It's me

On Sunday my parents and Ivan were at the front door knocking and waiting for me to come down the stairs to let them in.

Mariposa, of course, was barking at the door.

On the other side of the door, Ivan was yelling "Popo, it's me. It's me, Popo."

I though this was endearing.

Allen

Allen was born last tuesday at 11:46pm. His weight was 7 lbs 12 oz and height 21 inches.

As soon as he was born and Andy cut the cord, the nurse wiped the baby a bit and handed him to me. So I got to hold him as soon as he was born ( I didn't get to do that with Ivan as the NICU teamhad to examine him first because he was blue with the cord wrapped around his neck.)

Unlike Ivan, who immeadiately looked plump and mature, Allen looks like a little newborn. He's also very wrinkly and flaky like most newborns . Apparently, overdue babies are more flaky than those born on time or before. He is a very loud baby. He makes all these little noises and grunts both asleep and awake that are really endearing.

Those first few days I felt confused how to think about ivan and Allen. I immediately started comparing Allen to Ivan, which I realized wasn't right or fair . I kept looking at Allen, this new little stranger, wondering how I'll love him as much as Ivan. Then when I'd think about Allen , I felt guilty like I was betraying ivan because I wasn't thinking about him. And vice versa. But now a few days later all these thoughs seem silly. I have bonded with Allen and it's the most natural feeling to love them both.

Labor lasted some 6 plus hours, which was a fraction of time spent in labor with Ivan. Pushing lasted some 16 minutes and then Allen was born. I was completely coherent and present for the entire event. Both Andy and I were shocked how quickly everything unrolled.

At 10:45 I was some 6 cm dilated so, believing that we still had hours to birth, i tried to talk Andy into coming home to check on mariposa who had been home alone for some 12 hours. The nurse wisely suggested to wait until the doctor checks me again. At 11:10-15 the doctor said I was fully dilated and that it was time to push. I was surprised. With Ivan I felt a strong urge , a need, to push unlike this time. I guess the epidural was working better.

Ambivalent to the end, I acquiesced to be induced. I basically gave in. It was a voluntary induction and the nurses, resident doctor and attending doctor gave me time to decide how to proceed because as soon as we arrived to the hospital I was rather vocal about my ambivalence. But the proceeded with the admittance process, hooked me up to monitors to check mine and baby's vitals, did a sonogram to check the status of placenta and amniotic fluid etc. Then they said that the amount of fluid is borderline at 7.6 of some units, while 8-15 is healthy and below 5 is bad. So then they recommended to have the induction. The baby's heart rate also apparently dropped or fluttered at some point which got them concerned.
Andy was for the induction--saying it's controlled and there are fewer wild cards to deal with, considering the weather, season, etc and the fact that I'm a week overdue-- and eventually got upset with me saying that we shouldve not come to the hospital in the first place if I didn't want to proceed. He also thought I shouldve stood up for myself more if I felt so strongly. In retrospect had dr. Bowles assistant not called on Friday to confirm the induction, I probably wouldve backed out. But her phone call kind of startled me and considering that weekend's approaching snowstorm it was easy to say yes. It turns out, according to dr Bowles that she told the assistant that I may call to confirm or cancel not to have her call me. Who knows what the truth is. However, Ive more or less made my peace with the induction only because the entire process ended reasonably well . Had it ended in a c-section I'd feel very differently now. Also I am pretty sure i had started getting a few natural contractions before they hooked me up to pitocin so I'd like to think that labor was about to start anyway.
It's true that pitocin induced contractions are stronger and come on closer together than the natural ones. Also they strarted turning up the pitocin to mimic natural labor, which I wasn't thrilled with. At one point, the nurse said I wasn't responding to pitocin as well as other women so they had to turn it up.
I finally gave in to an epidural around 10pm because the pain was getting unbearable. Contractions were so strong, long and close together that I couldn't take it any more, especially since I feared that I had hours of labor ahead of me and since the nurse kept jacking up the pitocin saying that contractions aren't as strong eNough as they ought to be for me to continue dilating. Now in retrospect I wonder whether I couldve endured without the epidural had I known it was going to be over in another hour and a half.

