"Wosa put me in time out," Ivan has told Andy on a few occasions over the last few days when he picks him up from daycare.
But then he wouldn't provide any more information as to what he was doing that Ms. Rosa would need to put him in time out for.
So, finally Andy asked Ms. Rosa. She was surprised. She's never put Ivan in time out--he's alwasy such an easy and agreeable boy, which we knew.
She doesn't even have a time out, but rather a thinking chair, where she puts kids to reflect on what they've done. And apparently, Ivan sometimes voluntarily goes to sit with the child put in the thinking chair to keep him company.
Andy and I cracked up.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Ivan's vocabulary
Over the last few months, I've jotted down some Ivanisms. While he's speech is getting better each day, and by now he speaks is full sentences, he still misprounces some words, etc.
So some highlights of the last few months include:
"We did it!" is his favorite exclamation, when he "helps" me do something.
"This gozings here" with gozings meaning going.
"That one don't works-king."
"I groped it," or "that groped" where "groped" stands "to knot" for the Croatian zagropat."
"I suck," for I'm stuck.
"Elibody," for everybody.
Zlicle.
"Nozes," which is adding English plural knives to the Croatian word for knife.
"Kremas" and "Kusingz," again adding the English plural to Croatian words for cream and pillow.
Examples of some recent conversations and observations:
"Where house going?" Ivan asked as after spinning around and making himself
dizzy.
Ivan: "Christmas. Buy new one,"
Andy: "Buy new one what, Ivan?"
Ivan: "Christmas. We need one. Dadda and II buy new Christmas."
"Need to keep the door closed zo that bunnies don't want to come in."
"Don't get me cold," after giving him a bath.
"I don't know who did dat."
And finally:
Nothing. Until a few months, when we'd ask him where he is and what he is doing, he'd respond with "I'm here." Then sometime in December, the response changed to "nothing." And now, the nothing has become a rather assertive and spirited "NOTHing."
So now we know when he says NOTHing, that he's up to something.
So some highlights of the last few months include:
"We did it!" is his favorite exclamation, when he "helps" me do something.
"This gozings here" with gozings meaning going.
"That one don't works-king."
"I groped it," or "that groped" where "groped" stands "to knot" for the Croatian zagropat."
"I suck," for I'm stuck.
"Elibody," for everybody.
Zlicle.
"Nozes," which is adding English plural knives to the Croatian word for knife.
"Kremas" and "Kusingz," again adding the English plural to Croatian words for cream and pillow.
Examples of some recent conversations and observations:
"Where house going?" Ivan asked as after spinning around and making himself
dizzy.
Ivan: "Christmas. Buy new one,"
Andy: "Buy new one what, Ivan?"
Ivan: "Christmas. We need one. Dadda and II buy new Christmas."
"Need to keep the door closed zo that bunnies don't want to come in."
"Don't get me cold," after giving him a bath.
"I don't know who did dat."
And finally:
Nothing. Until a few months, when we'd ask him where he is and what he is doing, he'd respond with "I'm here." Then sometime in December, the response changed to "nothing." And now, the nothing has become a rather assertive and spirited "NOTHing."
So now we know when he says NOTHing, that he's up to something.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Muffin Making, Egg Dyeing, etc.
On Thursday night Ivan refused to go to bed but insisted that we make muffins. After I gave him a muffin tin to line with cupcake holders, we somehow managed to get him to go to sleep. When he woke up in the morning, muffins were still on his mind.
So we made muffins. It was really fun. He helped me crack and beat two eggs. Then we got the sugar and flour out. He was curious how come they look similar. We each had a spoon, we played a game where I spooned out 3 spoons of flour into the measuring cup, then he spooned 3 spoons. Then I did 2 spoons, then he did 2 spoons, etc. I alternated the number of scoops each time. So the measuring became a counting exercise. As I was pouring batter into the muffin tin, Ivan insisted that we need to add jam. (We did that last time we made muffins. We first put some batter, then added a dollop of jam--which he helped me do--then added more batter.) But since this time, I added frozen berries to the batter, there was no need for jam. It took him a while to accept that.
Since I had run out of big cupcake paper cups but still had plenty of mini ones, we made both big and small muffins. He spent the rest of the weekend, talking about big and small muffins, counting them, and doling them out to Andy, my parents and myself. Again, it turned out to be quite a cool little counting, and even adding, exercise.
When the muffins were done, he helped himself to several muffins (with the help of the little red chair, which he used to climb on to reach the muffins that were pushed far on the countertop). He didn't eat them, but basically picked bits of the tops off. I know from before that he doesn't seem to like fruit in the muffins, so I assume he must have thought that the darker spots on the muffin tops were chocolate chips not fruit. (The last time we made muffins, in addition to adding a dollop of jam, we put milk and white chocolate chips on top. It was my impromptu way of trying to prolong the muffin-making with him.) He didn't any of the muffins. We, adults, ate them all. (Really, I ate most of them.)
After muffins were done, Lisa, Sam and Lilian came over for an impromptu playdate. As soon as they arrived, Ivan went to get out his Thomas set, since that was what they played with last time. This time, however, the boys played with cars. Sam apparently likes to line things up, just like Ivan, so they got along very well. And the cars were well lined up in one straight line.
Then we dyed eggs for Easter. I had bought some bright, neon food coloring, and a dozen eggs. White eggs, unlike last year when I wasn't thinking and got brown eggs.
We mixed the dye and dunk the eggs in. We made some 9 eggs or so. Sam was more interested in waiting for the eggs to dye than Ivan, but that was OK. Later in the day, after Sam and Lisa left, and Ivan and my dad, who had come to visit, bought another dozen eggs, Ivan and I dyed another 6 eggs. He was really into it this time, helping to immerse the eggs, take them out, check on them drying, etc.
We also cut and tore tissue paper to place in a basket I had bought for the eggs.
I was so pleased. We had a great, activity-filled day.
Ivan kept talking about Easter Bunnies, and big and small Easter Bunny, saying that he's here, etc.... I tried to take advantage of the bunny arrival by saying that unless we all eat carrots that the bunny won't come. So Ivan and my dad bought baby carrot and hummus (since that was how I unsuccessfully tried to get him to eat carrots in the past), but he wouldn't have any.
The rest of the weekend included a swim class I took him to and an overnight stay at my parents' house. (After my parents' picked him up yesterday, Andy and I went on the trail with Mariposa and Allen in tow. Having an Ivan-free night felt like we were on vacation. It was peaceful and quiet, except for Allen's falling asleep cry.)Today, we went to soccer and then out to dinner to Macaroni Grill.
When we returned home, I noticed a few colored specs on the dining room carpet: While we were out, Mariposa ate all the eggs, shells included. Andy and I are rather expectantly waiting for that poop tomorrow morning. I wonder whether it will come out with pink, purple and green specs in it.
Since she got a hold of chocolate for Halloween, and is ocassionally known to devour a bunch of bananas (eating the banana but leaving the peel), we're so careful not to leave food out. Unfortunately, it didn't occur to either one of us that the Easter eggs are just that: food.
So we made muffins. It was really fun. He helped me crack and beat two eggs. Then we got the sugar and flour out. He was curious how come they look similar. We each had a spoon, we played a game where I spooned out 3 spoons of flour into the measuring cup, then he spooned 3 spoons. Then I did 2 spoons, then he did 2 spoons, etc. I alternated the number of scoops each time. So the measuring became a counting exercise. As I was pouring batter into the muffin tin, Ivan insisted that we need to add jam. (We did that last time we made muffins. We first put some batter, then added a dollop of jam--which he helped me do--then added more batter.) But since this time, I added frozen berries to the batter, there was no need for jam. It took him a while to accept that.
Since I had run out of big cupcake paper cups but still had plenty of mini ones, we made both big and small muffins. He spent the rest of the weekend, talking about big and small muffins, counting them, and doling them out to Andy, my parents and myself. Again, it turned out to be quite a cool little counting, and even adding, exercise.
When the muffins were done, he helped himself to several muffins (with the help of the little red chair, which he used to climb on to reach the muffins that were pushed far on the countertop). He didn't eat them, but basically picked bits of the tops off. I know from before that he doesn't seem to like fruit in the muffins, so I assume he must have thought that the darker spots on the muffin tops were chocolate chips not fruit. (The last time we made muffins, in addition to adding a dollop of jam, we put milk and white chocolate chips on top. It was my impromptu way of trying to prolong the muffin-making with him.) He didn't any of the muffins. We, adults, ate them all. (Really, I ate most of them.)
After muffins were done, Lisa, Sam and Lilian came over for an impromptu playdate. As soon as they arrived, Ivan went to get out his Thomas set, since that was what they played with last time. This time, however, the boys played with cars. Sam apparently likes to line things up, just like Ivan, so they got along very well. And the cars were well lined up in one straight line.
Then we dyed eggs for Easter. I had bought some bright, neon food coloring, and a dozen eggs. White eggs, unlike last year when I wasn't thinking and got brown eggs.
