No Coincidences

Tag: ivy thoughts

  • Ivy and Six Flags 2023

    Ivy and Six Flags 2023

    Well, we did it. Ivy is officially a Quackenbush. She had her first day trip to Six Flags. And just as I expected, she didn’t disappoint.

    We got up at 5:30am to drive straight to the park. On the drive there I told Ivy, “This will be a day I will remember for the rest of my life.” I realized, good or bad, this would be a memorable experience. It’s ultimately why I decided to go through with it.

    We stopped along the way for our road trip tradition: a frozen treat.

    We stopped at Wendy’s before going into Six Flags. Ivy had a couple bites of her burger and a couple fries.

    Our first ride was the Grand Carousel. Ivy loves carousels and had been talking about the carousel from the moment she learned she was going to Six Flags. She loved it.

    Next, we went on the school bus. It’s a little yellow bus that lifts up and loops around in a circle. This was a big moment. It was Ivy’s first real ride. She loved it. She cracked one big smile early on, lifted her hands straight in the air. Then the ride got a bit repetitive and Ivy settled into a stoic, serious, forward-staring face. I was worried about this for a moment before I remembered that’s exactly how she rides when trailing a bike in her bike cart. She gets really serious. But if you try to take her out of the bike cart, she gets upset. She was loving the ride in her own way.

    Blankie joined on the Elmer Fudd Hot Air Balloons.

    We rode various other rides that Ivy loved. She especially loved dragging Grandpa into the Tweetie Bird cages.

    Then we came to the roller coaster train. This would be her first serious ride. It was a little wooden roller coaster. This ride was significant not only because it was fast and a roller coaster, but also because it was the first ride I couldn’t join her on. She would have to do this one on her own.

    There was one other girl in line to ride. This girl was probably 10 years old. The ride operator kindly asked the 10-year-old if Ivy could ride with her so she didn’t have to be alone. I asked Ivy if she’d like that. She shook her head and promptly walked to the second cart and stepped in.

    From my place behind the metal railing, I watched with anticipation. This was the moment. I told Ivy to put her hands up and she promptly lifted both straight up in the air. It was an awesome moment as a dad; watching the coaster slowly go up the first little hill and watching intently as it went around a corner and took its first fast drop. The joy I saw on Ivy’s face. It was something I’ll never forget. It was complete thrill and happiness. I almost teared up. I was so happy that my big girl was experiencing so much joy with an activity that also gave me joy.

    From there we went and did crafts under a tent in 100-degree heat. It was hot. There was a trick-or-treat activity in a couple hours so Ivy made a mask. From our spot under the tent, we could see the biggest roller coaster at Six Flags, Goliath. Ivy looked up at it and said, “I want to ride that one. I finish craft, then do that one.”

    Given that Ivy had a desire to ride Goliath, I decided to push my luck. Going into our trip I had very clear instructions from Beth on one particular item: DO NOT take Ivy on the Pirate Ship. This Pirate Ship if you’re not aware:

    Well, you have to be ready to adjust given new data. And Ivy had provided plenty of signs that she was ready for the Pirate Ship. It was right across from Goliath and I considered it a better option than that, after all.

    We entered the Pirate Ship. I decided to really push my luck. Instead of going to the lowest seats (the least extreme), I went right in the middle. This little girl, again about ten years old, and her mom, sat next to us. The ride started. Ivy was excited. Then that first gut-wrenching Pirate Ship tickle we all love hit. Some kids across from us were being silly and being extra loud and screaming acting like they were terrified. Or maybe they were terrified. Ivy started to panic. The ten-year-old next to us looked over with concern. The Pirate Ship got higher and higher. Ivy started to panic more and more. I started to worry that I’d have to do that thing where I put my hand over my mouth and raise my other hand to get the ride to stop.

    I needed to think quickly. Remember how Ivy likes nicknames (Ivy Thoughts Part 2)? I pulled her close to me, leaned in, and said, “You’re OK Jake Sully, you’re brave.” Jake Sully is the main character in Avatar, for those who don’t know, which I assume is pretty much everyone. That was her recent brave character and once she heard she was Jake Sully and she was brave, she got through it.

    When we got off the ride I was ecstatic, and so was Ivy. “Did you love it?!” I asked her.

    “No.”

    “You didn’t like it?” I asked.

    “I no like that one, it make my body feel icky.” Later she told my whole family she didn’t like the Pirate Ship because it tickled her tummy.

    That said, with great risk sometimes comes great reward. Like the trip to Six Flags in general, I knew the trip would be memorable because it would be equal parts fun and hard. The Pirate Ship, the biggest risk I took at Six Flags (to that point), became the number one thing Ivy talked about. For weeks she would talk to Beth and I about the Pirate Ship she rode.

    Our visit was during Fright Fest. If you haven’t been to Fright Fest at Six Flags, it’s no joke. It’s a pretty intense experience. There are tons of people dressed up as monsters. From five-foot-tall women dressed as witches to 20-foot-tall creepy tree-armed monsters, to long-nosed creatures with sparks on their feet that skate around.

    An announcement would come over the loudspeakers every couple hours during the day. The announcement stated that no one was safe after 7:00pm. The park would turn into a horror zone at that point.