A few days ago, I exchanged emails with angela. She was also late and delivered a day before I did, naturally with a midwife. I can't wait to talk to her to get more details. A part of me is a tad envious because she stood up for herself, switched to a midwife and got the birth she wanted. It makes me wonder should I have stuck it out longer and waited for labor to come naturally.

Eight Days Overdue

It's Tuesday, December 22. The baby was due last Tuesday. But no sign of labor yet. After those two initial bouts of contractions, nothing, despite walking, squatting and sex. He's been doing some serious baby calisthenics and acrobatics in the womb, my lower back has been hurting a lot and I can feel things moving and spreading in my pelvic floor for the last few weeks, but no contractions.

Today, I'm scheduled to go to the hospital for an induction. I had mixed feelings about it when we scheduled it last Tuesday at the last doctor's visit, and still have mixed feelings about it. I've been skirting them under the rug this entire week because I truly believed that the baby would initiate labor on his own so I didn't trully have to address them head on. The prospect of the actual induction wasn't really real, until now. It's about two hours before we need to head to the hospital and no signs of labor yet.

I'm ambivalent about the induction for several reasons:

-I don't like the idea of this birth being a scheduled, predetermined event. It feels like a forced extraction, almost akin to scheduling a tooth extraction, not a natural process.

-I don't like the idea of me arbitrarily deciding on the baby's date of birth. (Although at least I picked 22, which is one of my favorite numbers, ever since Maca and I started playing the lucky 22 and unlucky 33 game in our childhood.)

-By controling the course of events now, I feel like I've actually lost control.

-If it's ultimately the baby who sets the birthing process in motion when he's ready, is this baby ready? What if he's not?

-Is it really needed? Or should I wait a few more days for the baby to arrive on his own? The entire "yoga" midwife-y crowd from my yoga class would be aghast that I'm having an induction after only being one week over due. A big part of me agrees with them. But another part of me is beginning to freak out why this baby isn't coming yet. Is everything OK with him? They would say that it's not unusual for a baby to be a week or two weeks late.

-If the baby isn't ready, will this induction end up in a C-section? It's not that I'm afraid of a C-section in a case of emergency, but I would really like not to have to end up needing one. And according to information I've read and heard, the incidence of needing a C-section as a result of an induction is higher because the baby and the body aren't ready for the process yet. (I'm not sure what the stats are with overdue babies.) But if I don't have this induction, and the baby continues to grow inside my womb, what if he gets too big for me to push him out and I end up needing a C-section anyway? It's apparently a possibility. Two weeks ago, the doctor said the baby is probably in the high 7 lbs range, whereas last week she said he's probably in the mid-7 lbs range. In other words, she wasn't 100 percent sure. So it's possible that the baby is larger or smaller. Since Ivan was 8.5 lbs when he was born, and this pregnancy has been pretty much similar to Ivan's and I've gained the same amount of weight, I assume that the baby's weight will be close to Ivan's. I've also been more relaxed in terms of food this time and have been eating a much more fatty and sugary dessert-laden diet, so I fear the baby is bigger than Ivan was.

-If this were my first baby, maybe I would feel more open to the need for induction. But since Ivan's birth, no matter how long and painful, proceeded relatively naturally and was set in motion on his due date, I really haven't been mentally prepared for this.

I'm beginning to understand all those women, including Angela, who feel that they were cheated out of birthing. This is not how I wanted this process to go, nor did I think this would happen in a million years.

It also shows me that no matter how and how much one prepares for the pregnancy and birth, being pregnant and giving birth is still a wild card.

I was glad, however, that I didn't go into labor over the weekend during the snow storm. That would've been awful.

Two days over the due date

It's been two days over my due date and this baby is showing no signs of being ready to come out. I haven't had any contractions since Tuesday morning. However, he does seem to be moving less these last two days so maybe he's getting ready for his birth journey.

We went for some nonstress test sonogram today where the technician thoroughly checked out the baby. All looked good

I'm slowly getting over my anticipation stage. It's like I'm surrendering to a thought that labor will never start. Odd thought. We've scheduled an induction for tuesday although I'm not fully sure that I want to be induced. I really want it to happen naturally. I'll see where things will stand on Monday.

