Sidewalk Concert

Leo: sings "Harmony" at full volume in ascending tones
Friend: "I don't think you know what 'harmony' means."
Me, grabs air mic and announces: "Ladies, today Leo B will be playing the role of Annoying Little Brother and perform the amazing feat of singing solo harmony! #posterity The Humor Code

perspective

There are two parenting styles at the playground. One views a slide as uni-directional. The other style is espoused by a parent whose kid challenges such one-way linear thinking.

My kid proved today that there is more than one way to shimmy down a fire pole.

#videobyhissister
#letthemfail(fall)
#blesshissoul

#passthewine

Gender Tales: At the Toy Store

Leo, with great pleasure and excitement, trying to make small talk, says to the (male) attendant at the toy store:  "Look, we have this same toy in the nursery school!" (Lifts up a plastic hair dryer.)

Attendant:  "Oh, that's cool!  But you don't play with it, right?"

Leo: Returns the toy to the shelf.

Leo:  "No."

Me: "I'm sure you do.  It's a cool toy."

Leo:  No comment


Whom do he think he listens to?




previous posts on gender, kids, and Budapest:

http://jkkelleywritenow.blogspot.hu/2014/06/kids-are-not-dumb-what-boy-learns-from.html

http://jkkelleywritenow.blogspot.hu/2014/04/raising-kids-in-budapest-gender-tales.html

Kids are Not Dumb: What a Boy Learns from Fashion

Mama, why don’t you ever buy me beautiful clothes like Iza?  

 (He means the silk floral dress she wore for her end-of-school celebration.  He wore black formal pants, a white dress shirt, and a black vest with his sneakers.  He was adorable, with a hint of hipster.)

I try to buy you colorful clothes, but they are difficult to find.

Why don’t they make beautiful clothes for boys?  

They do.  They are just a different style.

They don’t make beautiful clothes for boys because they think all boys are bad.

Dreams

While making crepes one afternoon

Leo:  Mama, what did you dream last night?
Mama:  I don't remember.  Do you?
Leo:  No! You never told me.

By the numbers

Lenard
height:  41 inches, 52% (104 cm)
weight: 37.5 pounds, 56% (17 kilos)
BMI: 15.7, 54%
shoe: 29


Izabella
height:  47 inches, 92% (120 cm)
weight:  57 pounds, 95% (25.8 kilos)
BMI:  18.2, 94%
shoe:  32

Leo's Favorites

color:  chocolate

animal:  unicorn

drink:  bodza

video:  Olivia

person:  mama

place:  Waban

toy:  crane

shoes:  purple boots

book:  he is not saying

(almost 4-years-old, still 3)

First Words

On the way to nursery school today I was telling Iza about her birth.  Tomorrow is her fifth birthday and she was thrilled to hear that she was born during a snowstorm.  Then she asked me what her first word was.  I was able to answer with full confidence, Ball.  Leo then asked what his first word was.  And, well, I had no idea.  A blank.  So I said that his first word was Tata.  "No, mama," he laughed.  I remember.  It was, Iza!"

Leo's Three-Year Check Up

Leo:
31.5 pounds, 38 inches

Iza:
45 pounds, 43.5 inches

Fall Numbers

Izabella:

3 years, 7 months
wt  37
ht 40.25

Lenard:

2 years, 2 months
wt 28.5
ht 35.25

Leo at Two

The good news is that he made it to two.  And me too.

Just after turning two while in Transylvania, the family picked up the Rotavirus.  It hit Leo the day before we flew from Budapest to Boston.

The night before his well-visit at two-years-old with his pediatrician we were in the Emergency Room for dehydration concerns.  They treated him with anti-nausea medicine and he seemed to respond and perk up.

The next morning at his check-up he measured thus:

Ht.  34.5 inches, 52%

Wt.  24.5 pounds, 11%

HC.  48 centimeters, 32%

Later that morning we got the call from the hospital that he tested positive for Rotavirus.

That evening I carried my waif to the car and returned to the ER for an IV line to rehydrate him.

That makes four trips to the ER this summer.  Iza, 1.  Leo, 3.

