It's a good thing...

...that Ivan is cute.

Husband dropped him off this afternoon, and Ivan was talking about the new friend he had met - that would be Katie, Husband's new chick. Ivan met her for the first time today. At first he wanted to call her "Mommy," because she has the same name as me - that didn't really bother me, because when he's referring to me he usually calls me "My Mommy." Very possessive. He's still working out what it means to be a mommy, or be called mommy, or be someone else's mommy, etc.

So, he was cute about it, obviously repeating verbatim what Husband had said about "our new friend." And commenting particularly that she had brought him a lollypop. And then he started calling her "New Katie" to differentiate from me.

Then later as we're walking into town, holding hands, he asked, "Where's Daddy?" - a typical question until he settles into whatever house he's in. No, actually, he said, "Where's Daddy at?" in true Philadelphia style.

I said, "Daddy's at home." Ivan replied, "Oh, Daddy have new Katie." "Yep," I said, "New Katie."

Ivan said, "Daddy have new Katie." Then he said –

-- wait for it --

"I have Old Katy."

BIG Patience

I took Ivan to Friendly's for dinner tonight. He ate his cheeseburger and some of his fries, and then since he'd gotten a kid's meal, the waitress went to go get him some ice cream.

As he was waiting for his ice cream, sitting across the booth from me, Ivan folded his hands on the table and said, "I have BIG patience."

Jungle Drums

Sometimes I see a photo of my son from when he was a little tiny baby, and I find that I miss him - as if he has become a completely different person. Which I suppose he has. And a fabulous person, at that. But... I miss my baby. I guess that's why people have more than one child.

Crazy people, anyway.

Our Fair City

"It all started for me in Philadelphia because it's old enough, and it's got enough things in the air to really work on itself. It's decaying but it's fantastically beautiful, filled with violence, hate and filth."

-David Lynch
http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/2093/quotecollection/philly.html

Monkey See, Monkey Do

A word to the wise: Do not, within hearing range of a toddler in the midst of learning to talk, suddenly blurt out, "Fuck! Fuck!! Fuck!!!"

Learn from me, people.

Food is for wearing

'nuff said.

Sleep, ah, sleep

Aside from last night, when Ivan woke up twice during the night, he has slept through the night - from 8pm to 6:30am - for FOUR NIGHTS in a row.

I hear angels singing.

That is all.

Toast is the Answer

So, last night Ivan was a little tired and cranky. He would not abide anything other than to be held constantly, which made unloading the dishwasher and feeding the kitty (or the “titty,” as he calls her) somewhat unwieldy.

At one point, Ivan spied something he wanted – probably two rooms over, probably using his special toddler x-ray vision that allows him to spy a Dunkin Donuts bag from fifty yards away, but not see the coffee table corner right in front of him – and flipped out that this item was not immediately delivered to him.

Since the subsequent thrashing and flailing threatened to injure both myself and his own person, I laid him down on the floor so he could finish his tantrum in peace and relative safety.

I tried tickling him. I tried singing. I tried speaking reasonably to him, having forgotten that I was dealing with a toddler.

Finally, in a final effort, I offered him some cold, unappetizing toast. He abruptly stopped screaming, grabbed the toast, and shot me a look as if to say “Give me that fucking toast already, for God’s sake!!” And then proceeded to quietly eat his toast, still laying on the floor, splayed out mid-tantrum.

This is why I love him.

A tickle- and giggle-fest followed the toast, and happiness was restored.

Here I am.

Wow. My first blog post. This is exciting... Too bad I have nothing to say. Well, this is really just a test, anyway. More to come.

In the meantime, since it's February, here's a picture of my freakishly cute son this past summer.