Allen turned six months two weeks ago. We started feeding him solids at that time. Not really solids, but that cardboard-y, tasteless rice cereal, which I'm sure tastes even work when mixed with water, like I've given it to him, than with breast milk, and a few pureed veggies--peas, carrots, squash.
He didn't really like the cereal the first time I fed it to him. It was probably to lumpy, and not thin enough. He apparently has liked the cereal with milk, as my parents and Andy fed him. He was eager, however, to eat the pureed veggies. He doesn't know how to eat, so food's going everywhere, but he's so eager to eat and taste things. (I have to remember this when he's Ivan's age and is eating nothing but cheese.)
Earlier this week, when I changed his poopy diapers, I realized that the poop had changed. Gone is the liquidy, sweet-smelling mustard-seedy infant poop. Instead, I cleaned some think, hard stinky poop. The real stuff. And it made me sad. It made me sad to realize that the infant poop is gone, that Allen's growing, that each day, he's leaving his babyhood behind.
When I told Andy about this, he said to stop looking for things to be sad about. He didn't get it, I guess.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Scared of Fireworks
It ended up being a good thing that we basically almost missed the fireworks. Our plan was to hit the GW parkway just in time for fireworks and then pull on the side of the road during the show, right across from the Washington Monument. But unlike last year, when fortuitously this plan worked out perfectly, this year, we left Beth's house too early. Although we drove at snail's speed, and at one point actually pulled over until a police siren told us to keep on moving, we still had too much time until the fireworks. So we decided that, never mind, we'll just drive away. But once on the actual parkway part of the GW parkway, and left DC behind us, we pulled over on one of the curves from which we could see the Washington Monument. Although we were far, we had a really good view of the show, with very muted noise.
Andy and Ivan positioned themselves in a lawn chair next to the car, while I remained in the car, with Allen who woke up and was crying. Once the fireworks started, Ivan freaked out and got scared. He rushed to the car, sat in his car seat and shut the door. He was really scared. He told us so. I don't know whether it was the noise or the actual lights, but it completely freaked him out.
Andy took Allen out of the car. We were afraid that not liking fireworks and sitting in the car in the dark with a crying baby would create a bad memory for him. So Allen sat with Andy in the lawn chair and and watch the fireworks. He was very alert and taken by the show, Andy said. I watched the fireworks from the passenger's seat in the car, with the door open. Ivan, who was sitting behind me wouldn't open the door, nor would he come to sit on my lap. Every once in a while, he turned around to see the fireworks, but he spent most of the show, sitting in his seat and waiting for all of it to end.
I don't know what freaked him out. The night before at Jared's graduation in York someone set off a few very low key fireworks relatively close to the house. We thought it was magical. Ivan was scared. So the fact that he freaked out during the 4th of July fireworks didn't come out as a huge surprise. In the end, it was better we didn't get to park along the GW parkway right across from the Washington Monument as he had hoped. Ivan would've been really scared--the fireworks would've been so much more immediate and loud--and we wouldn't been able to drive away. Watching them from afar was perfect.
I don't know why he was afraid. He watched them last year and seemed fine with it. This time, he specifically told us he was scared, but he wouldn't say why.
We drove home. Allen fell asleep but Ivan was awake the entire ride home. I assumed he'd fall asleep since it was after 9:30. Then, as we pulled into our driveway, the Takoma Park (or some other local) fireworks went off. We couldn't actually see them, but we saw flashes of light behind the Nolte Park tree line. Ivan quickly got out of the car, and jumped at me. "Mama, mama, hurry. Let's get in the house," he said as he hugged me so hard. His heart was beating furiously. I don't think he ever hugged me so hard. I've never felt him or seen him be so scared.
Lately, he seems to be developing fears. It's normal for three year-old, so I read. Maybe it's their wild imagination taking over, or they're sorting out the world more and more, and are beginning to be aware of things that don't make sense. Or maybe, as they're becoming more verbal, they're just better at expressing what they've been feeling all along.
