Not Pregnant

My good friend and I have yet another experience in common:  miscarriage. 

She's in a fog of general malaise, but her boss was super cool and let her take a week vacation (normally this requires oodles of advanced planning). 

I'm sad, she's sad, and her boyrfriend is absolutely beside himself--a big (very big) sniffling mess.  And, he has to go to work; no rest for the wicked. 

Eid-eh Shoma Mobarak

I'm ashamed to say that I know very little about Miss Ladan.  She has always appeared to be so private that I hesitate to ask too many questions.  But, I did discover that she is from Iran a while back.  Today, she had a beautiful spread with wheat spouts, an orchid, and some little cookies.  I asked her about it, and she smiled and told me that today is the Iranian New Year.  I had no idea!  So, of course I Googled it.  What a great holiday!

So, I searched for Hyacinth, but nobody stocks them this time of year.  I substituted with tulips and brought them with me when I picked up Dylan.  She was tickled and spooned us out some of her special recipe - a wonderful chicken with rice.  It tasted like a basmati rice with sumac, lime, and saffron (among other things).  So tangy and amazing!  I'll be sad to not have Miss Ladan in our lives after this.

She also shared her cookies with us.  They are made from chickpeas and taste like nothing I've ever had before - almost like lilac.  Dylan had a little lesson about sharing when I made him share with Blaike.  :)

I Am So In Love!

Sunday morning, I sat Dylan up on the counter while I peeled and cut a mango and some strawberries for breakfast.  He noticed that I hadn't hid the package of chocolate eggs and said:

"Oh, mommy, chock egg.  Wanna chock eggs, pees!  Oh, das ma favert!"

It's the first time he's used the word "favorite" and it tickled me so much that I laughed out loud...and gave him two...before breakfast. 

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Dylan has gotten very expressive and affectionate about his love.  I thought he'd never cross over (in spite of how loud and rambunctious he is with me, he is still a very reserved little guy when it comes to other people, especially those he doesn't see often), but I suppose that an over-abundance of affection pouring into a little one can actually shape the way he expresses love.  He does all kinds of little things that mimic me like:

He'll look up and come running over to me, throwing his arms around me for a hug for no particular reason.

We go back and forth some times confessing our love:  "I love my Dylan!"  "I love my Mommy!"  "I love my Dylan!"  "I love my Mommy!"...and so on.

He not only lets me kiss him, he regularly initiates kisses.  He's stopped biting my arm pit (thank you!) and started kissing it instead when he's super excited (which still makes me very nervous--those bites HURT).  He even does a little "mmmmm" just before he makes contact with his lips...just like I do!

Stomp Stomp Stomp

Up a hill, up a hill, stomp stomp stomp!

It's amazing how much a little ditty can motivate my boy to get moving.  Songs about running, jumping, or walking can get us quite a long way without much fuss.  I remember my father doing endless renditions of "Skip to my Lou" and drills from his navy days, "Left...Left...Left, Right, Left.  GI beans, GI gravy, gee I'm glad I joined the Navy..."  I get it.  I really get it.  Better to go hoarse singing than yelling.  Amen.

Of course, the recent rains provide the best stomping.

Bandaids for Dylan

Emily had a band aid on her forehead this past Tuesday.  Obviously, Dylan coveted that badge of honor for the entire day because that night he insisted that he needed one, too. 

At bath time, he carefully planted his noggin on the edge of the tub and announced, "I bonk ma head!" After a bit of in inquiry, I realized that this wasn't the standard owie that can be kissed away.  At his insistence, I agreed that it would, in fact, require a band aid in spite of the fact that not a single visible mark could be seen by the naked eye.  Some wounds are so deep that only a band aid will help.  Envy is just such a wound.

yup - right here

bonk

He couldn't wait the next morning to get to daycare and show off his new accessory to Miss Ladan and Emily.  He talked about it the whole way there.  Emily's cut was no longer in need of cover, so Dylan got to be the only one sporting a forehead band aid.