Our local ER at Newton-Wellesley Hospital, where Leo and Iza were born, is wonderful.  Can't say as much for Budapest!

Rotavirus is terrible.  Yes, there is a vaccine.  No, he wasn't vaccinated.  His sister was.  (That requires a longer post to explain.)  In short, if there is a third child, that child will be vaccinated.  Rotavirus compounded by international travel and jet lag creates a surreal 3 - 8 days.  We are on day 4.

And Then

And then Leo stepped off the curb.

I reached for him, grabbed his arm. I pulled him back and then

I jumped in front of the car to push it away from him.

And then I thought:  it's okay that I have my hands pressed into the grill. when I hit the pavement bones and muscles might give way.  A second birth.  And then

I screamed, My Baby, My Baby, My Baby.

His nose was bleeding, he cried.

I shouted, Leo too? The car, Leo too?  (In broken Hungarian)

I knew the car hit me (or I hit the car). I wanted to know if the car hit Leo.

No one could say. Or would say.

I sat on the curb. Leo sat upright in my lap, heart to heart. His blood soaked my shirt.

I reached for Iza.  She came and stood next to my, stroking my back.  She took care of me. (That's not her job.) She never cried.

Later a witness said the car's front tire hit Leo in the head.

And then the ambulance came. The police.

There was no fault. Except mine, of course. I am the mother.

It is my job to keep them alive, 
at minimum.

The driver:  a young man in a suit. Two other young men in the car, wearing suits. I didn't say a word to them. I wish I would've told them they weren't to blame.
I worry about them too.

People rushed to the scene:  A woman with a child on her hip, a nurse from high school next door, several men. There was shouting and silence. Someone offered me water. 
I refused, but then directed them to pour it over Leo's finger.  It poured over his raw flesh. Iza quickly pointed out that the water was spilling. This part of the story she always repeats, 
when the water spilled.

I took Leo's finger, his right index finger, bloodied, and put it in my mouth.  
I sucked it clean. I was calm.

In the ambulance they bandaged my scrapes, but never examined me. They felt Leo's head, but never took off his shoes or clothes to look for wounds.  Later I will see his elbow is scraped raw.

And then, sitting in the ambulance, the police asked my name.  Janet Kelley, or Kelley Janet?  (In Hungarian they say the family name first.)  Birthdate?  11/18 or 18/11?  (In Hungary they offer the day first, then the month.)  In my head I shout:  absurdity!  who the fuck cares!  Drive us to an x-ray machine!

Laszlo had left that morning for Zurich.  I had no cash, no phone (it was in the apartment), and no passport.  I didn't know our street address.  I knew the street, but not the house number.

And then the ambulance was driving quietly, sedately through tree-lined Budapest avenues toward a hospital.  Leo fell asleep in my arms.  I checked to see he was breathing.  

The x-ray technician was hostile, to say the least.  She wanted me to hold Leo a certain way and I didn't understand.  And then when I did understand, I tried to say I couldn't hold his face that way because my hand was in pain. Her response, if you don't do it we can't take the x-ray.  

So what is a little more pain?

The x-ray showed no damage to the bone. And they released us. We took a taxi home, no car seats.

The accident happened at noon. We were home by two.

And then, lunch as usual.

And then

I pulled Leo back. I felt him slip from my grasp. 
I jumped in front of the car. You know, to stop it.

I walked away. Leo walked away.

Izabella watched the entire event from the curb. This terrifies me.

And then, again, Iza asks, "Do you wanna tell about it?  Accident?  When the car came?"

I am convinced the car didn’t hit Leo.  I am sure his head injury was caused when I pulled him back and he fell down on the street.

I almost wish I had a broken bone.

And then I was waiting in front of the nursery's large wooden door on a narrow street in Budapest, close to the castle. It was noon. Clear, sunny fall day. The children raced down the sidewalk as they returned from the park. I was there to pick up Iza and Leo. It was their third morning in the nursery. I brought them at ten and then 
was supposed to return at noon.  Two hours. And then

a woman in a car was waving hello (or asking if she could park?) and

then we were all saying hellos--six kids, two teachers, and myself.  
And I hugged and kissed my kids

and then there was small talk or not and hungry kids ready to go inside to lunch and naps and then

Leo stepped off the curb.