Since this birth seems to be imminent any day now, Ivan has been staying with my parents since Tuesday . We're trying to keep up his routine so he's been going to daycare this week. It's really hard not to see him for two days. And it's very empty and quiet in the house.

My dad and he stopped by the house for about one hour this evening so we could see him and also because they had to go and pick up my mom from some holiday party.

Every time I see Ivan after not being with him for a few days, it feels like he's a little stranger who at first reluctant to come to me. Like this evening, he wanted to eat so we first went to wash hands, except he didn't want to. He went to the bathroom but didn't want to wash hands. I had to take his hands and force him to wash them. That was so unlike him.
Eventually, he warms up to me and things are like before. But every time he comes back from spending a few days at my parents house he's like that. I feel estranged from him at first. Andy said the same thing-- that he feels like a little stranger at first .

One on hand, I'm glad that he's so comfortable being with my parents and that, if we need to, he can stay with them without being fussy. But on the other hand, it's so hard to feel like at first he rejects me when he sees me again. Especially now, when for the last few months he's been on a huge "mama, my mama" fest where everything seems to revolve around me.

Everyone has also warned me that he'll probably act cold and estranged from me when the baby arrives because he'll be mad at me. I hope that's not the case.

Pregnancy: where's the baby

My due date is today. It's almost the end of the day and this baby is showing no signs of wanting to be born yet.

I had some contractions last Friday afternoon while Ivan, my dad and I were at Ikea so that Ivan can run around. They lasted for about one hour and then dissipated. (this was good because I was afraid that we'd end up driving to Georgetown in rush hour traffic, which would've been dreadful).

Then contractions returned for about one hour this morning at 4 am, which was about the time contractions with Ivan started. I got excited, but then they went away as well. And nothing since. Otherwise, for the last week I've been feeling like things are slowly shifting. It's like the tectonic plates are coming apart. I'm also almost 3 cm dilated and 75 percent effaced, as per today's ob appointment. So I much further along than I was with Ivan when contractions started.

The ob thinks the baby could come tonight. But she also thought that I would've delivered by now. So did I. I was convinced the baby would be here by now. I've been ready since last Monday , after I finished the last big thing at work. I worked until thursday ( the last two days from home) and even signed off early on Thursday because I started gettting a bad headache in early afternoon, which I though was the first sign of imminent labor since that was how it started with Ivan. But no.

So I've been waiting, which is really hard for me to do since patience is not my virtue. Good thing I've learned how to knit. It's a perfect activity to keep an idle and impatient person busy. I feel like a character from a quirky movie, where I keep knitting and knitting and end up knitting a scarf so long it goes on for miles.

And this baby is rather active. His feet are at the very top of my uterus and keep kicking my diaphragm while the head is low in the pelvic cavity, pressing on the bladder and the pelvic floor. He's been inthis position for weeks now. And the nonstop baby calisthenics are getting to be really uncomfortable, at times painful, and more vigorous.

Who knows maybe he's buying his time coming out because we really hadn't settled on a name until yesterday. We're still not 100% sure but we're closer than we were. That's at least a theory I could see the yoga teacher saying
.

IPhone blogging

Just downloaded an iPhone app to be able to write posts from the phone. Now i'm testing whether it's working.

Heigh hos

When my mom takes Ivan for a walk around their neighborhood, they encounter numerous tacky front yard decorations, including some standard garden gnomes.

This prompted my mother to start singing the "Heigh, Ho" song from Snowwhite and the Seven Dwarfs and to She couldn't remember the lyrics or anything beyond the Heigh, Ho refrain.

But Ivan started singing Heigh Hos, so I decided to try to find that song on that treasure trove called Youtube from my iphone.

And there it was. Not just the Heigh Ho song which the dwarves sing while they're working in a mine, but also the song where they sing/dance with Snowwhite, and the one where they wash their faces.

Now, Ivan loves to watch these three videos on my phone.

"Heigh Hos, mama, find Heigh Hos," he asks me. He's particularly fond of the "Dancing Heigh Hos."