We mixed the dye and dunk the eggs in. We made some 9 eggs or so. Sam was more interested in waiting for the eggs to dye than Ivan, but that was OK. Later in the day, after Sam and Lisa left, and Ivan and my dad, who had come to visit, bought another dozen eggs, Ivan and I dyed another 6 eggs. He was really into it this time, helping to immerse the eggs, take them out, check on them drying, etc.
We also cut and tore tissue paper to place in a basket I had bought for the eggs.
I was so pleased. We had a great, activity-filled day.
Ivan kept talking about Easter Bunnies, and big and small Easter Bunny, saying that he's here, etc.... I tried to take advantage of the bunny arrival by saying that unless we all eat carrots that the bunny won't come. So Ivan and my dad bought baby carrot and hummus (since that was how I unsuccessfully tried to get him to eat carrots in the past), but he wouldn't have any.
The rest of the weekend included a swim class I took him to and an overnight stay at my parents' house. (After my parents' picked him up yesterday, Andy and I went on the trail with Mariposa and Allen in tow. Having an Ivan-free night felt like we were on vacation. It was peaceful and quiet, except for Allen's falling asleep cry.)Today, we went to soccer and then out to dinner to Macaroni Grill.
When we returned home, I noticed a few colored specs on the dining room carpet: While we were out, Mariposa ate all the eggs, shells included. Andy and I are rather expectantly waiting for that poop tomorrow morning. I wonder whether it will come out with pink, purple and green specs in it.
Since she got a hold of chocolate for Halloween, and is ocassionally known to devour a bunch of bananas (eating the banana but leaving the peel), we're so careful not to leave food out. Unfortunately, it didn't occur to either one of us that the Easter eggs are just that: food.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Balloon Popping
I went to daycare today to watch the kids perform what they learned in their music class with Mr. Dave (even though Ivan didn’t want to take part in it, but that’s a different post).
After the performance and the snack, some kids went home, while a few remained.
Isabella and Margaret wanted two balloons that were on their cubbies. One of the balloons was actually Ivan’s but I didn’t know that. It was on his cubby, but he didn’t express interest in it until the girls wanted to play with them. He was busy washing dishes and cooking food. (He kept washing dishes and cooking food for almost one hour. I even had to sit down in a chair he told me to sit in so he could serve me food. I couldn’t convince him to go home—neither the two minute heads up, nor the counting worked. Finally, I started walking out and he followed me.)
Isabella got his balloon and started playing with it. He turned to her several times and told her very seriously and determinately, “Don’t pop my balloon.”
Of course, Isabella eventually popped the balloon. Ivan started crying and dissolved into a meltdown. Isabella then started crying, and ran to sit in the “thinking chair,” in other words, the time out. Ms. Norma, luckily, had another balloon, which she blew up for Ivan. I went to console Isabella, explaining that it wasn’t her fault that the balloon popped, that she didn’t do it on purpose.
“They always cry, when they sit there,” this deep voice appeared out of nowhere, pointing to Isabella with a plastic saw. It was Creighton. He was so serious. His demeanor reminded me of those 1940 detective flicks. It cracked me up.
Everything calmed down. Ivan was back washing dishes and cooking, and absolutely not paying attention to the second balloon Ms. Norma gave him. A few minutes later, Alina, Erica’s younger sister who’s two, got a hold of his balloon. He told her to be careful not to pop it. She popped it. Ivan melted down. Erica went to scold Alina and told her she needs to go to time out. But she didn’t. Ms. Norma came to the rescue with yet another balloon for Ivan. This was the last balloon she had, so once it was blown, I put it on Ivan’s cubby. He continued cooking.
A few minutes later, Isabella started playing with her balloon. She and I started tossing the balloon back and forth. She eventually popped it. Meanwhile, Ivan continued to cook.
After the performance and the snack, some kids went home, while a few remained.
Isabella and Margaret wanted two balloons that were on their cubbies. One of the balloons was actually Ivan’s but I didn’t know that. It was on his cubby, but he didn’t express interest in it until the girls wanted to play with them. He was busy washing dishes and cooking food. (He kept washing dishes and cooking food for almost one hour. I even had to sit down in a chair he told me to sit in so he could serve me food. I couldn’t convince him to go home—neither the two minute heads up, nor the counting worked. Finally, I started walking out and he followed me.)
Isabella got his balloon and started playing with it. He turned to her several times and told her very seriously and determinately, “Don’t pop my balloon.”
Of course, Isabella eventually popped the balloon. Ivan started crying and dissolved into a meltdown. Isabella then started crying, and ran to sit in the “thinking chair,” in other words, the time out. Ms. Norma, luckily, had another balloon, which she blew up for Ivan. I went to console Isabella, explaining that it wasn’t her fault that the balloon popped, that she didn’t do it on purpose.
“They always cry, when they sit there,” this deep voice appeared out of nowhere, pointing to Isabella with a plastic saw. It was Creighton. He was so serious. His demeanor reminded me of those 1940 detective flicks. It cracked me up.
Everything calmed down. Ivan was back washing dishes and cooking, and absolutely not paying attention to the second balloon Ms. Norma gave him. A few minutes later, Alina, Erica’s younger sister who’s two, got a hold of his balloon. He told her to be careful not to pop it. She popped it. Ivan melted down. Erica went to scold Alina and told her she needs to go to time out. But she didn’t. Ms. Norma came to the rescue with yet another balloon for Ivan. This was the last balloon she had, so once it was blown, I put it on Ivan’s cubby. He continued cooking.
A few minutes later, Isabella started playing with her balloon. She and I started tossing the balloon back and forth. She eventually popped it. Meanwhile, Ivan continued to cook.
Allen: Three Months Old
Allen turned three months four days ago. He’s grown so much and is so chubby and plump that I no longer recognize the newborn he was. (Luckily, there are plenty of pictures to remind me.)
In the last two weeks or so, he’s discovered his hands. Now, a couple of fingers are constantly in his mouth. Not one finger, but three or four. I tease him that they must be really tasty.
He’s also starting to reach for things. If I put my hand in front of him, he’ll try to grab my fingers with his hand. He isn’t always successful, but it’s a start.
He’s also very communicative and engaging. He hates to be put down in a car seat, on the floor, in the swing but prefers to be held, talked to or walked around so he can see things. (Although lately, he's trying to talk to the plastic animals that are attached his swing.) And as all babies, he's very alert and intersted in his surroundings.
“The stock smile,” Andy says. When someone picks him up or starts cooing at him, he grins into this exuberant smile. It would be one of those Hollywood, toothy smiles, if he had any teeth.
Also, knock on wood, I shouldn't admit to this out loud,he has been sleeping through the night. I nurse him around 10-11 p.m., he sleeps until 4 a.m. or so, I nurse him again, and then he’s out until 8 a.m. Not bad for a three month old.
He also seems to be getting into the two naps per day schedule. I can’t remember when Ivan got on that schedule. It’s sad how some of these early milestones that as a mom you think you’d remember for ever so quickly get forgotten. Or some things are so fluid and barely perceptible on a daily basis that it’s really hard to pinpoint when did something happen.
That’s why I’m writing down all these blog/diary entries. In order not to forget.
In the last two weeks or so, he’s discovered his hands. Now, a couple of fingers are constantly in his mouth. Not one finger, but three or four. I tease him that they must be really tasty.
He’s also starting to reach for things. If I put my hand in front of him, he’ll try to grab my fingers with his hand. He isn’t always successful, but it’s a start.
He’s also very communicative and engaging. He hates to be put down in a car seat, on the floor, in the swing but prefers to be held, talked to or walked around so he can see things. (Although lately, he's trying to talk to the plastic animals that are attached his swing.) And as all babies, he's very alert and intersted in his surroundings.
“The stock smile,” Andy says. When someone picks him up or starts cooing at him, he grins into this exuberant smile. It would be one of those Hollywood, toothy smiles, if he had any teeth.
Also, knock on wood, I shouldn't admit to this out loud,he has been sleeping through the night. I nurse him around 10-11 p.m., he sleeps until 4 a.m. or so, I nurse him again, and then he’s out until 8 a.m. Not bad for a three month old.
He also seems to be getting into the two naps per day schedule. I can’t remember when Ivan got on that schedule. It’s sad how some of these early milestones that as a mom you think you’d remember for ever so quickly get forgotten. Or some things are so fluid and barely perceptible on a daily basis that it’s really hard to pinpoint when did something happen.
That’s why I’m writing down all these blog/diary entries. In order not to forget.
Pre-school dilemma
By tomorrow, we need to make a big decision about Ivan’s pre-school.
One of the only prescient things I had done shortly after he was born was to put him on the waiting list for Maryland’s pre-school. This was done long before we thought of any practical daycare issues and long before I looked for daycare and enrolled him in one.