"Do you wanna talk about it? Accident?"

Yes, I do. As many times as you do, Iza. And then

again.

New Numbers

Izabella

Ht In
38.3

Wt Lb
30.5

BP
99/68

Lenard

Ht In
33.5

Wt Lb
24

Snow Day Notes

Leo, 18-months:

has discovered a new word:  MINE!

will climb onto the dining room table in the time it takes to go to the kitchen and retrieve the butter.

is beautiful.

loves to read Brown Bear or anything Iza happens to be reading.

has yet to have his first hair cut.  (Well, I did take pity on him and trim his bangs while we were in Kansas for Christmas.)

desperately needs a hair cut.

likes broccoli.

is not a fan of playing in the snow.

has decided that pigs are called "Lalalas" because of the book "Moo Baa Lalala."  has adopted a tiny pink pig as his bedtime "Lalala."  sadly this is Iza's little pig.  this causes much sadness and confusion.  for both of them.

has his own word for nursing:  mama.

is currently being night-weaned.  is not happy about that, but is learning.

has never slept through the night.  One time (last week) he slept from 8 pm to 5:30 am.  Usually he sleeps for three hours before he wakes the first time.  He is up at least three or four times a night.

has eyes that still amaze me.

rarely stops moving.

currently is exploring what happens when he shoves Izabella.  he is over the hair-pulling thing, mostly.

starts biting when he is tired.  or trying to bite me.  he is not being mean.  it is a playful nip, but still.



Izabella, three-years-old next month:

loves a good party.

hates to have her hair washed.

went to see her first theater performance:  The Berenstain Bears at the Jewish Community Center.  She was rapt for the entire show lasting almost an hour.  (Leo slept through it, thankfully).

still loves blue cheese, brie cheese, and goat cheese.

likes to pretend that she is going on a trip to New York City.  she packs her monkey backpack with snacks, books, and a bottle of water.

loves to watch "Kids" = Sesame Street on TV.

is extremely tolerant of her little brother. most of the time.

enjoys "Taking Care" of her baby dolls and stuffed animals.

loves to play in the snow. 

understands Hungarian. Speaks Hunglish.

often requests to wear her party dress so that she can twirl.

is observant.

is ready for a big-girl bed.

likes to stick out her "beautiful tummy" and rub it.

makes my heart ache when I put her to sleep and she requests one more ABC or Twinkle Twinkle.

has gorgeous long hair.

currently loves to paint.  our dining room table has been transformed into an art center.

attended her first dance class today.  moms are asked to stay in the waiting area.  the class was an hour-and-half long.  she says that she wants to go back next time.

Grow by Numbers

Izabella

2 years, 8 months

37 inches tall

30 pounds heavy

20 inches around her head

Leo

1 year, 3 months

31.5 inches tall

22 pounds 4.5 ounces heavy

20 inches around his head

Milestones

Ms. Izabiza opens the bathroom door, sets her Elmo potty seat on the big potty, climbs the stool, turns around and seats herself. Thank you very much. And she tells Mama and brother Leo to stay out.

She requests "Hallelujah" (by Leonard Cohen).

Leo and Izabella can now walk all the way from our local ice-cream parlor, Freeze, to our favorite park, Lincoln Park. Tata holds Izabella's hand and she holds Leo's hand. The distance is approximately .35 miles. That is a lot of steps when your legs are only about 15 inches long!

We are in the second week of letting Iza go diaper-free as she learns to use only the potty. She still uses a diaper for nap and bedtime. It takes courage to let your little one out and about in public without a diaper. Beside a tiny little dribble on the Starbuck's floor (the bathroom was occupied!), she hasn't had accidents. Luckily the summer weather allows me to put a dress on her. She can pull it up herself when she needs to visit the potty. Today I taught her how to put on her little undies. The little bow goes just beneath her belly button.