Ivan has told us on several occasions now that he's scared. He's scared of the "lion" carving on Andy's antique chair on our bedroom (actually, it is a really scary carving that kind of freaks me out as well), he's afraid of people (I think he just means strangers), he's afraid of running in the water fountain in Silver Spring (actually, being a cautious child that he is, that doesn't surprise me) and he's afraid of the water mist at the zoo (I really can't explain that one, except that I know he doesn't like water in his eyes or on his face.) He's also my child, and I'm neurotic and anxious about so many things. That's why I'm trying hard not to pass my fears onto him. I can try to raise him fearless, although I'm not. But maybe it's more an issue of nurture rather than nature. Who knows.
By the time we got into the house, the fireworks were over, and Mariposa was wagging her tail eagerly waiting for us to open the door. I thought she'd be scared as well, as dogs are also scared of fireworks noise but not Posa. To the right of her, we noticed a huge mess. While we were out, she had gotten into the bunch of bananas I had bought earlier in the day, and eaten all (5-6 bananas ) but one. While Ivan was helping us scold Posa (although he's not supposed to do that), he forgot all about the fireworks.
Andy and Ivan positioned themselves in a lawn chair next to the car, while I remained in the car, with Allen who woke up and was crying. Once the fireworks started, Ivan freaked out and got scared. He rushed to the car, sat in his car seat and shut the door. He was really scared. He told us so. I don't know whether it was the noise or the actual lights, but it completely freaked him out.
Andy took Allen out of the car. We were afraid that not liking fireworks and sitting in the car in the dark with a crying baby would create a bad memory for him. So Allen sat with Andy in the lawn chair and and watch the fireworks. He was very alert and taken by the show, Andy said. I watched the fireworks from the passenger's seat in the car, with the door open. Ivan, who was sitting behind me wouldn't open the door, nor would he come to sit on my lap. Every once in a while, he turned around to see the fireworks, but he spent most of the show, sitting in his seat and waiting for all of it to end.
I don't know what freaked him out. The night before at Jared's graduation in York someone set off a few very low key fireworks relatively close to the house. We thought it was magical. Ivan was scared. So the fact that he freaked out during the 4th of July fireworks didn't come out as a huge surprise. In the end, it was better we didn't get to park along the GW parkway right across from the Washington Monument as he had hoped. Ivan would've been really scared--the fireworks would've been so much more immediate and loud--and we wouldn't been able to drive away. Watching them from afar was perfect.
I don't know why he was afraid. He watched them last year and seemed fine with it. This time, he specifically told us he was scared, but he wouldn't say why.
We drove home. Allen fell asleep but Ivan was awake the entire ride home. I assumed he'd fall asleep since it was after 9:30. Then, as we pulled into our driveway, the Takoma Park (or some other local) fireworks went off. We couldn't actually see them, but we saw flashes of light behind the Nolte Park tree line. Ivan quickly got out of the car, and jumped at me. "Mama, mama, hurry. Let's get in the house," he said as he hugged me so hard. His heart was beating furiously. I don't think he ever hugged me so hard. I've never felt him or seen him be so scared.
Lately, he seems to be developing fears. It's normal for three year-old, so I read. Maybe it's their wild imagination taking over, or they're sorting out the world more and more, and are beginning to be aware of things that don't make sense. Or maybe, as they're becoming more verbal, they're just better at expressing what they've been feeling all along.
Ivan has told us on several occasions now that he's scared. He's scared of the "lion" carving on Andy's antique chair on our bedroom (actually, it is a really scary carving that kind of freaks me out as well), he's afraid of people (I think he just means strangers), he's afraid of running in the water fountain in Silver Spring (actually, being a cautious child that he is, that doesn't surprise me) and he's afraid of the water mist at the zoo (I really can't explain that one, except that I know he doesn't like water in his eyes or on his face.) He's also my child, and I'm neurotic and anxious about so many things. That's why I'm trying hard not to pass my fears onto him. I can try to raise him fearless, although I'm not. But maybe it's more an issue of nurture rather than nature. Who knows.
By the time we got into the house, the fireworks were over, and Mariposa was wagging her tail eagerly waiting for us to open the door. I thought she'd be scared as well, as dogs are also scared of fireworks noise but not Posa. To the right of her, we noticed a huge mess. While we were out, she had gotten into the bunch of bananas I had bought earlier in the day, and eaten all (5-6 bananas ) but one. While Ivan was helping us scold Posa (although he's not supposed to do that), he forgot all about the fireworks.