He got into Maryland’s pre-school, and we need to let them know by tomorrow whether he’ll be attending in the fall or not. And now we’re having second thoughts of what to do—whether to enroll him in this pre-school for the next two years or keep him in the daycare, which will function as pre-school as well. The situation is no longer as simple and clear cut as it was when I sent in my deposit to waitlist him two years ago. Maryland’s facility is beautiful—well staffed, well equipped, etc…
They’ve got money and they’ve got their act in order. (They’ve also been around much longer than our current daycare which is three years old.) It’s also top of the line--it’s affiliated with the school of education and it’s NYAC-accredited—and no doubt that the level of instruction Ivan would receive would be superior than at our current daycare. But it’s also much bigger. There are four classrooms composed of 18 kids, with two teachers and an aide.
Our daycare is much smaller (maybe 30 kids total), more shabby, and probably more disorganized, and less structured and formal. But all the women working there are nice and nurturing. They all seem to love Ivan. It’s like a small family.
When I went to daycare today, I realized that they have the same types of stations set up around the room as Maryland does: science, dramatic play, art, etc. but it’s not as well delineated and glitzy.
The problem is that the four-five year-old classroom doesn’t exist yet because the oldest children, Isabella, Emma and Creighton, are about to turn four this summer. So the three and four year olds are grouped together. There is a plan to establish a fourfive year-old classroom, but it would be in the basement, an idea that I don’t like. I’m not really fond of basements, especially in old buildings. Also, I don’t know who the teacher would be. (I forgot to ask Ms. Claudette.)
In the meantime, according to Ms. Claudette, Ms. Rosa, the current three-four year-old classroom teacher, works on different things with older kids than with younger kids to make sure all get ready for school.
Another issue is finances and logistics. Maryland’s daycare actually ends up being cheaper when calculated for the 46 weeks that it’s open, including summer camp, than our daycare. But Maryland works on the school schedule, so they’re closed for Christmas/New Year, spring break, and 6 weeks during the summer. All this time off could be a problem (although we’ll eventually have to tackle that issue once Ivan starts elementary school). Our daycare is open year round, save for a week in July.
So I don’t know what to do. Initially, I was for enrolling him at Maryland while Andy was for leaving him at our daycare. Then, after we visited Maryland, we were both on the fence, and now I’m more inclined to leave him at the daycare while Andy is for Maryland.
Then a related issue is Allen. He will start daycare next September, if not sooner, depending on how long my parents can take care of him. That means that Ivan and Allen would overlap for one year at the same facility. It may be nice for both to have each other at the same place, even if they’re in different classrooms.
To sum up, I guess the crux of the question is, what’s more important at this early age: good instruction/education or an intimate, nurturing environment where the child learns to socialize with others? I don’t know.
I hate to give up on the Maryland opportunity since I had been focused on it since Ivan was born. On the other hand, I also feel like we’d be disloyal to our daycare if we pull him out.
But more importantly, this is about Ivan and creating a good schooling foundation. I don’t know how disruptive it would be to pluck him out of one place to enroll him into the other, which will be much larger. Since he’s so introverted and is much more at ease in small groups or just one-on-one with other kids, I fear that he will have a hard time adjusting among so many new kids.
So what’s more important for a three year-olds development: to be comfortable and confident as he starts his schooling odyssey or be thrown into a situation that I know he’d prefer to shy away from and just learn to sink or swim?
One of the only prescient things I had done shortly after he was born was to put him on the waiting list for Maryland’s pre-school. This was done long before we thought of any practical daycare issues and long before I looked for daycare and enrolled him in one.
He got into Maryland’s pre-school, and we need to let them know by tomorrow whether he’ll be attending in the fall or not. And now we’re having second thoughts of what to do—whether to enroll him in this pre-school for the next two years or keep him in the daycare, which will function as pre-school as well. The situation is no longer as simple and clear cut as it was when I sent in my deposit to waitlist him two years ago. Maryland’s facility is beautiful—well staffed, well equipped, etc…
They’ve got money and they’ve got their act in order. (They’ve also been around much longer than our current daycare which is three years old.) It’s also top of the line--it’s affiliated with the school of education and it’s NYAC-accredited—and no doubt that the level of instruction Ivan would receive would be superior than at our current daycare. But it’s also much bigger. There are four classrooms composed of 18 kids, with two teachers and an aide.
Our daycare is much smaller (maybe 30 kids total), more shabby, and probably more disorganized, and less structured and formal. But all the women working there are nice and nurturing. They all seem to love Ivan. It’s like a small family.
When I went to daycare today, I realized that they have the same types of stations set up around the room as Maryland does: science, dramatic play, art, etc. but it’s not as well delineated and glitzy.
The problem is that the four-five year-old classroom doesn’t exist yet because the oldest children, Isabella, Emma and Creighton, are about to turn four this summer. So the three and four year olds are grouped together. There is a plan to establish a fourfive year-old classroom, but it would be in the basement, an idea that I don’t like. I’m not really fond of basements, especially in old buildings. Also, I don’t know who the teacher would be. (I forgot to ask Ms. Claudette.)
In the meantime, according to Ms. Claudette, Ms. Rosa, the current three-four year-old classroom teacher, works on different things with older kids than with younger kids to make sure all get ready for school.
Another issue is finances and logistics. Maryland’s daycare actually ends up being cheaper when calculated for the 46 weeks that it’s open, including summer camp, than our daycare. But Maryland works on the school schedule, so they’re closed for Christmas/New Year, spring break, and 6 weeks during the summer. All this time off could be a problem (although we’ll eventually have to tackle that issue once Ivan starts elementary school). Our daycare is open year round, save for a week in July.
So I don’t know what to do. Initially, I was for enrolling him at Maryland while Andy was for leaving him at our daycare. Then, after we visited Maryland, we were both on the fence, and now I’m more inclined to leave him at the daycare while Andy is for Maryland.
Then a related issue is Allen. He will start daycare next September, if not sooner, depending on how long my parents can take care of him. That means that Ivan and Allen would overlap for one year at the same facility. It may be nice for both to have each other at the same place, even if they’re in different classrooms.
To sum up, I guess the crux of the question is, what’s more important at this early age: good instruction/education or an intimate, nurturing environment where the child learns to socialize with others? I don’t know.
I hate to give up on the Maryland opportunity since I had been focused on it since Ivan was born. On the other hand, I also feel like we’d be disloyal to our daycare if we pull him out.
But more importantly, this is about Ivan and creating a good schooling foundation. I don’t know how disruptive it would be to pluck him out of one place to enroll him into the other, which will be much larger. Since he’s so introverted and is much more at ease in small groups or just one-on-one with other kids, I fear that he will have a hard time adjusting among so many new kids.
So what’s more important for a three year-olds development: to be comfortable and confident as he starts his schooling odyssey or be thrown into a situation that I know he’d prefer to shy away from and just learn to sink or swim?
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Drowning in Baby Clothes
Although I'm still home and in theory have a lot of time on my hands to organize stuff, there are things I just can't seem to get a hold on. Like kids clothes. Not the laundry part. That's relatively easy, if a continuously ongoing task with a poopy three month-old and a messy three year-old. It's all the other stuff.
With Ivan's clothes, I'm never prepared to welcome the next season. Unlike some moms who apparently buy last year's clothes on sale for the upcoming year, I've been reluctant to do that because I can never gage what size Ivan will be when the time to wear those clothes arrive. My strategy is to wait until the weather begins to change and then go shopping. Except I'm never prepared; or alternatively, the weather here changes so abruptly that there are always a few days when I have nothing for Ivan to wear. It happened last fall, when the weather got abruptly cold and it was time to don a coat and long pants. Ivan didn't have either, and the clothes from the previous winter were too small. So one night I had to go on a binge shopping to the usual stores: Old Navy and Target.
The same thing happened again this past weekend, when the temperature climbed to the low 70s. Ivan had neither shorts, nor long non-fleece lined pants. (Luckily he had a T-shirt or two.) I knew that spring was around the corner and that I should've gone clothes shopping sooner, but since it had been so frigid for so long, I lulled myself into thinking that I had more time. So earlier this week, I trekked to Old Navy and Target to stock up on spring-wear.
And I'm not that picky with toddler clothes, but sometimes the stores just don't have what I'm looking for. For example, Old Navy didn't have any long (non-fleeced lined) cotton pants that I wanted, or anything other than jeans. Neither did Target, which had kakhy-type pants with the real buttoned waist as opposed to elastic waist. (I think that elastic waist is more comfortable for Ivan so I prefer to buy pants with those. "Real waist" pants seem to pull down his pull ups and slide of down his legs, which I'm sure isn't as comfortable for running and moving around.) The following night, I went to Kohl's, where, bingo, I found the loot I was after. And I stocked up.
And every time I go to look for boys' clothes, I'm stunned, and pissed off, that even at such young age, there is a dearth of boy clothes, compared to the abundance of girls clothes.
Then there is the issue of ongoing cycle of putting away last season's clothes or those that he's outgrown. Most I'm saving for Allen, while the dud pieces I never wore on Ivan, I try to stash in the ever-growing give-away pile.
Related to this is the issue of clothes received as gifts. Some are too small or I find them hideous and know that I'll never have him wear, so they go in the exchange pile, if there is a receipt, or the give-away pile.