"Dancing Heigh Ho, find dancing Heigh Hos, mamma," he asks repeatedly.

I'm not sure whether he likes that video because the dwarves are dancing or because they play different instruments. It's probably a bit of both. I just recall him being fascinated with the instruments on that Josh Groban concert we watched on PBS a few months back. We need to take him to a live music performance, preferably a free one, a performance that's part of some outdoor festival, or maybe some high school production. I think he would enjoy it.


We've been listening to Heigh Hos for a while now. I've been using these videos to divert attention from from doing something he's not supposed to, and, more importantly, to get him to calm down and rest, and, cross my fingers, fall asleep when it's nap time. Since this summer it's been virtually impossible for me to get Ivan to go down for a nap. But when we sit on the leather couch and watch Heigh Hos, he occasionally does relax and fall asleep for a two+ hour nap.

The only problem with Heigh Hos is that occasionally the Youtube app doesn't work, which can be a major problem and disappointment for Ivan.

Buggies

I think that definitely my favorite recent mommy moment happened on Friday evening.

Ivan's nose has been slighly snotty over the last few days with an ocassional rivulet of clear snot protruding from his right nostril. Not the most appealing sight, but still definitely far from the excessively and continuously snotty noses many other toddlers are accessorized with year round. This used to gross me out before I had kids, and still continues to gross me out today. (Snotty noses are right up there with sticky hands and food smeared mounths.)

Eventually, the snot in question coagulated into a buggy which I could see in his nose. I tried all day Friday to get him to blow his nose, which he adamantly refused to do.

He was trying to pick the nose himself to get the buggy out. (This is something new he's been doing for the last few weeks. And when he succeeds, he triumphantly hands me the buggy. "Buggy, mama.")

But the Friday buggy was unpickable. So I attempted to pick the buggy out of his nose. It became my obession for the day. "No touc ma buggy," was the response I got every time.

This futile buggy picking went on the entire day.

That evening we went out to eat to a local Thai restaurant. The small, narrow, mom and pop restaurant was packed. The crowd was probably heavier than usual because the place had just been named the best Thai food in town.

Also, it was a bit later in the evening than would have been optimal for taking Ivan out to eat, but we hedged our bets. He was more or less cooperative, not on his best behavior but definitely far from a full tempter tantrum.

And then Ivan decided to get the buggy out. With no success.

"Ma buggy, mama, my buggy mama."

He wanted my help.

By now, the thing was humungous and crusty and well implanted in his nostril. But I was thrilled to finally be able to get this buggy picking mission accomplished.

So, in the middle of this small packed restaurant with people enjoying their Friday evening dinner, here's a mom picking her toddler's nose.

I tried being discreet, shielding his face and nose with my body and one hand, while doing the picking with the other.

It wasn't a smooth operation. The buggy was huge and well encrusted.

It took me a few tries to get a good grip on it to yank it out of Ivan's nose. It must have hurt as he got vocal about it, which probably attracted additional unwanted eyes to us.

But finally the mission was accomplished. The buggy was out and Ivan's nose was clear. And it a few Friday night dinners got spoiled in the meantime, oh well.

Recent Conversations with Ivan

Over the weekend I jotted down some of the current growing repertoire within Ivan's vocabulary.

He's increasingly stringing words together into sentences, both in English and Croatian, is trying to hold conversations with us, and likes to asks questions, or more precisely, ask the same question over and over and over again. He also promptly repeats, and misprononouces, everything we say:


Counting:
"4, 5, go" (which seems to have replaced the "ready, 4, 10")
"4, 5, 6, 'leven"

Conversation and question sample:
"Pour me jos sok."
"You need jos sok, mama?"
(Pour me more juice. YOu need more juice, mama?)
Sometimes he says "more juice" instead of "jos sok"; he uses Croatian and English interchangeably.

"Dat one not yours. Dat mines."
(This one is not yours. This one is mine.)

"Dat dadas."
(That's dadda's.)

"Ladies ciste ma kucu."
(Ladies are cleaning my house.)

"You have aqilo bite?"
(Do you have a mosquito bite?)

"You have a socks."
(You have socks.)


