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...

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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.)

Trip to the dentist

On Monday I took Ivan to the dentist. It was his first dental appoitnment.

The night before and that morning, we talked about going to the dentist, what the dentist was going to do and how ivan will need open his mouth to give dentist a big aaa.

What a disaster. We got there. The waiting room was fine. It was a typical large dental practice, with Mickey posters on the wall and scooby doo playing on the tv

Instead of individual rooms, the examing area was one big , bright open space with several dental chairs.

The technician led us to one chair. Ivan sat down while stood next to him. The techician, a nice middle-aged woman, asked him to open his mouth so she could count his teeth. She showed him the tool she would use . He obliged and opened his mouth. Success.

Then she put some red dye on a qtip to put on his teeth so they could check for cavities. He wouldn't open his mouth. She drew a smiley face with it on a paper towel to show him. Nope. He was done. " I want to go home , " he said and wiggled out of the chair. And that was it. No way he was going to sit back in.
He started throwing a temper tantrum. I felt like everyone in the room was watching us. All I could hope for that they see this type of behavior on regular basis.

Then the dentist came, a young nonthreatening looking woman.

He wouldn't open his mouth for her, nor was he going to sit back in the chair.

So I had to sit in the chair, have him straddle me in my lap, and tilt him backwards so that the dentist could peak in his mouth while a technician was standing ready to take notes.

No cavities that she could glimpse from peaking into his mouth for literally a second.

Cleaning his teeth was out of question.

I thought Ivan would do well at the dentist although I'm not sure where I got that thought considering that he is a willful three year old. I took him to the dentist with me last summer so I though he'd know what he was in for.
They asked whether we brush his teeth, etc. All the typical dental hygene questions I knew we would get.
I did admit that he drinks milk before he goes to sleep after we brush his teeth.

I got scolded for doing so and shown photos of a kid's rotten black teeth, just like those I've had nightmares about.

Ivan got a goody bag, which contained a toothbrush, toothpaste, floss and some other trinkets.

The technician suggested we continue brushing his teeth like we've done so far but also to rebrush teeth in bed with the dry toothbrush after he finishes his milk and after story time.

I tried that tonight and it worked.

Check ups

We took Allen and Ivan for their respective six weeks and three years check ups today.

Vital stats:
Ivan weighs 32 lbs, which puts him in the 50th percentile, and is 36 inches tall, which is the 25th percentile. Just as we suspected, he's getting stocky. It's time to curb sweets ( which he doesn't eat that often, but for which he really has a sweet tooth), switch him to skim milk, get him to eat fruits and veggies (good luck to us), and maybe cut down on his cheese intake, which is unfortunately, all he eats.

Allen weighs almost 12 lbs and is 22 inches long, both of which put him in the 50th percentile. (By contrast, I think that at his 6 weeks appointment, Ivan had fallen to 10 percent before subsequently resuming growth in the 25th percentile, where he still remains today).

Ivan was all about getting a sticker and kept asking for a sticker. Ivan got one shot, HIB, and a finger prick to check for anemia. He was a big boy and didn't cry for either. Actually, he was very intrigued when the nurse started squeezing droplets of blood into a vial. He was very observant. They also checked his pulse. It was cute to see that handcuff on him. On the way out, Ivan finally got his sticker.

Later at home, he said " my bubu is done" and took off the bandaid he got for the fingerprick.

Allen, poor baby, got 3 separate injections, which contained vaccines against 7 diseases, as well as a liquid for rotovirus. Needless to say, the poor baby didn't know what hit him and started crying. It's just awful to have inflict any sort of pain on such little baby.

I dream about ...

Ocassionally, I hear Ivan yell "no" in his sleep and wonder what does he dream about. I assume he's resolving some sort of daycare drama. Maybe something about toys, etc. Or maybe he's sayibg no to us or is trying to make Mariposa behave. Who knows.

Tonight, like every night, I went to check on him in his room before I went to bed. As I was tucking him in, he rolled over.

"Diapers. I have diapers on," he said in his sleep.

It made me giggle. Now I know what he dreams about.

I wonder if he's slowly feeling the pressure to use the potty. After the initial successful potty training when he's naked, and several unsuccesful attempts to get himto wear underwear, I gave up deciding to resume the training this spring. But we continue to tell him to let us know when he needs to go and keep talking how big boys use the potty. (Lately, he's been saying 'I big. I big boy' as opposed to Allen who's a baby.)

Also , almost all kids in his new three year-old classroom are potty trained.

Maybe all this direct and indirect pressure is getting to him. Maybe he's resolving the potty training issue in his sleep and will soon be ready.

I just hope we're not inadvertently stressing him out.

Ivan: Three Years Old

Ivan turned three today. Unbelievable.

I have no clue where did the time go, nor how did Andy and I become parents to these two little boys.

We told him it was his birthday today but I don't think it really registered. We didn't make a big deal out of it, nor was there any cake, which in his mind signifies a birthday.

We were planning to take cupcakes to daycare and celebrate, but due to this week's snowstorms, the daycare, like everything else around us, is closed. So we'll need to celebrate next week. We were also planning to have a small birthday party this Saturday, but I think we'll have to postpone it as well because there will be absolutely nowhere to park.