Monday, June 28, 2010
First Foods
Allen turned six months last week. I started feeding him solids. First rice cereal , which he didn't like so much probably because I made it too clumpy and with water instead of milk.
Yesterday, he got his first peas. He ate a spoonful. Today he got three spoonfuls. He liked it.
He's ready to eat. He was very eager to try it.
For weeks now he'd been observing us eat, trying to reach for our food, mimicking our chewing motions, sucking on plates, well, sucking on anything he can get into his mouth.
"Give me that food. Give me that food," we laugh that his eyes and grunts seem to say.
When Ivan started eating solids, I made all his food. Cooked it, pureed it, etc. I don't know if it made a difference, whether it was better and healthier, but I wanted to do it. It made me feel good to do so, although it was increasingly time consuming (who knew that carrots take forever to cook and purée).
This time I decided not to do it because of the amount of time it takes. But now I'm debating. Maybe it's not such a big deal, maybe I should do it. I feel like I should. I want to provide Allen with the same start I provided Ivan with.
Sent from my iPhone
Yesterday, he got his first peas. He ate a spoonful. Today he got three spoonfuls. He liked it.
He's ready to eat. He was very eager to try it.
For weeks now he'd been observing us eat, trying to reach for our food, mimicking our chewing motions, sucking on plates, well, sucking on anything he can get into his mouth.
"Give me that food. Give me that food," we laugh that his eyes and grunts seem to say.
When Ivan started eating solids, I made all his food. Cooked it, pureed it, etc. I don't know if it made a difference, whether it was better and healthier, but I wanted to do it. It made me feel good to do so, although it was increasingly time consuming (who knew that carrots take forever to cook and purée).
This time I decided not to do it because of the amount of time it takes. But now I'm debating. Maybe it's not such a big deal, maybe I should do it. I feel like I should. I want to provide Allen with the same start I provided Ivan with.
Sent from my iPhone
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Actually
"Actually."
Ivan used that word twice today while we were on the way to daycare.
We cracked up.
The first time he said it, I thought I misheard him. But then he used it again a few minutes later, in a completely different sentence uttering a completely different thought.
Sent from my iPhone
Ivan used that word twice today while we were on the way to daycare.
We cracked up.
The first time he said it, I thought I misheard him. But then he used it again a few minutes later, in a completely different sentence uttering a completely different thought.
Sent from my iPhone
First crush
"Erika will like these," Ivan told us last week, as we were riding in the car to daycare and Ivan was sporting his new glasses. "Yes, Erika, will."
"Erika will come to my house to see my big machine," he told us on two separate occasions the week earlier.
A while back, I recall him saying thta Erika wasn't his friend. "Erika doesn't like me," he said at that point. (He said the same thing about Sashi as well. It seems that his friendship with Sashi is on and off. Who know three year old boys are so friend-oriented already.)
We think he has a crush on Erika. And Erika is really cute, too.
"Erika will come to my house to see my big machine," he told us on two separate occasions the week earlier.
A while back, I recall him saying thta Erika wasn't his friend. "Erika doesn't like me," he said at that point. (He said the same thing about Sashi as well. It seems that his friendship with Sashi is on and off. Who know three year old boys are so friend-oriented already.)
We think he has a crush on Erika. And Erika is really cute, too.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Ivan at Mimi's
Ivan's spending the weekend at Andy's parents' house. So far, so good. He and Andy went up on Friday. Andy spent the night and returned on Saturday, leaving Ivan alone.
The weekend has been so calm, easy and chill without him. We didn't know what to do with ourselves, especially considering we really can't go all wild to party (not that we're really such people, anyway) since Allen's home with us. It really made us where our energy and time go.
Taking care of a baby is so much easier than keeping up with a three year-old. Now, in retrospect, we can't recall why we thought that taking care of Ivan when he was a baby was so immensely hard. It's a breeze. I guess that's why it's called a second kid.