"Mama, open dat light."
"Mama, offed dat light."
(Turn the light on. Turn the light off)

"You cooking, mama?"
"Yes, I'm cooking."
"You cooking, mama?" he repeats the question, over and over again, as he's watching me cook.

Or the newest acquisition from yesterday when he woke up cranky.

"NO! Don't look me."

This pregnancy

is definitely harder on my body than Ivan's was. And it's so true that all the aches, pains, ailments and a multitude of previously not experienced issues is hitting me sooner.

First, the entire sneeze/pee combo, otherwise known as stress incontinence, is really getting old. It hit me much sooner than last time. Hopefully, it will go away after birth.

Then, two Fridays ago, I failed the 1-hour glucose test, which meant I then had to take the 3-hour test. This included fasting the night before, and getting poked with a needle four times in three hours. For the last week, I've looked like a beaten up junkie with black and blue bruises up and down my arms. However, no one has called me to tell me I failed that test, so I assume that my sugar levels are OK.

Then, for the last month or so, I've been experiencing this increasingly painful pelvic pain. I first heard it mentioned by a yoga teacher. Then I mentioned it to the obgyn. They both dismissed it with a wave of their hand. Oh, it must be pubic synthesis, or the stretching of the pubic bones....or something similar. Wikipedia had a nice long medical entry on it. Well, this pubic synthesis is slowly but progressively getting unbearably painful, especially after I sit for long periods of time or get up in the morning.

And according to wikipedia and babycenter.com there doesn't really seem to be much I can do about it, but just weight it out. It may get worse before it gets better. And it may takes months after delivery for the pain to go away. Basically, I need to try to move my legs together as one unit. And apparently, yoga or swimming may help, which I don't understand how because most yoga poses and swimming are all about spreading legs apart to create space for the baby.

I hope it stabilizes because this evening, I can barely walk.

Who knows maybe all this pain and stretching now will make the actual birth easier, which, after 56 1/2 hours of labor, definitely wasn't the scenario with Ivan.

You know it's bad

that the house is in disarray when your two and a half year-old spontaneously declares one evening, "yucky house," as Ivan did last night.

I was floored.

He, of course, repeated it first thing this morning. "Yucky house."

Now, the term "yucky" has entered his vocabulary in the last few weeks, and everything he doesn't want to eat (or he half ate) or things that he thinks are dirty, he declares "yucky."

However, this was the first time he used it to describe the house. And the house was truly yucky. It was very messy and it hadn't been cleaned in two weeks. The cleaning ladies were supposed to come on Friday but I had to cancel them. Andy and I were so busy with work this past week that we (or shall I say I) had really let the house go.

I just never expected Ivan to care and to declare "yucky house."

However, he is much more observant and aware of things that we give him credit for. As I guess all toddlers do, he notices and stores information to retrieve it at a much later date. It's happened several times now that he's shocked me with something that I didn't expect him to know or understand.

The First Why and Where?

"Why did Posa eat her din, dins?" Ivan asked pointing to Mariposa's food dish, while we were getting ready for work/daycare this morning.

His first why question.

This was followed by a "Where is box?" a some time later, while he was holding the key to the black jewelry box, which I don't use, and which is one of his toys instead. He wanted to practice locking and locking it. (The locking fascination runs close to the wires, plugs and general "boops" fascination)

His first where question.

In general, since last night, I noticed a huge leap in Ivan's speech. I was astonished. Overnight, he's become so much more verbal and articulate. He no longer says words, but attempts full sentences and narrates things. We can actually hold a conversation.

His attempted sentences are half in English, half in Croatian, sometimes all in English, other times all in Croatian. But nevertheless, full sentences.


I didn't see him for about 24 hours on Sunday-Monday, because he spent Sunday night and Monday day at my parents house. When I saw him again on Monday night, and especially again when he woke up this morning, he was a completely new kid.

For example, on Monday evening when we were at the Silver Spring water fountain, he pointed to a stroller and said "baby sleeping, baby has no shoes."