Leo can climb and run. I can still run faster than him. These days are numbered.

He imitates Iza constantly. Certainly Iza learned from her peers, but Leo's drive to imitate his sister is incredibly strong. Despite their 17-month-age difference, this is little that separates their physical ability--except the difference in height and thus reach. He wants to go where she goes, eat what she eats, drink what she drinks. He even sits on the potty and reads a book, just like sister.

Izabella's hair is long and thick and slightly curly and completely out of control. Tata is in charge of washing it and giving her a blow dry. She hates the rinsing, but loves to have it dried.

As much I loved the baby stage, I think I will love the two kids stage even more. The potential for fun is greater. They are little entertainers--especially Leo.

Still tandem nursing. Iza only nurses once, maybe twice a day. Leo still loves to nurse a lot at night.

Now, if only they would sleep.

Leo's Gastronomical History to Date

Jan. 12, 2010

Banana

Not a fan

Jan. 17

Sweet Potato

Not a failure

Jan. 20

Banana

Green poop

Jan. 24

Butternut Squash

Take it or leave it, mostly leave it

Jan. 31

Pears

LOVED IT!

Feb. 16

Avocado

No

Feb. 19

Rice cereal mixed with pear

(no comment)

Feb. 20

Prune Juice

effective

Feb. 26

Apple

okay

March 4

Parsnip and Carrot

meh.

Aug. 2

Eats whatever we eat at the table

CORRECTION: wears whatever we eat at the table.

Notes:

--Drinks from straw

--loves to "feed" himself with spoon

--likes marinated mushrooms from Pier 4

--loves freeze-dried strawberries from Trader Joe's

--Nurses mostly at night and before each nap

--Too busy to nurse during the day

Stats

Lenard, One Year:

Ht. 30 in.

HC. 19 in.

Wt. 21.5 lbs.

(7/8/2010)

first word: uh-oh.

"Lenard"

In a few short weeks we will celebrate Lenard's first birthday. As I learned with Izabella's first birthday, this is a big deal--for me. Living through the first year of parenthood was a major accomplishment. Yet there is no bullet point under which to designate such on your resume. So there must be a party. With funny hats. Cake that the little one smears around. Cuteness, etc. Izabella's first year was an eternity. Leo's first year has passed in an instant. Still, he survived us. We survived him. Let's party.

As I ponder his yeardom, I realize that I have yet to write about the fact that he is "Lenard." By now calling him Leo is natural and I like the sound of it, "lay-oh." My little summer tomato. I even introduce him proudly as Lenard, "lay-nard," and give a brief explanation about his Hungarian roots. Still I am a bit shocked to think that I have a son, and his name is Lenard. It is a bold choice, the name. I can only hope he will carry it well. For his sake, I will tell the story of his name. It will be perfect fonder for elementary school essays and therapy sessions, perhaps.

Long before Leo, we were at his future Grandmother's apartment in Transylvania looking at birth certificates from ages ago. There are three male names that have been repeated in my husband's family. My husband has two of those names (long story), and his first son has the other. As we sorted through the birth certificates in his mother's collection there was a Lenard among them. I noticed it because my grandfather and one uncle are named Leonard. I remember thinking at that moment that Lenard would be the right name for our future son. If I only dared--both to have a son and to choose that name.

My husband has no recollection of this event. Clarification: He just said that he remembers looking at the certificates, but didn't have an a-ha, Lenard moment about his future son and doesn't remember Lenard among those ancestors.

You would think knowing for something like twenty-three weeks that it was a boy would be enough time to select a name. Not for us. We would leave the hospital with our little one nameless. It took us one week to return and officially designate him Lenard. In the meantime, we decided on Zoltan. I introduced him as Zoltan to our neighbors to practice with the name. Months later neighbors would ask how little Zoltan was faring.