With Allen's clothes, it's even worse. First, I was and continue to be stunned by the generosity of Andy's family and our other random friends, acquitances or colleagues, who have gifted us so much new clothes for Allen. Most of it, unfortunately, we didn't need as Allen can wear a lot of Ivan's clothes since they were born in the same season. So I have piles of new baby clothes (sizes 0 to 12 months) from which I didn't even take the tags off. Some I was able to exchange; most, however, I can't because I have no clue where or when it was purchased.
Even worse, some of the clothes that I do need but don't like the versions we got--like the one-piece suits that zip up down one leg instead of button down both legs-- I'm guilted into using. Since the life-cycle of baby clothes is so short, it's easier to deal with the annoying zippering than go out to buy other suits I'd prefer.
Then there is putting away the clothes that Allen's already outgrown and pulling out next size clothes. Considering that we (probably) won't have another child, there is really no reason to stow away Allen's outgrown clothes; I could give them away. Except that I'm not ready. I'm attached to those newborn suits and onesies that both Ivan and Allen lived in for the first few weeks of their lives.
So all in all, I'm continuously creating piles: clothes to give away, clothes to return, clothes stow away, clothes to wash, etc...
With Ivan's clothes, I'm never prepared to welcome the next season. Unlike some moms who apparently buy last year's clothes on sale for the upcoming year, I've been reluctant to do that because I can never gage what size Ivan will be when the time to wear those clothes arrive. My strategy is to wait until the weather begins to change and then go shopping. Except I'm never prepared; or alternatively, the weather here changes so abruptly that there are always a few days when I have nothing for Ivan to wear. It happened last fall, when the weather got abruptly cold and it was time to don a coat and long pants. Ivan didn't have either, and the clothes from the previous winter were too small. So one night I had to go on a binge shopping to the usual stores: Old Navy and Target.
The same thing happened again this past weekend, when the temperature climbed to the low 70s. Ivan had neither shorts, nor long non-fleece lined pants. (Luckily he had a T-shirt or two.) I knew that spring was around the corner and that I should've gone clothes shopping sooner, but since it had been so frigid for so long, I lulled myself into thinking that I had more time. So earlier this week, I trekked to Old Navy and Target to stock up on spring-wear.
And I'm not that picky with toddler clothes, but sometimes the stores just don't have what I'm looking for. For example, Old Navy didn't have any long (non-fleeced lined) cotton pants that I wanted, or anything other than jeans. Neither did Target, which had kakhy-type pants with the real buttoned waist as opposed to elastic waist. (I think that elastic waist is more comfortable for Ivan so I prefer to buy pants with those. "Real waist" pants seem to pull down his pull ups and slide of down his legs, which I'm sure isn't as comfortable for running and moving around.) The following night, I went to Kohl's, where, bingo, I found the loot I was after. And I stocked up.
And every time I go to look for boys' clothes, I'm stunned, and pissed off, that even at such young age, there is a dearth of boy clothes, compared to the abundance of girls clothes.
Then there is the issue of ongoing cycle of putting away last season's clothes or those that he's outgrown. Most I'm saving for Allen, while the dud pieces I never wore on Ivan, I try to stash in the ever-growing give-away pile.
Related to this is the issue of clothes received as gifts. Some are too small or I find them hideous and know that I'll never have him wear, so they go in the exchange pile, if there is a receipt, or the give-away pile.
With Allen's clothes, it's even worse. First, I was and continue to be stunned by the generosity of Andy's family and our other random friends, acquitances or colleagues, who have gifted us so much new clothes for Allen. Most of it, unfortunately, we didn't need as Allen can wear a lot of Ivan's clothes since they were born in the same season. So I have piles of new baby clothes (sizes 0 to 12 months) from which I didn't even take the tags off. Some I was able to exchange; most, however, I can't because I have no clue where or when it was purchased.
Even worse, some of the clothes that I do need but don't like the versions we got--like the one-piece suits that zip up down one leg instead of button down both legs-- I'm guilted into using. Since the life-cycle of baby clothes is so short, it's easier to deal with the annoying zippering than go out to buy other suits I'd prefer.
Then there is putting away the clothes that Allen's already outgrown and pulling out next size clothes. Considering that we (probably) won't have another child, there is really no reason to stow away Allen's outgrown clothes; I could give them away. Except that I'm not ready. I'm attached to those newborn suits and onesies that both Ivan and Allen lived in for the first few weeks of their lives.
So all in all, I'm continuously creating piles: clothes to give away, clothes to return, clothes stow away, clothes to wash, etc...
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Ivan at Air and Space Museum
Following the perfect and beatiful weekend, today (Monday) it rained, rather heavily. Andy stayed home today. After visiting UMCP's pre-school (more on that later), we debated what to do and where to go so Ivan could run around (there are only so many times we can take him to Ikea), and eventually ended up driving to Smithsonian's Udvar-Hazy Museum near Dulles.
Ivan loved it. He ran from one exhibit to the next. He was also fascinated by the planes, rockets, etc. And there was ample room to run around.
As we were getting out of the car, he took the kaleidoscope out of the car to take along. I bought him the kaleidoscope last Easter. He never really showed much interested in it until he eventually took it apart and broke it. The kaleidoscope has been sitting in the car for months now and he never took it out of the car, until today.
In the museum, he kept putting the kaleidoscope to his eyes to look through it, using it as one would use binoculars.
Andy and I were cracking up. We have no clue where he got that idea. Certainly not from us.
Ivan loved it. He ran from one exhibit to the next. He was also fascinated by the planes, rockets, etc. And there was ample room to run around.
As we were getting out of the car, he took the kaleidoscope out of the car to take along. I bought him the kaleidoscope last Easter. He never really showed much interested in it until he eventually took it apart and broke it. The kaleidoscope has been sitting in the car for months now and he never took it out of the car, until today.
In the museum, he kept putting the kaleidoscope to his eyes to look through it, using it as one would use binoculars.
Andy and I were cracking up. We have no clue where he got that idea. Certainly not from us.
The Perfect Weekend
This past weekend turned out to be the perfect family weekend, especially Saturday when we dared to take everyone along (including Mariposa) to enjoy the perfect sunny, 75 degrees spring day.
The night before Andy and I actually pondered where we could go so that on Saturday we could just jump out of bed and get going, instead of twirling our hair and coming up with last minute suggestions.
We went to a huge park, Quiet Waters Park near Annapolis. The park was beautiful. Miles of trails and meadows, etc., and most importantly a trail along the coast, which included a dog beach.
Our plan was to go to the beach and be near the water, so a dog beach was a perfect solution as it meant that Mariposa could come along as well. It turned out that most of the dog beach was eroded during the winter weather, but that still didn't stop dogs and dog owners from crowding the narrow beach edges that were still there (until two park rangers came along and booted everyone off the sand).
I baby-bjorned Allen along, while Ivan, Mariposa and Andy ran and raced in front of us on the trails. Ivan did fall down and seriously scuffed his knees and ended up with a huge bruise when he fell down on the trail, but nothing serious. Falls and bruises happen. He actually needed a flaster for a real bubu.
Mariposa had a great time on the dog beach, with other dogs, including another female basset hound, and barking. Once she started barking, everyone got a kick out of it, as everyone is always startled to hear how deep and loud her bark is.
We then went to a dog park as well. The dog park was divided into a big and little dog area. We visited both. Mariposa preferred the little dog area. The big dog area freaked her out a bit and she stood by Andy's side (although this was nothing compared to that time we took her to Wheaton dog park, where she was absolutely scared.)
It was a successful park outing where everyone behaved, we went to get lunch. The idea was to go to Annapolis and sit outside. Our lucky stars must have been shining on us because as we exited the park, we basically stumbled on these signs for a waterfront restaurant. We followed the signed into this chi-chi condo development built around a marina. And there was the restaurant, at the marina. It was about 2:30, and the place was quite empty, which was good because as I looked at us I realized that we must have been a restaurant's worst nightmare of a patron: a young family with a three year and three month old and a dog.
We sat outside, near the water and the boats and ordered food. Everyone still behaved. Allen, who slept in the park in the babybjorn, woke up and was quietly looking around, Ivan behaved and ate his pizza, and Mariposa quietly laid under Andy's chair. Everything was perfect, until the very end when Allen started fussing because he was hungry, Ivan got fidgety from sitting down and Mariposa wanted to sniff things. Still we managed to leave on a relatively high note.
On Sunday, we went to Seger and Mateo's birthday party at Candy Cane playground. The party featured The Great Zucchini, the area's most renowned kids performer. I was really excited to see him perform (because of the WP profile a few years back). I expected to see a theatrical guy dressed in flamboyant clothing, but the Zucchini was basically a middle-aged frat guy, wearing a white T-shirt and non-descript shorts. But he had the three year-old crowd laughing in no time. He totally mastered the speech patterns and thoughts preoccupations of three year-olds. Hey guys, watch this....." he'd say, which is exactly what Ivan says all the time. (Andy thought he was lame, but then Andy is not his audience.)