But, that evening, much to my surprise, the band aid got wet in the bathtub and had to be removed.  Don't worry, we've got plenty on hand, and I was able to replace it with a new band aid.  Dylan, loving boy that he is, didn't want me to feel left out.  So, he plastered my head with one, too.  No, I don't have photos of that.  We got through Thursday's bath without him noticing the wetness and in the night it fell off and was forgotten.  Until next time.

updated

spreading petals

Caring Boy

As I finished getting Dylan ready for the day, he announced happily, "Ma T-Rex poop!"

"Oh, really?  Did your T-Rex poop?" 

"Need wipe."

"Mmhm.  Get a wipe, then.  I need to get my socks and shoes on so we can go to Miss Ladan's."

And, I set off to get myself ready to shuttle the boy off to daycare.  Have I mentioned that Dylan talks a whole bunch--at times it's a continuous flow of babble that soaks into the fibers of my life.  Sometimes he engages in a conversation with me, but often it's simply a narrative of what is going through his mind and capturing his imagination. 

I am watching him, but not observing.  I register that he's got the wipes and that the words "wipe, T-Rex, and poop" are a constant focus of this morning's narration.  He follows me to my room and through the bathroom, but as I go to collect his socks and shoes, he stays behind in the bathroom.  When I get back to him, Dylan is diligently wiping the T-Rex's butt, telling me all about how he's cleaning up the poop.  It's not an amazing or even particularly touching little slice of life, but I stopped for a moment to just watch him in the midst of caring for his big ugly T-Rex and just smiled.  Then, of course, I scrambled to get my camera. 

What a sweet little man!

Thank You, Barney!

Last night, Dylan asked to watch "Barney."  He must watch it at daycare is all I can think...but, I put it in.  I only wanted him to watch like 15 minutes, so I fast-forwarded (love Netflix) to the last 15 minutes and we sat down on the floor together.  There came a part where the kids all wanted to play "ring around the rosie" and Dylan's head snapped to attention.  "Come on, Dylan!" I said.  "Let's play ring around the rosie!"

So, I grabbed his hands and we did just that.  Turns out, he almost knew the words.  And, like every kid who's ever sung that nasty little ditty, his favorite part is "we all FALL DOWN."  We did it over and over until I was too dizzy to stand.  Yeah!  Now we have a game and a song that we can play.  Thank you, Barney!

Seizure

This is kind of just a note to myself.  Ivan had his first very noticeable seizure in front of Becca today.  He was kneeling eating rice and he stiffened up and jerked a little, making funny noises.  Becca said that he repeated that three times, then looked down and saw that his pillow had moved and said, "Oops, my bad."

Becca texted her mom; her mom told me.  My heart sank.  Becca didn't tell Ivan; she was afraid he'd be embarrassed, or worse angry, at her.  We talked about it between the ogres, goblins, and trolls. 

I called Ivan to ask him about it, but he'd been completely unaware that it had happened.  I told him it would be a good idea to get his levels checked...odds are that he needs to increase one of them if he's had a breakthrough seizure like that.

Moments Like This

Dylan has been a doll lately.  Don't get me wrong--he's a head-strong two year old who is challenging the world around him.  But, lately, I've been seeing a whole new side to him as he stretches his imagination and embraces his voice.

Yesterday, he found a quarter on the floor.

Dylan:  "*sucks in his breath* Oh!  I founna money!  Is ma money!"

Me:  "Wow, you found a quarter, Dylan!  What are you going to do with that money?"

Dylan:  "I gotta money.  I buy gas inna car."

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This morning, he was so snugly and lovey.  I lay down on the floor while he ate some breakfast and watched a little Avatar (I am very happy he's letting me watch this series!).  After a minute, he snuggled into the curve of my sideways lap.  Soon, he was resting on me...then laying with me.  He let me wrap my arm around him and hold him close.  Then, he looked me in the eye and sighed, "Das ma Mommmy."  I said, "MMMmm, that's my Dylan."  He gave me the most amazing smile and snuggled back down.  He repeated this through the whole show, with a few nuzzles in between.  Priceless.