This morning, he woke up at 5:40 and proceeded to talk to himself and Medic in his crib. Some 15 minutes later, he was done with the crib and wanted to come to our bed. Since it was still pitch black outside, I convinced him that he should continue sleeping (because the crickets, which come out at night, were still singing). He laid still, more or less, but continued whispering to himself and Medic. He was practicing talking. It was too low for me to discern any actual words, although he was right by my ear, but still I could tell he was practicing talking.

Then around 6:10 he declared: "No more sleeping." It was time to get up and go "dole."

(Also, when we were at the pool on Saturday, after 30 minutes of class time, he declared, "I finished," and insisted on getting out of the pool).

Mr. Social

This past Sunday we went to the playground. We missed the last few playground Sundays because we were either away (like the previous Sunday at the beach) or other moms weren't there. So we hadn't seen our neighborhood friends for a few weeks.

As always, we was excited to go to the playground. Since I expected the same scenario that had been playing itself over the summer where we get to the playground and then he sits in his stroller, observing kids and crying "kuci, mamma, kuci," I didn't think about it too much.

Except this time, he actually got out of the stroller and sat next to me on the playground edge for a few minutes before wandering off to play and interact with kids.

I was thrilled. The shy spell must be over. I actually read on BabyCenter recently that the wanting to go home behavior could be a sign that a child is stressed-out about a situation. I don't know why he could've been unconfortable at the playground but I'm glad I didn't push him over the summer.

On our way home from the playground, we swung by the other smaller playground that's closer to our house. He wanted to go down the slides. He first went down the little slides a few times, like he's done numerous time before. Then he climbed up to the big, twisty slide. The one I always have to come down with him. So down we went. But then, he climbed up again to go by himself. Several times. Again, I was thrilled. He had been slide-averse for the last few months and had never wanted to go down the twisty slides by himself. And now he did it.

All it its own time.

Latest Ivanisms

Ivan has become quite a little chatterbox.

He practices talking to himself, talking to his toys, talking to Medic. It becomes a random hodge-podge of words and phrases he's heard us use, and he repeats things he heard a while back. He also practices things he's heard in daycare. He practices his interaction with other kids or teachers. It's really cute. And so obvious that that's what he's doing.

It's also clear that in daycare they're teaching them colors and numbers. And he obviously has absolutely no concept of either. They must be working on the color "green." According to Ivan, everything is green, including all the things that are not.

The same goes for numbers. For a while now, he'll count "one, three, nine," or some other number combination.

This week's favorite has been "Didi, leady, four, ten," as he'd try to tell my dad, "ready, one, two, three," when they were playing with the ball.

He's still mixing up English and Croatian in the same sentence. He understand both and can "talk" in both. However, lately I'm noticing that English is becoming a bit more dominant. It makes sense. The pool of English speakers around him is much wider and during the week he's more exposed to English than to Croatian. But that's OK.

A selection of recent random Ivan phrases:

"Didi sjekao notkici"

"Yucky cips."

"Drinking a voda."

"Do dat, dadda"

"No bones, Popo."

"Move grass."

"No touc it"

"No go kuci," as he kept insisting today as we were driving home from daycare.

And the all time favorite: "My do dat."

Swim Lesson

I signed up Ivan for swim lessons. Our first lesson was last Saturday at Maryland. Since the indoor pool was undergoing some serious cleaning, the first lesson was scheduled at the outside pool. This probably sounded like a swell idea when they were preparing the schedule. However, last week the weather turned cold.

(It was actually kind of perfect timing. Labor Day weekend Sunday, the weather was perfect and we went to the beach. More on that later. But Monday turned cold and rainy. As if on cue, it signalled the unofficial end of summer and the beginning of another year--school year, professional year, fall, etc.)

So the Saturday in question was cloudy. The temperature barely rose to 64 degrees by 9:30 a.m. when the lesson started. Luckily, the pool was nicely heated to a comfortable 83 degrees.

Based on Ivan and Andy's previous pool excursions and his delight at being at the beach the weekend before, I hoped he'll love the swim lesson, but I wasn't sure.

There were several classes taking place simultaneously--parent and tot (our class), three year-olds, four year-olds, etc. swim lessons.

Our tot class had some 8 parent-tot couples.