When I was on maternity leave with Ivan, I couldn't get a handle on the day. Like many other new moms had realized, I couldn't get a second to myself to take a shower or brush my teeth. I recall that I desperately wanted to go to one of the mommy and baby yoga sessions, but found it impossible to get everything ready to leave the house, not to mention, aim to leave the house at a specific time. On the other hand with Allen, maternity leave was a breeze. I was completely in control of the day. I was freshly showered each morning, I made dinners from scratch each evening, the house was organized and clean, etc....
But back to Ivan. He's supposed to stay in PA until Tuesday, or Wednesday. Let's see how long he lasts. Spending so many days and nights away from us will be too much for him. But since this was a plan that Andy and his mom hatched, I didn't want to get involved. I voiced my concern that that much time away from us may be too much, but didn't press the issue any further.
The weekend has been so calm, easy and chill without him. We didn't know what to do with ourselves, especially considering we really can't go all wild to party (not that we're really such people, anyway) since Allen's home with us. It really made us where our energy and time go.
Taking care of a baby is so much easier than keeping up with a three year-old. Now, in retrospect, we can't recall why we thought that taking care of Ivan when he was a baby was so immensely hard. It's a breeze. I guess that's why it's called a second kid.
When I was on maternity leave with Ivan, I couldn't get a handle on the day. Like many other new moms had realized, I couldn't get a second to myself to take a shower or brush my teeth. I recall that I desperately wanted to go to one of the mommy and baby yoga sessions, but found it impossible to get everything ready to leave the house, not to mention, aim to leave the house at a specific time. On the other hand with Allen, maternity leave was a breeze. I was completely in control of the day. I was freshly showered each morning, I made dinners from scratch each evening, the house was organized and clean, etc....
But back to Ivan. He's supposed to stay in PA until Tuesday, or Wednesday. Let's see how long he lasts. Spending so many days and nights away from us will be too much for him. But since this was a plan that Andy and his mom hatched, I didn't want to get involved. I voiced my concern that that much time away from us may be too much, but didn't press the issue any further.
Sent from my iPhone
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Mama I can fly
It was bedtime. We read a book, turned off the lights and were getting ready to doze off. Or so I thought.
"Mama, I can fly," Ivan announced, wide awake with eyes wide open, startling me from my slumber.
Mama, Emma can't fly.
Only Creighton, Sashi, and Ivan can fly. And Dadda, too.
Mama, you can't fly.
Mama, see I fly like this," Ivan said as he sat up on the bed, extending his arms to show me.
"I fly up up to the sky.
I don't fly down. Only babies fly down."
All that talk came out of nowhere. I was startled and amused. I have no clue where this fly talk came from, but he had obviously given it some thought. It must have been pressing on his mind. Apparently, there are some gender considerations when it comes to flying. Only boys can fly.
It cracked me up because when I was little I could also fly. Or so I thought. In an any case, I have very vivid recollections of how I used to fly down the street, and how I would need to take of.
Sent from my iPhone
"Mama, I can fly," Ivan announced, wide awake with eyes wide open, startling me from my slumber.
Mama, Emma can't fly.
Only Creighton, Sashi, and Ivan can fly. And Dadda, too.
Mama, you can't fly.
Mama, see I fly like this," Ivan said as he sat up on the bed, extending his arms to show me.
"I fly up up to the sky.
I don't fly down. Only babies fly down."
All that talk came out of nowhere. I was startled and amused. I have no clue where this fly talk came from, but he had obviously given it some thought. It must have been pressing on his mind. Apparently, there are some gender considerations when it comes to flying. Only boys can fly.
It cracked me up because when I was little I could also fly. Or so I thought. In an any case, I have very vivid recollections of how I used to fly down the street, and how I would need to take of.
Sent from my iPhone
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Baby or Glowworm
Glowworm is Allen's buddy with whom he falls asleep ever since we transitioned him to the crib a few weeks ago.
They fall asleep side by side. I like to think that Glowworm's music helps soothe Allen. I usually press Glowworm over and over again until Allen rolls over and falls asleep.
For a few days this week, however, I kept pressing Glowworm's chest but he wasn't lighting up and no music was coming out. I was rather confused so I kept pressing it more firmly.