In the afternoon, Andy took Ivan to his first soccer practice. Since it was an Andy/Ivan activity, they didn't want me along. So instead, I had friends over. Mariposa spent the afternoon on the porch, barking at things.
The night before Andy and I actually pondered where we could go so that on Saturday we could just jump out of bed and get going, instead of twirling our hair and coming up with last minute suggestions.
We went to a huge park, Quiet Waters Park near Annapolis. The park was beautiful. Miles of trails and meadows, etc., and most importantly a trail along the coast, which included a dog beach.
Our plan was to go to the beach and be near the water, so a dog beach was a perfect solution as it meant that Mariposa could come along as well. It turned out that most of the dog beach was eroded during the winter weather, but that still didn't stop dogs and dog owners from crowding the narrow beach edges that were still there (until two park rangers came along and booted everyone off the sand).
I baby-bjorned Allen along, while Ivan, Mariposa and Andy ran and raced in front of us on the trails. Ivan did fall down and seriously scuffed his knees and ended up with a huge bruise when he fell down on the trail, but nothing serious. Falls and bruises happen. He actually needed a flaster for a real bubu.
Mariposa had a great time on the dog beach, with other dogs, including another female basset hound, and barking. Once she started barking, everyone got a kick out of it, as everyone is always startled to hear how deep and loud her bark is.
We then went to a dog park as well. The dog park was divided into a big and little dog area. We visited both. Mariposa preferred the little dog area. The big dog area freaked her out a bit and she stood by Andy's side (although this was nothing compared to that time we took her to Wheaton dog park, where she was absolutely scared.)
It was a successful park outing where everyone behaved, we went to get lunch. The idea was to go to Annapolis and sit outside. Our lucky stars must have been shining on us because as we exited the park, we basically stumbled on these signs for a waterfront restaurant. We followed the signed into this chi-chi condo development built around a marina. And there was the restaurant, at the marina. It was about 2:30, and the place was quite empty, which was good because as I looked at us I realized that we must have been a restaurant's worst nightmare of a patron: a young family with a three year and three month old and a dog.
We sat outside, near the water and the boats and ordered food. Everyone still behaved. Allen, who slept in the park in the babybjorn, woke up and was quietly looking around, Ivan behaved and ate his pizza, and Mariposa quietly laid under Andy's chair. Everything was perfect, until the very end when Allen started fussing because he was hungry, Ivan got fidgety from sitting down and Mariposa wanted to sniff things. Still we managed to leave on a relatively high note.
On Sunday, we went to Seger and Mateo's birthday party at Candy Cane playground. The party featured The Great Zucchini, the area's most renowned kids performer. I was really excited to see him perform (because of the WP profile a few years back). I expected to see a theatrical guy dressed in flamboyant clothing, but the Zucchini was basically a middle-aged frat guy, wearing a white T-shirt and non-descript shorts. But he had the three year-old crowd laughing in no time. He totally mastered the speech patterns and thoughts preoccupations of three year-olds. Hey guys, watch this....." he'd say, which is exactly what Ivan says all the time. (Andy thought he was lame, but then Andy is not his audience.)
In the afternoon, Andy took Ivan to his first soccer practice. Since it was an Andy/Ivan activity, they didn't want me along. So instead, I had friends over. Mariposa spent the afternoon on the porch, barking at things.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Back from Grandma's
Ivan lasted until Thursday at Andy's parents' house. Once we picked him up, the consensus, from both his parents and him, was that having him stay until Tuesday would've been better.
As Andy's parents said, Ivan did well and had a great time but it was getting obvious he was beginning to miss us, especially at bath and bed time.
On Wednesday I had called and talked to Andy's mom. She told Ivan that I was on the phone. His eyes apparently lit up and he wanted to talk to me.
"I want to come home. I don't want to stay here," he told me in perfect, full sentences when he got on the phone and started crying. Andy's mom assured me he hadn't fussed earlier and that that crying ended shortly after when he got distracted playing with something. Still, it broke my heart. I wished we had packed up to go and get him right away but since neither Andy nor his parents suggested that I didn't say much.
He was thrilled when he saw us. All of us when to get him, including Mariposa.
When we went to change his pull ups, he told me again "I don't want to stay here. I want to go home."
I asked him several times since yesterday if he had fun at mimi and papi's house but he wouldn't really answer me. I know he had fun. Andy's mom gave us a detailed account: he played with playdoo , his trucks , played outside , etc . He also put teddy bears and dolls in a toy high chair and used boop (wires) to give them haircuts. The two pronged cellphone charger boop resembles the hair razor.
As Andy's parents said, Ivan did well and had a great time but it was getting obvious he was beginning to miss us, especially at bath and bed time.
On Wednesday I had called and talked to Andy's mom. She told Ivan that I was on the phone. His eyes apparently lit up and he wanted to talk to me.
"I want to come home. I don't want to stay here," he told me in perfect, full sentences when he got on the phone and started crying. Andy's mom assured me he hadn't fussed earlier and that that crying ended shortly after when he got distracted playing with something. Still, it broke my heart. I wished we had packed up to go and get him right away but since neither Andy nor his parents suggested that I didn't say much.
He was thrilled when he saw us. All of us when to get him, including Mariposa.
When we went to change his pull ups, he told me again "I don't want to stay here. I want to go home."
I asked him several times since yesterday if he had fun at mimi and papi's house but he wouldn't really answer me. I know he had fun. Andy's mom gave us a detailed account: he played with playdoo , his trucks , played outside , etc . He also put teddy bears and dolls in a toy high chair and used boop (wires) to give them haircuts. The two pronged cellphone charger boop resembles the hair razor.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
At (other) grandma's
On Sunday afternoon, Andy took Ivan up to his parents' house so Ivan would spend a few days with them. The idea is that he'll stay for a week, although I seriously doubt that he'll last that long without wanting to go home.
Andy drove him up to PA without me. I didn't want to go because I thought Ivan would fuss less when it was our time to leave him, if Andy were alone.
I packed his stuff in the Mickey Mouse suitcase my mom got him--of course, when I told that to my mom, she got upset, like I knew she would, because I have never packed him in the suitcase when he stays over at their house--and put Medic in his backpack.
As they drove away, I waved at him from the window and he waved back. It broke my heart, and I started missing him right away. His departure was as if someone tore a piece of me. He's stayed with my parents before for a few nights, so we've been without him for a few days, but for some reason, this going away felt bigger and was more difficult on me. It was like he was going on a big trip. Maybe it's the distance; unlike my parents who live half an hour away, Andy's parents are one hour and a half away. It's also the fact that it's Andy's parents who are obviously not my parents and to whom I'm not as close as to my parents. But it's mostly the fact that both Andy and I feared that he'd have a hard time being there and that he'd cry to come home.
For the last few months, especially since Allen's arrival, Ivan's been all about mama. He's been more sensitive and clingy to me. Two weeks ago, when he spent the night at my parents' house before his birthday party, he went to bed asking for mama and woke up asking for mama, which is something he had never done before.
But last night in PA, Andy stayed with him until it was bed time, when he changed him in his jammies. Andy's mom then read him books in the bedroom. He went back out to the living room to see Andy, then back to the bedroom for more books and went to bed. Andy left in the meantime.
I had these visions of Andy's parents calling in the middle of the night that Ivan was still awake and crying, and of Andy driving up to York at 3 a.m. to pick him up. But nope. So far, a day later, every seems OK.
According to Andy's mom, he woke up this morning, ate his breakfast, etc. Jessica was staying over, which I'm sure helped.
He did ask about dadda once, to which Andy's mom said, that dadda will come and pick him up but that first he'll play with them a bit. That answer satisfied him.
He did, however, ask about Allen. "Where is my baby Allen," he apparently asked, looking at their pictures on the fridge.
In the morning, they went to visit Paige and her twins, who are the same age. The playdate went OK, although everyone was very quiet. As I told Andy's mom, Ivan usually needs a pre-party party in order to warm up to new kids and surroundings.
For lunch, Jessica wanted beefaroni (whatever that is). Ivan didn't want it, but when he saw Jessy eat it he wanted some too. He ate a whole bowl, and said, "Mama, dadda, be proud of me. Allen, Mariposa be proud of me." because he ate his full lunch.
How endearing (although Andy and I both wondered how does he know the word "proud")
In the afternoon, they played with playdooh, colored, etc..... I last spoke to Andy's mom around 6 p.m. when everything was still fine.
We'll get a new report in the morning. I wonder how it was to put him to bed.
My personal hunch is that he won't be able to stay there the entire week. I give it until Wednesday, when we'll need to go and pick him up. Who knows, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe he won't miss us and will stay longer.
But will I be able to endure not seeing him for that long?
Andy drove him up to PA without me. I didn't want to go because I thought Ivan would fuss less when it was our time to leave him, if Andy were alone.
I packed his stuff in the Mickey Mouse suitcase my mom got him--of course, when I told that to my mom, she got upset, like I knew she would, because I have never packed him in the suitcase when he stays over at their house--and put Medic in his backpack.