The other day, we did talk about his birthday party and what kids are coming. He told me that not everyone can come to the party. I asked who would he like to invite.

"Blue cows and white cows," he said. I have no clue where he came up with that.

Allen: Outgrowing the Unattractive Phase

For the last few weeks, I've been joking that Allen's been going through his unattractive phase--he's been bald, still had milia from birth, had a case of baby acne and still has a closed tear duct.

Well now, new hairgrowth is coming in, milia are slowly disappearing, and the baby acne have abated as well. Just the tear duct remains.

He's also become so alert and so communicative when he's awake. I love it. His entire face beams when he "talks" to me. He's smiling, immitating my goofy expressions and making all sorts of gurgly sounds.

Other times, he looks very serious. As if one has to work really hard to entertain the baby. He also has this very inquisitive, intense, almost scared expression on his face.

The 'Little Books' Emergency

It was barely 5:30 this morning. I had just finished nursing Allen who was beginning settle into his rhythmical a-minor slumber on my chest when I heard Ivan stirring in his room.

"Mamma, mamma" he was beginning to call out in his sleep. I stayed still hoping that he would fall back asleep. But a minute later he was in our room.

"Read books, mamma, read books," he whined inconsolably.

Last night, Ivan fell asleep without me and without us reading the "little books." Andy had told him that I would come up to read the books but before that happened he had fallen asleep.
This morning he must have not realized that he had slept through the night but must have thought it was still last night. I couldn't convince him that it was nighttime and to fall back asleep in our bed. He was inconsolable and insisted on reading his little books.

I grabbed the books off my nightstand where they permanently reside as we've been reading the same four little books for months now as part of our bedtime routine. And because we've been reading them night after night, I've also memorized them. Ivan sat up in our bed. In the dark, I flipped through the pages--Dr. Seuss's Left Foot and Wocket in the Pocket, and The Going to Bed Book, which happens to be my favorite baby book--while reciting the words. I fumbled a bit through the Wocket book but it didn't matter. Ivan calmed down and dozed off until 7 or so.

Bedtime Routine
Reading books before falling asleep has finally become a part of our bedtime routine. Andy still give him a bath. Then I come up to the room to take over. Sometimes Andy put his jammies on; other time, I do it. Spending this alone time with him is even more important now that Allen's here. We switch kids. Andy takes Allen, and I stay with Ivan. (The only time Ivan has ever said anything negative about Allen was the other week, when I came up with Allen. "Go away Allen," he said, thinking that Allen would stay up with us.)

Before we settle down to read books, Ivan still sometimes likes to run up and down the hallway, or jump on our bed. He also has a new game where he takes all our pillows and puts them on top of him. "Close the doors," he says, as he puts all pillows on top of him. If any body parts are not covered, I need to put the pillow on him. Then he emerges from under the pillows. I should really take a photo of him among the pillows, as it's really cute. (For the last few months, he's been all about the closing and opening the doors game with all his toys.)

After he calms down, which usually requires me to invoke the counting to three, (where getting to number three is the threat of timeout), we snuggle in our bed and read books. We used to read all sorts of books he'd pick out, but for the last few weeks, we've been exclusively reading the four little books (the fourth book is Dr. Seuss's Hop on Pop). During Christmas time, he really like the "Twas Night Before Christmas, but we no longer read that since Christmas is over.)

After we read the four books, he usually wants to fall asleep in our bed with me by his side. However, on a rare occasion, he gets up, takes Medic and his bottle, and goes to sleep in his bed. Sometimes, he wants me to come with me, other times he doesn't. (The times he doesn't want me/need me to fall asleep with him,, I've actually felt hurt and rejected, like I felt when he stopped nursing. But obviously in the long run needs to learn to fall asleep on his own.)

I've also realized that most of the time I don't need to be with him until he falls asleep; he just wants me there until he settles down.

I think that actually having me with him prolongs him staying awake. He's been fighting sleep lately. He often tells me that he doesn't want to go to bed and that he doesn't want to close his eyes. Ocassionally, he tells me not to close my eyes and not to sleep either. I don't know whether it's because he doesn't want to sleep because he doesn't want to miss out on anything, which is apparently typical three year-old behavior, or whether he's developing fears, which is also possible at this age.

While we regularly brush Ivan's teeth as part of the bedtime routine, he's still been taking his milk bottle (not a bottle with the nipple, but a juice bottle) to bed with him, and drinking it after he brushes his teeth. I still don't like this practice and fear that he'll end up with rotten black teeth, but I've learned to be less anxious about it. At least he drinks his milk while we're reading books, he doesn't nurse the bottle to sleep.

Sleeping in the Big Boy's Bed

In October, we moved Ivan from the crib to the full size bed in his new room, e.g. the spare bedroom, to empty the crib room and prepare it for Allen. (I had qualms about letting a toddler sleep in a big bed like that, but that's another issue.) Since the move, he's wanted to sleep in his crib a few rare times, but he really likes his new bed and his new room. Except for those times when he comes to our bed.