Until I realized: It wasn't Glowworm's but Allen's chest I was pressing. No wonder the baby was looking at me confused with his eyes wide open. That was the thing. The room was dark, and they both have round heads and big eyes...
And I had been living under a delusion that my life and recent return to work were progressing smoothly, that I was on top of things and that I wasn't frazzled one bit.
They fall asleep side by side. I like to think that Glowworm's music helps soothe Allen. I usually press Glowworm over and over again until Allen rolls over and falls asleep.
For a few days this week, however, I kept pressing Glowworm's chest but he wasn't lighting up and no music was coming out. I was rather confused so I kept pressing it more firmly.
Until I realized: It wasn't Glowworm's but Allen's chest I was pressing. No wonder the baby was looking at me confused with his eyes wide open. That was the thing. The room was dark, and they both have round heads and big eyes...
And I had been living under a delusion that my life and recent return to work were progressing smoothly, that I was on top of things and that I wasn't frazzled one bit.
Sent from my iPhone
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Ivan's Party Planning
We haven't been to a birthday party lately (like in a month, or so), but that hasn't deterred Ivan from singing the birthday party song, or just talking about birthdays--they always come with cake..and candles.
The other day, Andy and I were discussing how we are going to handle Allen's birthday(s), considering that they will fall a few days before Christmas--we don't want him to get upstaged by Christmas, although that's probably bound to happen, eventually--and more specifically, what we are going to do for his first birtday party.
Ivan got excited that a birthday party is coming up. Little did he understand that the party itself is more than half a year away.
"Maybe well have French fries for Allen's party," he said.
"Maybe and ketchup," he added.
Of course, one can never have too much ketchup. Or kepops, as he used to say last year.
The other day, Andy and I were discussing how we are going to handle Allen's birthday(s), considering that they will fall a few days before Christmas--we don't want him to get upstaged by Christmas, although that's probably bound to happen, eventually--and more specifically, what we are going to do for his first birtday party.
Ivan got excited that a birthday party is coming up. Little did he understand that the party itself is more than half a year away.
"Maybe well have French fries for Allen's party," he said.
"Maybe and ketchup," he added.
Of course, one can never have too much ketchup. Or kepops, as he used to say last year.
Sent from my iPhone
Fixing it
"Man needs come fix it," Ivan says everytime, which is all the time, he notices broken anything when we're out.
Sent from my iPhone
Ivan: More Sentence Constructions
"Mama, please by me that house," Ivan likes to say as we're in the car driving. I'm not sure why. It's not that he's pointing to a house (or houses) he actually been in. It's just random houses we drive by. I think he just likes to say that phrase. And the fact that he says it in a tiny, polite voice, accentuated with his use of "please" just melts my heart.
"I won't like it," has been getting a lot of use lately, especially when it refers to food I'm trying to get him to try. Exotic stuff, like fruit. :-)
"I won't like it," has been getting a lot of use lately, especially when it refers to food I'm trying to get him to try. Exotic stuff, like fruit. :-)
"Baby doesn't has teef. II have teef." It's always good to differentiate between himself and Allen.
Other than these adorable affirmations, Ivan's speech has gotten really good. He has started to use both the past and future tense, and is speaking in full sentences. Instead of just using the noun and the verb, he's started using prepositions and articles. He's also figuring out pronouns and is using them correctly. He knows when to use them and can juggle them correctly. I'm impressed.
One thing that he has yet to master are irregular verbs. He says: goed, broked, sawd , felled, etc.
And if we could only get his Croatian underway.....When he was smaller and less verbal (as were his daycare peers), his Croatian was more pronounced. He would actually use Croatian words. But now, since English is much more dominant, and let's face it, is much easier to pronounce and juggle grammatically, Croatian has fallen by the wayside. I continue to speak in Croatian and he answers in English. At least I know he understand me. However, I have yet to hear him say a full sentence in Croatian. As he was acquiring words last year, he used to mix the two and create a sentence half in English and half in Croatian. But now, it's just English.
