December 5, 2007: Oh Ivan, my love
MMmmmaammmaaa... maaaaammmaaa....
This sound is permanently etched in my mind. I hear it when it's there, I hear it when it's not there. Ivan loves his mother with passion, with a deep ache in his heart that makes itself known in long or short or high or low whiiines throughout the day (and sometimes the night). It's sweet to a degree and after that it's just plain annoying. I realize he will stop doing this one day, mostly when he will have to face the ridicule of his school friends, so that hope sort of keeps me going when I think I need to throw him out the window. Although somehow I think he would still be calling me and no wall could drown it out, ever. His dedication is just that thick.
Like my other child, Ivan is quite strong-willed. We have a lot of conflict over food: He usually refuses to eat (except over his favorites: cottage cheese, hummus, shredded cheese - although he has recently graduated to slices, baka's strudel and chocolate in almost any form). Then we physically have to stuff a bite in his mouth, which he is furious about, but at least half the time, after he is done crying he will ask for more, because his hunger is stronger than pride and the fact is, it is delicious after all... I hate having to force him, but the success speaks for itself and besides, he needs to eat.
Even if not for eating itself, he saves a lot of his energy for meal time. All the boyish traits are out: swinging on his chair, kicking something (me) with his foot, putting his feet on the table, playing with his placemat (this one drives me crazy: it's a plastic mat and he swishes it left and right, left and right and all the utensils, plates or food in its way crash to the floor), banging his food, throwing his food. There is no anger in it, just some type of impulse.... "must move when restrained!"
Every entry I find myself going back to writing about his truly sweet nature. I remember I felt it when he was born, it's really something. He is helpless when overcome by his love for someone and just let's his whole face shine with it.. and of course there are lots of kisses and hugs and angelic smiles. When his emotions take over his whole being stops and he just lets it all show. Reminds me of his father that way.
Ivan is a devoted brother. He still only uses a few words (mama, papa, noni, dibby, ball, nane (=banana), schaun (=watch), baum (=tannenbaum), bu(ssi)) but Noni is probably right up there with mama. When he says Noni it almost sounds like Nuni and Veronika has really taken to that and will call herself Nuni when talking to him. It's like she feels honored by the special pronunciation. In the morning Veronika or me make cocoa and then he takes the sippy cups and hands one to her and they both lie down parallel on the couch and drink it in silence. It's really something to behold... the quiet alliance, the safety in the habit. He plays his role faithfully: On one hand he is the committed follower, what Veronika suggests or does, he will do as well. He will repeat every silly sound and do what she says in role play. On the other hand he will take her things and run away with them, he will scream on top of his lungs while trying to tear something from her hands. He will annoy her and destroy her things and walk away with a triumphant, slightly guilty face. It's just how it is, how it has to be, it's the law of "little-annoying-brother"-hood.
Posted by mama at 11:28 AM