Zoltan? Lenard? Unless you are Hungarian, you must think us terribly eccentric. Zoltan, however, is as common in Hungary as John in America. Perhaps even more common. Whenever my husband mentions that Zoli (the nickname) did or said such and such, the first question is always: Which Zoli? To American ears, on the other hand, Zoltan or Zoli is (methinks) pretty unusual, even cool. I liked that it cannot be translated to an American equivalent. We settled on Zoltan. One morning we rallied the family to get dressed and loaded up carseats to head to the hospital and sign the papers. As we were going out the door, my husband called a halt to the operation. He just couldn't do it. The baby wasn't a Zoli in his eyes.

To be honest the Hungarian male names just aren't that attractive, at least the ones available to us. The ones we liked were quickly off the list for various reasons. Our first list of names as of February 5th, 2010:

Laszlo
Albert
Lenard
Tibor
Zoltan
Attila
Boldizsar
Gabor
Lorand
Zoran
Istvan
Lukacs
Mihaly
Sandor
Zsigmond
Ferenc

Personally, I was at bat for Zsigmond. Baby Ziggy. Ziggs. Zig-zig. (For the record, I also wanted Izabella to be Izadora or Szilvia.)

As you can see, Lenard was on the first list and near the top. Really it was our best option, we just didn't have the courage for it.

As the pregnancy progressed there was another Lenard who made his presence known, my husband's ancestor from the 16th century. My husband uncovered his story while researching material for his new book, BURSTS. He may have a more recent family connection, but for sure our little Lenard's namesake is traced all the way back to Leonardus Barlabasi, the Latin for Lenard Barlabasi. Lenard was second in command ruling a province in Transylvania. Our Leo's Tata discovered that his letters, which survive in the administrative Latin used in that time, provide a window into the everyday life of that time. While he didn't win any battles or discover vitamin C, he was an top administrator and an avid letter writer. Our Leo may be a man of letters yet.

I would also like to include here a side note on the historical quest for Lenard's letter in the State Archives in Nagyszeben, Transylvania that did not make it into my husband's account in his new book. Yes, I was there with him. And as he mentions it was a sweltering summer day. I am not known to be tough as nails. I like air conditioning. I do. So I wilted next to him, my head resting on the table in utter exhaustion as his eyes nearly popped out of his head with excitement as he actually got to handle a letter written by Lenard in 1507. As it turns out, I was actually running a fever of 101 and would go on to develop a horrible racking cough. Not such a big deal, right? Except that I was eleven weeks pregnant with Izabella. Getting sick in Transylvania is no fun for an American. The Romanian hospitals are, well, creepy. I could go on. I could tell you how the doctor had no idea what I had, but that the nurse wrote down a recipe for onion syrup that she swore would clear up the cough. At any rate, I survived. Izabella survived. And Lenard's name survived too.

A final Lenard factor: Leonard Cohen. My husband introduced me to Cohen's music when he first wooed me. (That should tell you a lot.) Cohen was giving a concert in Boston. The tickets sold out quickly. Long story short, mama procured excellent tickets. I put Izabella to bed and left her with our sitter, that was the one and only date date since her birth. Hugely pregnant in a white summer dress I attended my first Leonard Cohen concert. It was brilliant. A gem. Totally worth every cent. And yet another positive Leonard to make us think that our little one could bear the name with pride.

11-Months: Lows and Highs

Leo has diarrhea. Iza had it last week. It is officially a bug. It is the real poopy deal. I thought I had seen diarrhea before with Izabella. Oh, no. Now I know. We have been eating the BRATY diet for too long--bananas, rice, applesauce, toast, and yogurt.

He also has the front four upper teeth erupting.

And then.

He face-planted on concrete. The blood, the tears.

A cool, wet cloth. A bit of nursing. Five minutes. He was over it. Me. Not yet.

The diarrhea? The good thing(s) about it:

1. I can finally spell diarrhea without resorting to using "die-uh-ree-uh."

2. White rice = really good, damn. Not sure I'll look at brown rice quite the same for a while.

In other news, Leo managed a bright spot on the day he turned 11-months-old: he climbed the stairs! It is the closest he has come to crawling. This one is a runner. Already I am below my pre-first-pregnancy weight (despite a diet that includes entire cartons of ice-cream and no official work-out program), this kid and his sister are going to turn me into a regular waif. Best diet ever: two toddlers.