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On the way home from visiting Daddy, Dylan started in on the ogre.  (From "Beware of the Frog").  He kept at it, telling pieces of the story and asking me to repeat the different rhymes that the goblin, troll, and ogre say.  He even knew parts of them and tried to mimic my voice.  I wish I had it on video, him trying to do a goblin's "Nickery-noo, nickery-noo," which comes out more like "Nicka-nicka-noo" when he says it.

Stuck

So, Dylan is playing with his new tracks (yeah!!) and I decide to make a break for the bathroom.  He's very good about that.  I tell him where I'm going and do a little brag on how I'm a big girl so I'll be peeing in the potty...but, I digress.

I am sitting on the toilet--door open--and I hear "Help, mommy."
"I'll be right there, honey.  I'm going peepee in the potty."

"Oh, no!  I stuck!  Oh, no!"

So, I wrap things up and head out to the living room.  Dylan is just standing in the middle of the rug.  He looks at me forlornly, but I see nothing wrong.  Maybe he's playing the 'help me' game.

"I stuck, Mommy."  Dylan tries to lift his foot up, and the carpet comes with it.  He is, indeed, stuck.  The velcro on his shoe is stuck to the floor. 

#11

Rushing to buy that one thing I know Dylan wants.

I'm a total sucker.  If there is something Dylan wants, odds are he's going to get it.  We don't have a lot of toys--I don't see the point of buying them really.  His favorite toy for a long time now has been a stack of foam paper that we cut into shapes.  I believe at this point we have 5 cars, 7 frogs, 10 T-Rexes, 4 stegosauruses, a kangaroo, a dozen trains, and a duck. 

But, once I know he'll like something, I'm almost instantly on Amazon.com getting it for 2-day delivery (which is free on Amazon Mom 'cause I buy my diapers there).  Same goes for impulse buys.  I buy on impulse on occasion and I see no point in not allowing Dylan to choose on impulse just like me.  The other cool thing is that he can pick up something and show it to me so I can admire it and he will actually put it back if I say we aren't going to buy it!!  Well, unless he's too tired.  Then, all bets are off on behavior.

My friends tell me that I give him too many choices and indulge him too much, but I don't agree.  It may feel like he can have anything and everything he wants at the drop of the hat, but really I think my willingness to give in to certain items has made our relationship bloom.  When I do say no, it means no.  There is no amount of begging, crying, or kicking that will change that.  After a couple huge tantrums, he hasn't thrown one worthy of mention.  He asks for what he wants, I consider it, and I acquiesce or deny him.  I think he's actually quite well-behaved for a two year old. 

I mention this because Dylan's new train tracks just came to my doorstep.  I'm so excited for him to get home and play with them!!

Pregnant!

One of my best girlfriends is pregnant and I am unreasonably excited.

She called to tell me she thinks she is late.  Now, this isn't a huge deal because her cycles are sometimes irregular.  Then, the nausea sets it...so, I went to the drug store on my way home from picking up Dylan and got the top-of-the-line EPT three pack. 

Because we are good friends, I huddled in the tiny bathroom with her while she dutifully peed on her stick, and then snatched the germ-infested thing from her hands as soon as it was capped.  Immediately, I saw a shadow.  I knew. 
"Oh, Oh, Oh." I said. 
"Stop it, be serious, Rachel."  she said.  Then the shadow left.

I rushed to the wall, flipping the switch up and down, "Where the hell is the light?!  I'm serious, I think you are pregnant!"

By this time, she'd gotten her pants back on and was peering over my shoulder at the one line on her test.  "I don't see it."  We were both giggling nervously.

Then, the second line started to darken. 

"Oh.  My. God.  You are totally pregnant. HaHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"No, how do you know?"

"See that second line?"

"No, what are you talking about?"

"Look, it's getting darker.  Ok, NOW look.  There is no way you can't see that now."

I jumped up and wrapped my arms around her, squealing and giggling.  At this point, the second line is as dark as the first.  No room to wonder.

In case you are thinking of asking...no, it's not planned.  But, it's not unwanted, either.

I already see a change in her, a softness in her face, a secret smile curled on the edge of her mouth.  Her boyfriend is already blustery and proud and worried about her all at the same time.