). I couldn't calm him down; he wouldn't sit or lay with me. Only plopping him in his crib would calm him and he'd fall a sleep without a problem.
All this started half a year ago in October. It was the week of Andy's birthday, the week the time changed. The night of Andy's birthday Ivan had too much cake. I think he was too high on sugar to be able to fall asleep on his own. He wanted me to lay with him in the spare bedroom while he tossed and turned and finally calmed down. That same night the sky was really crisp and clear and moon was bright. He was mesmerized. I think that was the first time he actually saw the moon.
In any case, since that night, he wanted to lay with me on the bed while he fell asleep and started refusing to be put in his crib to fall asleep. He also stopped running around after bath time but started to cuddle. I tried reading books. After a few months, he really got into them. Now he won't go to bed unless we read a few books.
The last few weeks, probably the last two months, he's become crazy about books. He'll flip through them on his own during the day. He absolutely insist we read books before bedtime. When we're done with one book, he insists on "moo, moo." He'll also get off the bed to go and bring me more books. And he knows which ones we just read and doesn't want to reread them again.
He gets really upset if I cut off the book reading time.
I've tried introducing the concept of "this is the last book we'll read and then you have to go to sleep," but I think he's still too little to grasp that concept.
He likes to point to the "moon" on every page of every book that has a moon, like in Good Night Moon, the Going to Bed Book, etc....As soon as I flip the page, he finds the moon, points to and and says "moo, moo." (Actually as of this week, the "moo" has become the full word "moon.")
In the Good Night Moon, he also looks for the little mouse on every page. I don't know whether my mom first showed him the mouse or he found it himself. It's been a few months. He looks for the mouse and says "mi, mi". (Again this week, I think that "mi, mi" has become a very soft "misic")
He also points to mush on the page where the mouse is eating the bowl full of mush.
I'm really glad that he's finally gotten into books and that reading books has become a bedtime ritual.
For a long time last year, I was really anxious that Ivan wasn't interested in books while apparently all other moms had quiet, well behaved one-year olds who were eager to sit in their lap and read a book before bedtime. Ivan was interested in running around like a maniac after his bath (or like in the Going to Bed book, after bath, he'd go up to exercise!). I couldn't calm him down; he wouldn't sit or lay with me. Only plopping him in his crib would calm him and he'd fall a sleep without a problem.
All this started half a year ago in October. It was the week of Andy's birthday, the week the time changed. The night of Andy's birthday Ivan had too much cake. I think he was too high on sugar to be able to fall asleep on his own. He wanted me to lay with him in the spare bedroom while he tossed and turned and finally calmed down. That same night the sky was really crisp and clear and moon was bright. He was mesmerized. I think that was the first time he actually saw the moon.
In any case, since that night, he wanted to lay with me on the bed while he fell asleep and started refusing to be put in his crib to fall asleep. He also stopped running around after bath time but started to cuddle. I tried reading books. After a few months, he really got into them. Now he won't go to bed unless we read a few books.
Who Is This Talkative Child? "Guyshzh, guyshzh"
Over the last week and a half, Ivan has been making such a tremendous progress in learning to speak that it's simply astounding.
Every new day, well actually every time he wakes up from a nap, he seems to be pronouncing new words. He's moved beyond first syllable pronounciation into pronouncing the entire word. So "mo" has become "moon." Meso is meat. He repeated quiche after me on Monday. Nothing else comes to mind right now but I'm literally floored every day by his vocabulary.
I went away for a night over the weekend to see Lucy in Philly. I didn't see him in some 24 hours--from Saturday afternoon until Sunday afternoon. I was shocked how many new words and full word pronounciation he had picked up in that time period.
Granted, the new words he's been using tend to be in English. He must have picked them up in daycare (and frankly half the time English words are easier and shorter to pronounce than the Croatian ones).
He's also started to say "guyshzh, guyshzh" when he wants to say something to us. It's really cute, especially since he adds the "sh" sound to "guys."
Even Ms. Azi in daycare commented yesterday that he's really beginning to speak.
Two weekends ago I made mini muffins. He went crazy over them, standing by the stove, yelling "ma, ma" for muffins when he wanted more. I wonder if I make muffins again this weekend whether he'll be able to say "muffin."
Every new day, well actually every time he wakes up from a nap, he seems to be pronouncing new words. He's moved beyond first syllable pronounciation into pronouncing the entire word. So "mo" has become "moon." Meso is meat. He repeated quiche after me on Monday. Nothing else comes to mind right now but I'm literally floored every day by his vocabulary.
I went away for a night over the weekend to see Lucy in Philly. I didn't see him in some 24 hours--from Saturday afternoon until Sunday afternoon. I was shocked how many new words and full word pronounciation he had picked up in that time period.
Granted, the new words he's been using tend to be in English. He must have picked them up in daycare (and frankly half the time English words are easier and shorter to pronounce than the Croatian ones).
He's also started to say "guyshzh, guyshzh" when he wants to say something to us. It's really cute, especially since he adds the "sh" sound to "guys."
Even Ms. Azi in daycare commented yesterday that he's really beginning to speak.
Two weekends ago I made mini muffins. He went crazy over them, standing by the stove, yelling "ma, ma" for muffins when he wanted more. I wonder if I make muffins again this weekend whether he'll be able to say "muffin."
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