Instructors wanted the kids to walk into the pool themselves, instead of being carried. Ivan, of course, refused. He insisted I "dingut, dingut," him. Our instructor came to help to lure him into the pool, but he basically shooed her off. So I releted and carried him in.

Once in the pool, he loved it. We had a wonderful time. He was beaming with joy. The instructor had us do all sort of get your-kid-accustomed-to-the-water games. They included the wheels on the bus, where we walked in circle spashing water around, lifting the child up and down in the water, etc. We also played Humpy Dumpy Sat, where we sat the child on the pool edge and then let him fall back into the water int our arms. We also got little watering buckets to dump water on the child, or let the child dump the water on the parent. Then the instructor gave us foam letter to throw in front of us in the water and have the child reach for them. This idea was swell, except that all kids, including Ivan, held tight onto those letter and would let them go. "Mine, mine."

Then everyone started getting cold. Being in the water was a bit less fun. So after half an hour, the lesson ended. But we had a great time. I can't wait to take him back on Saturday.

I, however, felt like a humongous duck. My bathing suit, which fit OK the week before, was suddenly snug. I felt like boobs were flying everywhere and the tankini top kept riding up my belly. At first I was self-conscious but then I hoped that no one really cared nor paid attention to me. Everyone was engrossed in their own kid.

My parents came along for the lesson as Andy was working. I was glad they came. They also had a blast watching Ivan enjoy himself so much in the pool.

Is Medic a Girl?

Over the last month or so, Ivan has rechristened Medic into Mimi. Actually, he refers to the stuffed bear as both, sometimes it's Medic, other times it's Mimi.

I'm stumped. When and why did the change occur? I'm not sure.

However, Ivan and Medic continue to be inseparable, although Medic is, once again, stinky. He's due for another spa treatment, e.g. a cold water, gentle spin in the washer, and a thorough drying in the dryer.

Now Ivan talks to Medic ("no cry, Mimi, no cry") or talks about Medic ("Medic crying, change diapers Medic"....)

He also plays with him, this often means he also inadvertently sweeps the floor him.

Medic also gets pretend-fed and gets his diapers changed, for real. He even sometimes gets "everywhere," otherwise known as underwear.

Falling

Yesterday, while crossing the street, I apparently didn't raise my foot high enough to get on the sidewalk so I tripped and fell flat on my face.

Did I fall of my belly, someone asked. Of course, how could I avoid it! I badly bruised my knees; one just got scraped, but the other one is rather skinned, with a big red bloody mark on it. No bleeding however.

Ivan, the bandaids king was very excited to see that mamma has a bubu and a bandaid.

I blame heat, as well as my huge tights, which don't let me make big strides any more for the fall. And of course, there is the stomach itself. And there is just my natural clutziness. Last time I tripped and fell walking down the street 10 years ago in Boston, I broke two fingers. This time I just scraped the knees.

However, I was badly shaken. But since I wasn't bleeding or experiencing any out-of-ordinary aches and pains, I decided there was on point on going for a doctor check up.

That's what the amniotic sack is for, as several people, including my mom said, to cushion the baby.

I hope this baby is OK. Between Mariposa and Ivan inadvertently jumping and sitting on my stomach all these months, and now this fall, this baby has been in for one rough belly ride.

Potty Training Bootcamp, Take 2, 3

Yesterday, the potty training sergeant was Andy. The pattern basically repeated itself:

Andy and Ivan got up around 6:30. They went downstairs to eat. They returned upstairs to change for the day. After some back and forth, Andy got Ivan to put on a pair of underwear.

They went to the basement to play. Ivan peed and pooped in the pants but didn't say anything. They came back upstairs to change. He sat on the potty when we took his pants off, but there was nothing to pee or squeeze out. All had been done. Lots of pee and the same bean paste as the day before. Andy offered to wash it off (yeah!).
I cleaned Ivan in the meantime.

We haggled over underwear. Ivan didn't want to put them on. Andy convinced him to. Then he left to walk Mariposa. Not even five minutes later, wearing a new pair of underwear and shorts, Ivan peed on the bedroom floor.

"Ah," he said when he saw the pee puddle at his legs.