Sent from my iPhone
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Santa gets help from Easter Bunny
Now that both Christmas and Easter are long behind us, Ivan is getting his presents-giving buddies a bit mixed up.
"Easter Bunny must give presents to Santa Claus," according to Ivan.
He has also resorted to calling Santa on the phone.
Whereas before he used to tell Santa to "bring more presents," now he actually has a conversation with Santa. He doesn't say much but rather listens and appropriately interjects, "yes, aha," etc.
He also likes to call Dadda on the phone and talk to him.
He's had quite a few of fullblown pretend phone conversations with Santa and Dadda lately.
Sent from my iPhone
"Easter Bunny must give presents to Santa Claus," according to Ivan.
He has also resorted to calling Santa on the phone.
Whereas before he used to tell Santa to "bring more presents," now he actually has a conversation with Santa. He doesn't say much but rather listens and appropriately interjects, "yes, aha," etc.
He also likes to call Dadda on the phone and talk to him.
He's had quite a few of fullblown pretend phone conversations with Santa and Dadda lately.
Sent from my iPhone
Pee accident: who did it?; Allen rolls over
For his nap, Ivan fell asleep on the footstool in our bedroom instead of his usual couch. My dad transfered him into our bed once was a sleep. While asleep he peed.
"Medic peepeed on the bed," he told my dad when he woke up and my dad asked him about it.
He was embarrased, my dad said.
I have to say, that since he got potty trained in April, he really hasn't had any accidents. I'm very proud of him.
"Medic peepeed on the bed," he told my dad when he woke up and my dad asked him about it.
He was embarrased, my dad said.
I have to say, that since he got potty trained in April, he really hasn't had any accidents. I'm very proud of him.
And in Allen's news: Allen rolled over today. But it scared so promptly started crying. But then he tried it again. So he rolled over twice.
Sent from my iPhone
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Ivan: Example of Current Sentence Structures
"I want nothing else to eat, mama," when Ivan actually is standing at the fridge with the door open, scamming the fridge for something to eat (something being cheese).
"I don't like that," he likes to announce, even if it's something he's never seen or tasted before. It must be a daycare thing.
"Those are my favorite ones," is another variation on the theme above. "Favorite" usually being an item or a food that he has definitely never seen, encountered, tried, etc. before.
"Are you my friend, mama?" is a question that gets posed a lot. Ivan's increasingly getting concerned with who is or isn't his friend. I can't tell whether it's a three year-old thing, a daycare thing, or "mama's spending all her time with the baby" thing.
"Dadda be mad. Dadda be happy," he likes to affirm to himself when he completes something, such as eating his dinner, that he knows will please us.
"I don't like that," he likes to announce, even if it's something he's never seen or tasted before. It must be a daycare thing.
"Those are my favorite ones," is another variation on the theme above. "Favorite" usually being an item or a food that he has definitely never seen, encountered, tried, etc. before.
"Are you my friend, mama?" is a question that gets posed a lot. Ivan's increasingly getting concerned with who is or isn't his friend. I can't tell whether it's a three year-old thing, a daycare thing, or "mama's spending all her time with the baby" thing.
"Dadda be mad. Dadda be happy," he likes to affirm to himself when he completes something, such as eating his dinner, that he knows will please us.
Monday, May 10, 2010
"No"
To a three year-old, the world must consist of one large temptation, which 99% of the time elicits a "no" response from parents.
Over the last few months, Andy and I have both noted that most of our interaction with Ivan consists of us telling him "no." The scopeof "nos" is wide, from minor issues such as telling him not to pick his nose or wipe his mouth with his shirt (this is a recently-acquired daycare behavior, I assume, as he used to be perfectly able to use a napkin for at least a year now), to more phyisical ones, such as not to throw things in the house, jump off the couch, harass Mariposa, etc.
So we both try to limit our "nos," preserving them for safety-related occasions, such as not jumping of the couch, pulling on Allen, throwing stuff at Mariposa, etc....
A new parenting book just came out, recently reviewed on NPR, which instructs parents not to use "no." According to the book, whose title escapes me, too many "nos" limit the child, affecting his self esteem, creativity, curiosity etc. Kids apparently have an internal gage to know not to do really dangerous things that could hurt them.