As they drove away, I waved at him from the window and he waved back. It broke my heart, and I started missing him right away. His departure was as if someone tore a piece of me. He's stayed with my parents before for a few nights, so we've been without him for a few days, but for some reason, this going away felt bigger and was more difficult on me. It was like he was going on a big trip. Maybe it's the distance; unlike my parents who live half an hour away, Andy's parents are one hour and a half away. It's also the fact that it's Andy's parents who are obviously not my parents and to whom I'm not as close as to my parents. But it's mostly the fact that both Andy and I feared that he'd have a hard time being there and that he'd cry to come home.
For the last few months, especially since Allen's arrival, Ivan's been all about mama. He's been more sensitive and clingy to me. Two weeks ago, when he spent the night at my parents' house before his birthday party, he went to bed asking for mama and woke up asking for mama, which is something he had never done before.
But last night in PA, Andy stayed with him until it was bed time, when he changed him in his jammies. Andy's mom then read him books in the bedroom. He went back out to the living room to see Andy, then back to the bedroom for more books and went to bed. Andy left in the meantime.
I had these visions of Andy's parents calling in the middle of the night that Ivan was still awake and crying, and of Andy driving up to York at 3 a.m. to pick him up. But nope. So far, a day later, every seems OK.
According to Andy's mom, he woke up this morning, ate his breakfast, etc. Jessica was staying over, which I'm sure helped.
He did ask about dadda once, to which Andy's mom said, that dadda will come and pick him up but that first he'll play with them a bit. That answer satisfied him.
He did, however, ask about Allen. "Where is my baby Allen," he apparently asked, looking at their pictures on the fridge.
In the morning, they went to visit Paige and her twins, who are the same age. The playdate went OK, although everyone was very quiet. As I told Andy's mom, Ivan usually needs a pre-party party in order to warm up to new kids and surroundings.
For lunch, Jessica wanted beefaroni (whatever that is). Ivan didn't want it, but when he saw Jessy eat it he wanted some too. He ate a whole bowl, and said, "Mama, dadda, be proud of me. Allen, Mariposa be proud of me." because he ate his full lunch.
How endearing (although Andy and I both wondered how does he know the word "proud")
In the afternoon, they played with playdooh, colored, etc..... I last spoke to Andy's mom around 6 p.m. when everything was still fine.
We'll get a new report in the morning. I wonder how it was to put him to bed.
My personal hunch is that he won't be able to stay there the entire week. I give it until Wednesday, when we'll need to go and pick him up. Who knows, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe he won't miss us and will stay longer.
But will I be able to endure not seeing him for that long?
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Ivan's bunnies
"Mama, mama, don't vacuum the bunnies," Ivan shouted rather concerned from his house a.k.a. the leather couch, as I was starting to vacuum along the edge of the living room carpet, under which bunnies live in cages.
I told him that I won't and that bunnies aren't in the cages now but that they're out.
"Ooh," he said accepting my exlpanation.
A bunny disaster averted.
Since last summer, Ivan's imaginary bunnies slowly have been taking over our house. First, the were outside. Then, they some how moved in. Earlier this year, they started living in cages under the edge of the carpet. Ivan keeps an eye out whether they're asleep or not.
There is also elaborate (imaginary) door opening and closing aimed at keeping the bunnies in or out, depending on the circumstances.
"I need to keep the door closed so that bunnies don't want to come in," he says.
A few weeks ago, they were in the kitchen pooping on the floor. Then a few days later when we were making muffins, bunnies were along the edges of the stove and Ivan took these cooking thongs to get them out.
Then the other day, bunnies were in our bedroom and our closet.
And now today, I had to make sure I didn't vacuum them up.
I told him that I won't and that bunnies aren't in the cages now but that they're out.
"Ooh," he said accepting my exlpanation.
A bunny disaster averted.
Since last summer, Ivan's imaginary bunnies slowly have been taking over our house. First, the were outside. Then, they some how moved in. Earlier this year, they started living in cages under the edge of the carpet. Ivan keeps an eye out whether they're asleep or not.
There is also elaborate (imaginary) door opening and closing aimed at keeping the bunnies in or out, depending on the circumstances.
"I need to keep the door closed so that bunnies don't want to come in," he says.
A few weeks ago, they were in the kitchen pooping on the floor. Then a few days later when we were making muffins, bunnies were along the edges of the stove and Ivan took these cooking thongs to get them out.
Then the other day, bunnies were in our bedroom and our closet.
And now today, I had to make sure I didn't vacuum them up.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Allen vs. Ivan
Even though Allen is not even three months old yet, he is already so different from Ivan, both in appearance and temperament. For many things, I just assume that he will do and behave as Ivan did but it's not true so it constantly surprises me.
Until Ivan started crawling, he was a rather quiet and mellow baby. Allen, however, is much more alert. Allen doesn't like to be in the cart seat when we're at home while Ivan loved it. I basically kept Ivan in the car seat sitting next to me on the table bench until he could crawl. The same thing for the swing. It was our most used and prized possession for the first few months with Ivan. He loved swinging and loved sleeping in it. It really worked well to calm him down and stop him from crying. Allen, on the other hand, isn't so thrilled. It's only been the last few days that he's OK being in the swing for a short period of time. Before that, he's crying would actually intensify as soon as we would put him in. The swing has definitely not been a calming tool, like with Ivan. Yesterday, Allen actually fell asleep in it and slept for a while. Today, however, he spent about one hour in it (a record) as I was hoping that he'd fall asleep. But no, he spent the entire time "talking" to the swing.
Ivan was literally born with a frown, and he kept up that frown for the first year (although the frown would dissolve when he would smile, laugh, giggle and "talk"). Allen, on the other hand, seems to have this surprised, startled expression on his face. Also, overall, he seems to be more startle-y than Ivan was. For example, if he's sleeping even relatively mild noises startle him.
Both of them started "talking" about six weeks or so. But while Ivan's noise repertoire mostly consisted of a "goo" sound, Allen's range of noises seems much wider, although they're predominately variations on the "ahh" sound.
Both of their faces light up when they "talk" and they engage you with their entire face, especially their eyes, but Allen also talks with body. If I recall correctly, Ivan lay mostly still, while Allen's arms and legs are also part of the conversation. He's very eager to communicate.
If these early observations are any indications of what Allen will be like as he gets older, I imagine he'll be a much more physical child than Ivan has been. Unlike Ivan, who's been very cautious on the playground and is definitely not an aggressive, daring, daredevil like some of his peers, I can see Allen becoming one---and be the first one to climb, jump, etc...
But who knows. I may be totally off.
Until Ivan started crawling, he was a rather quiet and mellow baby. Allen, however, is much more alert. Allen doesn't like to be in the cart seat when we're at home while Ivan loved it. I basically kept Ivan in the car seat sitting next to me on the table bench until he could crawl. The same thing for the swing. It was our most used and prized possession for the first few months with Ivan. He loved swinging and loved sleeping in it. It really worked well to calm him down and stop him from crying. Allen, on the other hand, isn't so thrilled. It's only been the last few days that he's OK being in the swing for a short period of time. Before that, he's crying would actually intensify as soon as we would put him in. The swing has definitely not been a calming tool, like with Ivan. Yesterday, Allen actually fell asleep in it and slept for a while. Today, however, he spent about one hour in it (a record) as I was hoping that he'd fall asleep. But no, he spent the entire time "talking" to the swing.
Ivan was literally born with a frown, and he kept up that frown for the first year (although the frown would dissolve when he would smile, laugh, giggle and "talk"). Allen, on the other hand, seems to have this surprised, startled expression on his face. Also, overall, he seems to be more startle-y than Ivan was. For example, if he's sleeping even relatively mild noises startle him.
Both of them started "talking" about six weeks or so. But while Ivan's noise repertoire mostly consisted of a "goo" sound, Allen's range of noises seems much wider, although they're predominately variations on the "ahh" sound.
Both of their faces light up when they "talk" and they engage you with their entire face, especially their eyes, but Allen also talks with body. If I recall correctly, Ivan lay mostly still, while Allen's arms and legs are also part of the conversation. He's very eager to communicate.
If these early observations are any indications of what Allen will be like as he gets older, I imagine he'll be a much more physical child than Ivan has been. Unlike Ivan, who's been very cautious on the playground and is definitely not an aggressive, daring, daredevil like some of his peers, I can see Allen becoming one---and be the first one to climb, jump, etc...
But who knows. I may be totally off.
Allen's Heart
We went for the follow up appointment with the cardiologist today. All looks good. The doctor couldn't hear the murmur on the sthetoscope nor could he see anything on the echogram. So the hole has probably closed. However, to be on the safe side, he suggested we come back for another check up in a year.
Unlike last time, when Ivan pooped in my hands as I was undressing him to weigh him, this time he behaved. There were no explosion poops.
Allen was extremely alert all day today and was interested in the surroundings at the hospital (actually, he was wide awake for the entire day today, from 7 a.m. until 9 p.m.). He was desperately and eagerly trying to communicate with the EKG and echo technicians and the doctor. He was doing his best to charm them, but they were rather immune to his flirting and focused on their work.