I changed him into a fresh pair of underwear. Since we were down to one pair of clean shorts, I let him just wear underwear. I also figured he may be more likely to say something, if he needs to go potty. We played in the room for a while and then went to the basement to put a load of wash to dry and another one to wash.

In the time that it took me to put a load in the dryer and another in the washer, Ivan peed again. Another floor puddle. "Ah," he said again.

So off to the bedrooms we returned. I changed him and cleaned him. He wouldn't let me put another pair of underpants on, so I let him run around naked. An half an hour later, when he had to pee again, he went to the potty and peed.

So, basically, if he's naked he'll use the potty, but if he's wearing underpants, he will just go in his pants.

Some time later, while I tried to on another pair of underpants, he insisted "mamma, cange diaper, cange diaper, cream, wipes." He then brought me a diaper, his butt cream and wipes.

It was 11 a.m. again and I capitulated. I put him in diapers for the rest of the day. I also really had no more clean underpants and shorts.

Today:
More or less, the same scenario. Ivan peed in his clothes. Andy brought him up to change him. While we were in the process of changing him and he was naked, he ran to the potty to poppy and pee. (A nice hard turd. Why couldn't he have pooped them yesterday and Friday!) We ceremoniously flushed the poop in the toilet.

We dressed him in clean clothes, and he basically peed his pants two more times. On our 4th pair of clean clothes for the morning, I took a gamble to take him to the playground, wearing underwear. Just in case, I brought a clean pair of shorts and a diaper along.

We were at the playground for one and a half hours. No wet spots. I was pleased. I put him in the stroller and went home. When we got home, some 5-10 minutes later, there was a bit wet spot on his butt. He had peed in the stroller without saying anything.

"No wewe," he said when I changed him.

I aborted the potty training mission and put diapers on since we were driving to my parents' house. I didn't want to risk a big pee stain on the car seat.

I also took this morning's assortment of soiled shorts and underpants to my mom's to wash, since he was out of clean shorts again. Ivan's spending the night at their house and the day with my dad. I gave him thorough instructions of how to attempt potty training, however, knowing my dad, I doubt he'll follow through. No, he'll have a better way, his way of doing it because, of course, my way is probably inadequate.

Ivan's art

When I picked up Ivan from daycare on Wednesday, he insisted I lift him up near his basket (where all his belogings are). On the wall above it, was a collage. He wanted to show me. He was very proud of it.

"Should we take it home," I asked. "No, no, leave it," he said. So we did.

Andy said he did the same thing last week. Every day, he'd point to his artwork, which was hanging on some mobile in the classroom. (I assume it was drying out.)

On Thursday, both of us picked him up. He insisted Andy lifts him up to where his basket was. He wanted to show dadda the collage as well.

Andy said it was the same piece he was pointing out last week.

This is a new development -- Ivan being so proud of his creation and wanting to show it to us.

Our first baby conversation

Yesterday, when we went to pick up Ivan from daycare, Emma, a cute talkative three-year old in Ivan's class, was showing us her "baby." A doll she had put under her shirt. I don't know if she has a younger sibling or not.

Today, Ivan got his stuffed dolphin and stuck it under his shirt. "My baby, my baby," he told me. Had I not seen Emma do this yesterday, I would've been concerned where he got it from. But it made sense.

"Mamma has a baby in her belly, too," I took the opportunity to tell him. It was our first baby conversation. I'm sure he has no clue what it actually means, but he did show interest in my growing stomach and the baby that's inside.

Maybe this makes more sense to him now, than our elusive "don't hit mamma on the belly, gentle with mamma, etc" warnings.

I suspect that he's been aware for at least a month now that something is going on with mamma. Ever since the sonogram to which both he and Andy came, he's been acting more clingy around me. When I hold him, he doesn't just relax and lay limp in my arms, but rather hugs me back with all this toddler plump might.

I especially noticed it this week at daycare. Each morning when we dropped him off, he really didn't want to let go of me. When he saw me in the afternoon, he'd rush to me and hug me real tight. He'd rush to me past Andy, even though in the past he'd always primarily go to him not me, since he's the primary daycare drop-offer and picker-upper. And Ivan, like all toddlers, is all about a routine.