I'm not sure I can embrace this approach. It's hard not to say "no jumping down the stairs" when it seems pretty obvious to me that he can't jump off the fourth stair safely. And I'd rather limit, if not totally avoid, visits to the ER. If , at all possible, I'd love to avoid bruised and scraped knees, although I know that may be taking it to the safety extreme.
And to Ivan's credit, he is a very cautious, not intensely physical child, who errs on the side of not doing crazy physical things I see his preschools peers undertake.
Over the last few months, Andy and I have both noted that most of our interaction with Ivan consists of us telling him "no." The scopeof "nos" is wide, from minor issues such as telling him not to pick his nose or wipe his mouth with his shirt (this is a recently-acquired daycare behavior, I assume, as he used to be perfectly able to use a napkin for at least a year now), to more phyisical ones, such as not to throw things in the house, jump off the couch, harass Mariposa, etc.
So we both try to limit our "nos," preserving them for safety-related occasions, such as not jumping of the couch, pulling on Allen, throwing stuff at Mariposa, etc....
A new parenting book just came out, recently reviewed on NPR, which instructs parents not to use "no." According to the book, whose title escapes me, too many "nos" limit the child, affecting his self esteem, creativity, curiosity etc. Kids apparently have an internal gage to know not to do really dangerous things that could hurt them.
I'm not sure I can embrace this approach. It's hard not to say "no jumping down the stairs" when it seems pretty obvious to me that he can't jump off the fourth stair safely. And I'd rather limit, if not totally avoid, visits to the ER. If , at all possible, I'd love to avoid bruised and scraped knees, although I know that may be taking it to the safety extreme.
And to Ivan's credit, he is a very cautious, not intensely physical child, who errs on the side of not doing crazy physical things I see his preschools peers undertake.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Birthday parties and cakes
Ivan lucked out today: we went to two birthday parties today, which meant two sets of cakes, with candles and happy birthday songs included.
At Leila's party --held at Wheaton park, with a train and carousel ride included--Ivan was the first one in line to look at the cake when it was brought out. He stood there waiting to see what will happen next and when we'll get to eat the cake. Well there is never any line, it's just Ivan standing there. Although today Seger joined him as well. So they stood there waiting. Finally, the candles were placed, the candles were lit, happy birthday song was sung, and Noel cut the cake. Ivan and Seger were the first to get their cake.
Meanwhile, as soon as the candles were blown out, Bella ran to the table to sit down and wait. She sat down to wait to be served her piece of cake.
Then at Papi's birthday party, Ivan "helped" take out all candles from their boxes and line them up. He then placed them in two cakes. He was very excited when everyone rounded up to sing happy birthday. With Papi, he blew out the candles. Actually, he blew out all the candles. It was endearing to watch him. He was beaming.
Then, after everyone ate their cake, Ivan decided it was presents time. So he took out all the presents and brought them to the center of the room and started opening them, for Papi.
Ivan has gotten really funny with cake. For the last year, as soon as I say "party," he says, "happy birthday, cake, presents."
And for the last few months, every time we have cake at the house, regardless whether it's a special occasion or not, he runs to the closet to get the candles. With Ivan, every desert time has become a special time, a cake time, with candles and singing of the "happy birthday" song.
At Leila's party --held at Wheaton park, with a train and carousel ride included--Ivan was the first one in line to look at the cake when it was brought out. He stood there waiting to see what will happen next and when we'll get to eat the cake. Well there is never any line, it's just Ivan standing there. Although today Seger joined him as well. So they stood there waiting. Finally, the candles were placed, the candles were lit, happy birthday song was sung, and Noel cut the cake. Ivan and Seger were the first to get their cake.
Meanwhile, as soon as the candles were blown out, Bella ran to the table to sit down and wait. She sat down to wait to be served her piece of cake.
Then at Papi's birthday party, Ivan "helped" take out all candles from their boxes and line them up. He then placed them in two cakes. He was very excited when everyone rounded up to sing happy birthday. With Papi, he blew out the candles. Actually, he blew out all the candles. It was endearing to watch him. He was beaming.