He weighs 11 lbs 13 oz and is 24 inches long.
Unlike last time, when Ivan pooped in my hands as I was undressing him to weigh him, this time he behaved. There were no explosion poops.
Allen was extremely alert all day today and was interested in the surroundings at the hospital (actually, he was wide awake for the entire day today, from 7 a.m. until 9 p.m.). He was desperately and eagerly trying to communicate with the EKG and echo technicians and the doctor. He was doing his best to charm them, but they were rather immune to his flirting and focused on their work.
He weighs 11 lbs 13 oz and is 24 inches long.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Potty Training, Take: whatever take
Even though Ivan exhibited a very early interest in using the potty as soon as I bought the potty last May, my half-hearted efforts to fully potty train him have really fallen flat over the last year.
He got the concept of using the potty immediately and promptly started going on the potty whenever he was naked. I thought training him would be a breeze. But no. Every attempt at putting him in underwear failed.
Last week, potty training got turned up a notch.
All kids but one in his three year-old classroom, into which he transitioned when he turned three last month, are potty training. There is another child in pull ups but that's it. Ivan was still wearing diapers. The teacher takes them potty all at the same time, so I assume the kids basically see and know who's potty trained and who's not.
Since I had heard ambivalent remarks whether pull ups are a good transition toward underwear or whether they simply prolong the diaper stage, I was on the fence and was hoping that we could potty train him without that extra step.
Then two weeks ago, Ivan threw a fit when Andy took him to daycare on Tuesday. He didn't want to leave the house to go. We had a very difficult time getting him dressed. He wanted to stay home with mama. Once at daycare, he didn't want to go to Ms. Rosa's classroom (the three year-old classroom) but wanted to go to see Ms. Yvonne, his old two year-old classroom teacher. He also cried for mama, especially at nap time, which is something he had never done before. Since this happened a few days after I heard him talk in his sleep about diapers, we concluded that he probably was embarrassed about being the only one in diapers, but since he didn't want to give up diapers that the only way not to be embarrassed was to return to the old classroom, where most of the kids are still in diapers.
The same thing happened on Wednesday. Ivan didn't want to go to daycare. He called out and cried for mama. For the first time ever, Medic accompanied Ivan to daycare so they could nap. I called Ms. Rosa to see how he was faring, and decided to put him in pull ups. Apparently, Ivan had said in class over the last few weeks that "mama is at home with the baby," which probably really bothers him. I assumed he didn't realize that I'm at home with Allen, but that I go to work like I had done in the past.
That day, I went to pick him up from daycare. On the way home we went to Rite Aid to buy pulls up. He helped me pick them out. In theory, he did. He got too distracted with the deodorant displays which were behind us. When we came home, I changed him and put on pulls up. My initial plan was go change him into underwear when he's home and use pulls up for daycare, but he didn't want anything to do with underwear. Initially, he didn't want anything to do with pull ups either. He resisted them I had laid out various Allen's diapers (for small baby), Ivan's diapers (for big baby), pull ups (for big boys), swim diapers (which look like pull ups) and underwear, and then explained who wear what. He wanted diapers. After trying to reason with him and get him to wear pull ups for an hour or so, I finally gave up and left the room. However, my mother who was over, persisted, and some half an hour later, Ivan materialized downstairs in pull ups. I asked her what magic she used to get him to acquiesce to pulls up. Nothing, she said. She just sat there with him and eventually he asked her to put on the pull ups.
He's been wearing pulls ups ever since. I now make a bit deal about changing him now in the bathroom and taking off pulls up as if they were underwear, instead of unvelcroing them off like diapers.
That Thursday, he went to daycare in pulls up. It was still a traumatic daycare drop off, Andy said, but less so that the previous two days.
Then this past week, he was fine. He didn't say anything about wanting or not wanting to go to daycare.
Whether it was the pulls up that did the trick or whether that one week was a pure aberration, I don't know. In any case, we seem to be through with diapers. Now if we can only make it to underwear.
He got the concept of using the potty immediately and promptly started going on the potty whenever he was naked. I thought training him would be a breeze. But no. Every attempt at putting him in underwear failed.
Last week, potty training got turned up a notch.
All kids but one in his three year-old classroom, into which he transitioned when he turned three last month, are potty training. There is another child in pull ups but that's it. Ivan was still wearing diapers. The teacher takes them potty all at the same time, so I assume the kids basically see and know who's potty trained and who's not.
Since I had heard ambivalent remarks whether pull ups are a good transition toward underwear or whether they simply prolong the diaper stage, I was on the fence and was hoping that we could potty train him without that extra step.
Then two weeks ago, Ivan threw a fit when Andy took him to daycare on Tuesday. He didn't want to leave the house to go. We had a very difficult time getting him dressed. He wanted to stay home with mama. Once at daycare, he didn't want to go to Ms. Rosa's classroom (the three year-old classroom) but wanted to go to see Ms. Yvonne, his old two year-old classroom teacher. He also cried for mama, especially at nap time, which is something he had never done before. Since this happened a few days after I heard him talk in his sleep about diapers, we concluded that he probably was embarrassed about being the only one in diapers, but since he didn't want to give up diapers that the only way not to be embarrassed was to return to the old classroom, where most of the kids are still in diapers.
The same thing happened on Wednesday. Ivan didn't want to go to daycare. He called out and cried for mama. For the first time ever, Medic accompanied Ivan to daycare so they could nap. I called Ms. Rosa to see how he was faring, and decided to put him in pull ups. Apparently, Ivan had said in class over the last few weeks that "mama is at home with the baby," which probably really bothers him. I assumed he didn't realize that I'm at home with Allen, but that I go to work like I had done in the past.
That day, I went to pick him up from daycare. On the way home we went to Rite Aid to buy pulls up. He helped me pick them out. In theory, he did. He got too distracted with the deodorant displays which were behind us. When we came home, I changed him and put on pulls up. My initial plan was go change him into underwear when he's home and use pulls up for daycare, but he didn't want anything to do with underwear. Initially, he didn't want anything to do with pull ups either. He resisted them I had laid out various Allen's diapers (for small baby), Ivan's diapers (for big baby), pull ups (for big boys), swim diapers (which look like pull ups) and underwear, and then explained who wear what. He wanted diapers. After trying to reason with him and get him to wear pull ups for an hour or so, I finally gave up and left the room. However, my mother who was over, persisted, and some half an hour later, Ivan materialized downstairs in pull ups. I asked her what magic she used to get him to acquiesce to pulls up. Nothing, she said. She just sat there with him and eventually he asked her to put on the pull ups.
He's been wearing pulls ups ever since. I now make a bit deal about changing him now in the bathroom and taking off pulls up as if they were underwear, instead of unvelcroing them off like diapers.
That Thursday, he went to daycare in pulls up. It was still a traumatic daycare drop off, Andy said, but less so that the previous two days.
Then this past week, he was fine. He didn't say anything about wanting or not wanting to go to daycare.
Whether it was the pulls up that did the trick or whether that one week was a pure aberration, I don't know. In any case, we seem to be through with diapers. Now if we can only make it to underwear.
Baby Smell Gone
I have obviously been inseparable from Allen since he was born some 10 weeks ago. I have literally watched him grow in front of me. And because I am with him and look at him all the time, I probably miss out on noticing any major changes.
Today, I was watching him sleep in my arms. He has slowly developed from a newborn into a beautiful chubby-cheek baby. His head has long stopped resembling a small newborn head and his body has plumped out. Most of the milia he was born with are gone. The hair has grown over the head-spurt growth he underwent a few weeks ago..... And then as I was reflecting on all these changes, I realized another thing: his newborn smell is gone.
And I have no clue when the smell dissipated.
I recall smelling him for weeks after he was born. Then I must have forgotten about it or gotten used to it or something. In any case, it's no longer there. And I miss it. It was such a precious fleeting smell for which I knew wasn't going to last long but the fact that it faded away without me even noticing it really upsets me.
I wish I could've bottled it.
Today, I was watching him sleep in my arms. He has slowly developed from a newborn into a beautiful chubby-cheek baby. His head has long stopped resembling a small newborn head and his body has plumped out. Most of the milia he was born with are gone. The hair has grown over the head-spurt growth he underwent a few weeks ago..... And then as I was reflecting on all these changes, I realized another thing: his newborn smell is gone.
And I have no clue when the smell dissipated.
I recall smelling him for weeks after he was born. Then I must have forgotten about it or gotten used to it or something. In any case, it's no longer there. And I miss it. It was such a precious fleeting smell for which I knew wasn't going to last long but the fact that it faded away without me even noticing it really upsets me.
I wish I could've bottled it.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Three-part birthday celebration
Three-part birthday celebration
Ivan turned three two weeks ago. The birthday party played out in three parts, with a potential fourth installment as Andy's parents couldn't make the party.