When we moved him to the big bed, the first night he woke up in the middle of the night, he called for me. I found him standing at the entrance of his room hugging Medic. He stood there as if he needed permission to move. I told him to come to our bed. The following night, when he woke up in the middle of the night, he came to our room but just stood there. I had to tell him to climb into the bed. Since then, if he wakes up during the night, he just sprints over to our room, holding Medic and jumps into the bed. I don't even think he's awake while he's doing that.

It's midnight and what am I doing

...pumping. My breast pump and I have been getting reacquainted over the last few days. I really had an aversion toward assembling and staring the whole pumping process but it was about time. last time I hadn't started pumping until I was a month away from returning to work and eventually I ran out of milk.

(last time, it took me about a month after ivan was born to go and buy the pump. Then I sat at it the dining room table unopened, and stared at it for a month before I felt psychologically ready to assemble it and give it a try. I ended up pumping for the next year.)

However, the last 3 months before Ivan turned 1 and could drink cow milk, i had to suplement with formula. No big deal but still. This time I'm hoping to store away more milk. However, I don't think that I'm pumping as much extra milk as I was able to pump with Ivan so early on. Maybe I'm just misremebering or I'm not pumping at times when I have extra milk.

Snowstorm: Playing with Ivan

What a difference six weeks makes. Instead of freaking out whether I was going to go into labor as I did with the pre-Xmas storm six weeks ago, I was able to enjoy this weekend's storm of the century.

Unfortunately, I didn't get to go out and play in the snow like I wanted to do, but rather spent yesterday and today at home with Ivan, Allen and Mariposa. (I also really like the idea of going out and playing in the snow more so than the actual act.) Andy had to work today (some basketball game that apparently counldn't be posptoned) and yesterday, while he was home, he was actually out shoveling the snow most of the day.

I had a blast playing with Ivan. Initially, I was apprehensive that he was going to go house-crazy, be full of energy, and be hard to manage, but he was not. In addition to playing with his collection of "boops" and unraveling the wool around the house, for the first time, we did a whole slew of crafty activities.

Yesterday, he found my watercolor set in a drawer and wanted to paint. I found an old sketchbook, set us up at the table and we colored for a very long time. We made four pictures. We took turns painting.

Then he wanted his little scissors to cut paper. (He's been interested in learning to cut paper since last summer when we took him to the aviation museum where they had a children's arts/crafts station, which included scissors. He's gotten very good at cutting, too.) He cut the paper into many little pieces. Then he took the tape, and put a piece of tape on each side of the cut papers. I told him he was making bookmarks.

Later in the day, he helped me make muffins. He stood on his little red chair to be able to reach the countertop and watch me. He stirred the eggs (myself, I want to do it myself). Then he mixed the flour and the sugar. Then he got a special job, of putting cupcake holders into the pan.

Today, we painted some more at his initiative. Then I got out his coloring book. We got crayons to color. We also cut more paper and made more bookmarks.

He also pulled out two Dr. Zeuss's books, which Kris recently brought over and started flipping through them. "I reading," he told me. He basically flipped through the pages and explained to me what was on each page. (He's been "reading" his "little books" at bed time with me for the last few weeks as well.)

Then he found Scrabble and started opening it. "What that, mamma. A game? Want to play?" he asked me. I couldn't say no, although I really didn't to him to discover and start pulling the letters. When he opened the box, he first saw the four wooden pieces on which players put the letters. I quickly told him that the game is to take those wooden pieces out and put his crayons and chalk, which was on the table, on it. He liked that. And the chalk fit perfectly. I put away the Scrabble box before he could rummage in it and find the bag with letters.

Years ago when I started imagining how it would be to have a child, I would think of doing little artsy/craftsy activities with the child (a girl in my dreams, of course). I also dreamed about taking the child to the arts classes at the Smithsonian. So now that Ivan's has gotten old to want to engage in such artsy activities, I am so thrilled to play with him.

Last week, we also made our first pasta necklaces. I figured he'd like making the necklaces because pulling string (wool, in this case) through macaroni, is just a type of a fine, precise motor skill that he likes to do.

More on the little red chair: (For the last few months, he's been taking that little chair around the house and climbing on it to reach what ever he's after. It's really cute. I like how he's inventive, self-sufficient and taking thing in his own hands. Donna, from work, said that after I recounted some Ivan story to her last year. I think it was him going for seconds at a birthday party. I think the first time he used the red chair to accomplish something was when Andy turned off the light in the kitchen, which was against Ivan's orders. He stormed out of the kitchen. I thought he was going to fling himself on the couch and throw a tempter tantum, but instead he went to get the chair, took it to the kitchen, climbed on it and turned the light switch back on. We cracked up.)

Ivan and the Bunnies

Today's new development in Ivan's ongoing dealing with his imaginary bunnies. Today, after they woke up from their cages where they live under the edge of the carpet, they were hopping around the house, ultimately to end up in the kitchen.

They were pooping on the floor in the kitchen, he said. Not in diapers or on the potty, but on the floor.



Last summer, the bunniest were always someplace outside the house. Then gradually they moved in. Then he spent several months talking about opening the door or closing the door to let the bunnies get it or to keep them out.

And, now they were apparently pooping on our kitchen floor.