Then, after everyone ate their cake, Ivan decided it was presents time. So he took out all the presents and brought them to the center of the room and started opening them, for Papi.
Ivan has gotten really funny with cake. For the last year, as soon as I say "party," he says, "happy birthday, cake, presents."
And for the last few months, every time we have cake at the house, regardless whether it's a special occasion or not, he runs to the closet to get the candles. With Ivan, every desert time has become a special time, a cake time, with candles and singing of the "happy birthday" song.
The land of whys
As of two days ago, it appears that we have entered the land of "why's."
Overnight, every statement we make, every thing we tell Ivan gets a "why" in response.
A conversation with Ivan has become one endless neverneding stream of whys.
Overnight, every statement we make, every thing we tell Ivan gets a "why" in response.
A conversation with Ivan has become one endless neverneding stream of whys.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Friends
Elubody is my friend?
Mama, are you my friend?
Allen's my friend, mama?
Sashi is not my friend. Sashi and Erika don't like me.
I don't like Ms. Yvonne.
Mariposa is our friend.
Only birdies are my friends.
All my friends will come to my party.
The litlle white car had no friends so he had to go hone to play with mamma.
These are just a few of Ivan's proclamations of the last few weeks. They are very emphatically stated.
Apparently the idea of friendship and budding social awareness is big in three year-old's world. And allegiances who's his friend and who isn't vary from day to day. They are also often announced with no precedent.
At first, Andy and I were deeply concerned when he'd say that so and so from daycare is not his friend. This was before we realized the radnomness of such statements. Now we know he may or may not mean them. Or he probably does mean it but he just can't put into words exactly what he's feeling, so saying that someone is not his friend is his attempt of conveying more complex feelings.
"You're not my friend," he told Andy yesterday.
It must be the biggest, most powerful diss in the three year-old's world.
He also keeps insisting that Didi is not his friend. After some proding, he finally admited it's because Didi doesn't play with him. (Didi can't lift him until his stiches heal.)
Mama, are you my friend?
Allen's my friend, mama?
Sashi is not my friend. Sashi and Erika don't like me.
I don't like Ms. Yvonne.
Mariposa is our friend.
Only birdies are my friends.
All my friends will come to my party.
The litlle white car had no friends so he had to go hone to play with mamma.
These are just a few of Ivan's proclamations of the last few weeks. They are very emphatically stated.
Apparently the idea of friendship and budding social awareness is big in three year-old's world. And allegiances who's his friend and who isn't vary from day to day. They are also often announced with no precedent.
At first, Andy and I were deeply concerned when he'd say that so and so from daycare is not his friend. This was before we realized the radnomness of such statements. Now we know he may or may not mean them. Or he probably does mean it but he just can't put into words exactly what he's feeling, so saying that someone is not his friend is his attempt of conveying more complex feelings.
"You're not my friend," he told Andy yesterday.
It must be the biggest, most powerful diss in the three year-old's world.
He also keeps insisting that Didi is not his friend. After some proding, he finally admited it's because Didi doesn't play with him. (Didi can't lift him until his stiches heal.)
Princess
Last week I was in my closet looking through my summer, non-maternity work-wear that I haven't seen or tried on in over a year. As I was trying on a skirt, Ivan walked in.
"Mama, are you a princess," he asked.
"Oh, I'm not a princess," I answered.
"Mama, are you a princess," he asked.
"Oh, I'm not a princess," I answered.
"I'm a baby princess," he then said.
I corrected him that he is a prince, not a princess.
A few days later, I brought it up again, saying "you saw mama try on a skirt and you thought mama was a princess."
"You are a princess," he said.
I didn't know that Ivan was aware of the princess concept. We did read and watch Snow White, but that's the only princess we've encountered at home. But at daycare, a girl named Morgan, whom I don't know but who must have transitioned into their classroom, had a birthday party. She had party favors in a princess bag. So that's were the princess concept comes from. I asked Ivan whether he knows the names of all the princesses on the bag, but he either didn't or wouldn't tell me. I could only recognize two--Snow White and Cinderella, or maybe that was Sleeping Beauty. I'm not sure.
Sent from my iPhone
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