Part 1
We had to postpone the party because of this year's record breaking snowstorms and the fact that there would've been absolutely nowhere for people to park. So instead of holding the party on its designated date, we had a dinner celebration with my parents. Just dinner and cake. None of which Ivan wanted to eat. The cake was really a fruit tart not a real cake with chocolate he expected.
However, we put candles on the tart. He excited when we lit candles and he blew them out.
"My fire," he calls them.
Then he threw a minor tempter tantrum because the cake wasn't to his liking.
Part 2: Daycare
We planned on celebrating his birthday on the actual date at daycare. But that was the snowstorm week and daycare was closed for the entire week. So we celebrated the following week. Andy, Allen and I arrived at 3:30, after their nap, with cupcakes, which I had made from scratch. Ivan was very excited when he saw us.
After some running around, Ms. Rosa sat the kids at a table, we put a cupcake in front of Ivan and he blew out his three candles. He was beaming with joy. He seemed genuinely tickled that all that attention was for him.
All kids got a cupcake. Ivan ate the chocolate of his and then wanted another one. After some 10-15 minutes of eating their cupcake and munching on their snacks, most kids moved on to play, leaving their semi-eaten cupcakes behind. Ivan, however, was still working on his frosting. He and another pudgy, stocky boy were very focused on eating the cakes. It's really disturbing how much he likes sweets, especially compared to other kids. My rotten teeth nightmares are now slowly getting replaced with fat kid nightmares.
Part 3: Birthday party
We held the postponed party yesterday.
Ivan had spent the night before at my parents house and Saturday morning, which let us clean the house on Friday and prepare for the party. It was also a ploy to get him to take a good nap in the car on the way over here. My mom had prepped him for the party and dressed him nicely. When he arrived around 2 p.m. he was so excited that this was going to be "my party with presents." After playing with the balloons and asking us "which one you want mama," he proceeded to set the table. He put out a fork and spoon and a plate for us (us and my parents). It was adorable to watch him do that. I guess he learned that in daycare, as we had never practiced setting the table with him, although he does see me set the table regularly for dinner.
Ten three year-olds and their parents arrived ready to celebrate. Fearing that sugar-high three year-olds would wreck our living space, Andy suggested we get some entertainment. We looked at hiring a balloon artist (Andy's original idea) or Mickey Mouse. The balloon person got back to me first, so he was our entertainment of choice. This proved to be an excellent decision (way to go, Andy). The Zoony Balloons guy was great. The kids were enthralled and mesmerized. He blew up several individual balloon creations for all kids. His performance provided a focal point for the party and definitely cut down on mayhem. The kids still opened a toy box and pulled out toys, and proceeded to chase each other around the house, but it would've been much worse without the balloons.
Eventually, after the cake, they started chasing each other with balloons around the house. Every once in a while, a balloon would poop. Really loudly. It didn't seem to scare any of the kids.
Mariposa, however, was petrified. At first, she really enjoyed the company and all the excitement, but eventually it must have become too overwhelming for her. She actually voluntarily retreated to her bed on the top of the stairs, which is something she never wants to do. Then we let her outside into the yard. My dad barely managed to lure her back in with lots of cheese. The balloons scared her, especially once they started pooping. Even today, she's been avoiding the left-over balloon creations we have scattered around the house.
When the cake time came, all kids sat around the table, with Ivan at his position on the bench. He was beaming. Andy brought out the cake--a vanilla cake with chocolate icing and a Mickey and Mini toy in the center. Everyone sang happy birthday and Ivan blew out the candles. His eyes were sparkling with joy. Then he grabbed the Mickey toy, which I think he thought was cake not a plastic toy--to lick off the icing. Soon, his entire face and shirt were brown and blue with frosting, which he was methodically and thoroughly licking off. Eventually, we gave him an actual piece of cake.
It was endearing to see Ivan so aware and excited that this celebration was for him. I didn't realize that a three year-old would care so much. I'm glad we held the party, considering that initially we briefly considered not holding it but just inviting the family.
I was very surprised that Ivan nicely played with all the kids, although some of them he hadn't seen in a long time. I feared that he wouldn't have a good time, that he wouldn't let kids touch his toys (but would yell, "that mine") or that he would throw a temper tantrum and want to be in the living room with everyone. None of that happened. He had a blast, and so did we.
This was also a coming out party for Allen, as no one had seen him before. He spent the entire party in my mom's arms. He slept a bit, but was mostly alert and interested in what was going on. He didn't cry at all.
All in all, the party was a big success.
(Except Mariposa probably didn't think so.)
Ivan turned three two weeks ago. The birthday party played out in three parts, with a potential fourth installment as Andy's parents couldn't make the party.
Part 1
We had to postpone the party because of this year's record breaking snowstorms and the fact that there would've been absolutely nowhere for people to park. So instead of holding the party on its designated date, we had a dinner celebration with my parents. Just dinner and cake. None of which Ivan wanted to eat. The cake was really a fruit tart not a real cake with chocolate he expected.
However, we put candles on the tart. He excited when we lit candles and he blew them out.
"My fire," he calls them.
Then he threw a minor tempter tantrum because the cake wasn't to his liking.
Part 2: Daycare
We planned on celebrating his birthday on the actual date at daycare. But that was the snowstorm week and daycare was closed for the entire week. So we celebrated the following week. Andy, Allen and I arrived at 3:30, after their nap, with cupcakes, which I had made from scratch. Ivan was very excited when he saw us.
After some running around, Ms. Rosa sat the kids at a table, we put a cupcake in front of Ivan and he blew out his three candles. He was beaming with joy. He seemed genuinely tickled that all that attention was for him.
All kids got a cupcake. Ivan ate the chocolate of his and then wanted another one. After some 10-15 minutes of eating their cupcake and munching on their snacks, most kids moved on to play, leaving their semi-eaten cupcakes behind. Ivan, however, was still working on his frosting. He and another pudgy, stocky boy were very focused on eating the cakes. It's really disturbing how much he likes sweets, especially compared to other kids. My rotten teeth nightmares are now slowly getting replaced with fat kid nightmares.
Part 3: Birthday party
We held the postponed party yesterday.
Ivan had spent the night before at my parents house and Saturday morning, which let us clean the house on Friday and prepare for the party. It was also a ploy to get him to take a good nap in the car on the way over here. My mom had prepped him for the party and dressed him nicely. When he arrived around 2 p.m. he was so excited that this was going to be "my party with presents." After playing with the balloons and asking us "which one you want mama," he proceeded to set the table. He put out a fork and spoon and a plate for us (us and my parents). It was adorable to watch him do that. I guess he learned that in daycare, as we had never practiced setting the table with him, although he does see me set the table regularly for dinner.
Ten three year-olds and their parents arrived ready to celebrate. Fearing that sugar-high three year-olds would wreck our living space, Andy suggested we get some entertainment. We looked at hiring a balloon artist (Andy's original idea) or Mickey Mouse. The balloon person got back to me first, so he was our entertainment of choice. This proved to be an excellent decision (way to go, Andy). The Zoony Balloons guy was great. The kids were enthralled and mesmerized. He blew up several individual balloon creations for all kids. His performance provided a focal point for the party and definitely cut down on mayhem. The kids still opened a toy box and pulled out toys, and proceeded to chase each other around the house, but it would've been much worse without the balloons.
Eventually, after the cake, they started chasing each other with balloons around the house. Every once in a while, a balloon would poop. Really loudly. It didn't seem to scare any of the kids.
Mariposa, however, was petrified. At first, she really enjoyed the company and all the excitement, but eventually it must have become too overwhelming for her. She actually voluntarily retreated to her bed on the top of the stairs, which is something she never wants to do. Then we let her outside into the yard. My dad barely managed to lure her back in with lots of cheese. The balloons scared her, especially once they started pooping. Even today, she's been avoiding the left-over balloon creations we have scattered around the house.
When the cake time came, all kids sat around the table, with Ivan at his position on the bench. He was beaming. Andy brought out the cake--a vanilla cake with chocolate icing and a Mickey and Mini toy in the center. Everyone sang happy birthday and Ivan blew out the candles. His eyes were sparkling with joy. Then he grabbed the Mickey toy, which I think he thought was cake not a plastic toy--to lick off the icing. Soon, his entire face and shirt were brown and blue with frosting, which he was methodically and thoroughly licking off. Eventually, we gave him an actual piece of cake.
It was endearing to see Ivan so aware and excited that this celebration was for him. I didn't realize that a three year-old would care so much. I'm glad we held the party, considering that initially we briefly considered not holding it but just inviting the family.
I was very surprised that Ivan nicely played with all the kids, although some of them he hadn't seen in a long time. I feared that he wouldn't have a good time, that he wouldn't let kids touch his toys (but would yell, "that mine") or that he would throw a temper tantrum and want to be in the living room with everyone. None of that happened. He had a blast, and so did we.
This was also a coming out party for Allen, as no one had seen him before. He spent the entire party in my mom's arms. He slept a bit, but was mostly alert and interested in what was going on. He didn't cry at all.
All in all, the party was a big success.
(Except Mariposa probably didn't think so.)
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