    My dad, Dresdan, Garrick, and I got off the ride Twisted Colossus and as we stepped off, we heard 3 creepy gongs. Fright Fest was starting. We didn’t know where Ivy and my mom were. My mom hadn’t had her phone for hours. The last message we had received stated that Cambria was with them at Wonder Woman. I rushed over. I didn’t want Ivy to be without me when the horror started. As I rushed toward Wonder Woman, I hit a wall of people holding their phones up over the crowd. There was a stage with a cleared path leading up to it. Suddenly dozens of people dressed in creepy costumes came parading toward the stage. Then pandemonium broke out. The monsters started running around, skating and creating sparks, and scaring everyone. People started running around. It felt genuinely dangerous for a moment.

    We rushed to Wonder Woman and couldn’t find Ivy or my mom anywhere. I started trying to guess where my mom would take Ivy to protect her from the chaos. Surely the kids’ zone was still safe since it just started right? We started heading across the park to where the kids’ rides were. We had been warned. Nowhere was safe. We approached the kids’ zone which had become covered in a white fog created by smoke machines.

    I practically ran through the kids’ area looking for them. We headed for the front of the park. I looked through the windows of every restaurant or shop, thinking they might have sought refuge there. My last two guesses of where they might be were the gift shop or the Grand Carousel. From a distance, we saw them at the carousel. My mom informed us that they had been riding the carousel for the last 45 minutes, over, and over.

    We all sat at a table as we watched the horror start to approach from a distance. Ivy was sitting in her stroller and I turned her so she was facing away from a horde of approaching monsters. I fully intended to leave. Ivy couldn’t survive here. She wouldn’t sleep for years after an evening at Fright Fest. I still remember watching Chucky at a much too young age. These monsters were in real life.

    I started talking to Ivy about it to gauge her feelings about being surrounded by monsters. We started discussing staying. I decided, if there was any chance we were going to stay, then the monster situation needed to be met head-on. So I picked up Ivy and walked towards the biggest scariest monster I could see. The reason I chose the biggest and scariest wasn’t to just get to the point. I actually chose the biggest monster because I thought she could see it from a distance and not have to get too close. So I walked towards one of these:

    I showed Ivy and she immediately hugged me, hid her face, and said “No, no, no.” I walked away from the monster. Surprisingly, it was all uphill from there. We decided to take a route we thought would avoid monsters to get some food. We had pizza and then had to go through a path that was completely decked out for Fright Fest. It was like a haunted house built into a creepy trail. Inexplicably, Ivy took a liking to the monsters. I went from avoiding them at all costs to leading Ivy up to each one to say hi.

    We made our way to Tatsu. While waiting in line, Ivy requested a special trip to go say hi to more creepy monsters. So I left the line and Ivy and I went monster hunting.

    We came back to Tatsu in time for me to ride. This was where Ivy got more upset than she had all day. More upset than the Pirate Ship, more upset than the monsters, she was extremely disappointed that she couldn’t ride Tatsu.

    The lesson from this trip ended up being: with great risk comes great reward. The three things Ivy has constantly talked about since our trip have been the Pirate Ship, the monsters, and Tatsu. Months later Tatsu is still the motivation for Ivy to eat all of her meals. She needs to eat all of her food so she can get big and strong to ride Tatsu.

    Ivy ended up falling asleep at 10:00pm. For those following the timeline here, that was in the car 6:00am-12:30pm, lunch at Wendy’s 12:30-1pm, nonstop rides 1:00pm-7:00pm culminating in 10 consecutive rides on the carousel, and hunting monsters 7:00pm-10:00pm. We ended up leaving at 12:30am. That’s a Quackenbush day at Six Flags.

    And with that, our first (of many) Six Flags trips had concluded, and the next day we were on our way home after a Denny’s breakfast, frozen treat in hand.

  • Ivy Thougts Part 3

    Ivy Thougts Part 3

    It’s time for one of my favorite posts to write – Ivy thoughts!

    This is a good one.

    One of the funnest things about being a parent is watching your child start to mimic you. It’s in those moments that I get a snapshot into how closely she is watching me. The other day Beth texted me and said, “I can tell when there’s a habit you do because Ivy does it. Like tapping your toothbrush on the edge of the sink. I said, ‘Does Daddy do that?’ And she said, ‘Yeah Daddy like tap tap tap.’”

    Other examples are the words she copies. The other day she said to her grandpa, “Papa, come hang out.” Another time they were playing a game and she said, “You give it a try.” My favorite example showing Ivy paying attention and learning, she was standing at the kitchen counter while her grandpa cut vegetables. He set the knife down and she, unprompted, said, “Ivy no touch knives.” Ivy helps me put the dishes away. I’ll hand her cups, plastic bowls, plastic plates, forks, spoons and she’ll put them in the dishwasher. Early on I would start to hand her a knife and then pause and say, “Does Ivy touch knives.” Of course, in the beginning, she would say, “Yes,” and I would say, “No, no, Ivy doesn’t touch knives,” and she’d quickly say, “No, no, Ivy no touch knives.” So we’d continue and if I started to hand her a knife to test her she would quickly say, “No, no, Ivy no touch knives.” Glad to see the things I’m teaching her are travelling.

    I had Ivy for an hour while I worked one day. She sat on the couch and watched Curious George by herself for 30 minutes. 30 minutes in she wanted to work with me. I tell her she can sit on my lap as long as she doesn’t touch anything. She proceeds to touch everything and say, “Can I touch this.” This I accept, having played this game before, as long as she doesn’t touch my keyboard. Then she starts throwing things. I gently set her aside and tell her it’s back to Curious George. This whole time she hasn’t said a word about the bag of Reese’s Peanut Butter Eggs on the right side of my desk. I’m amazed until… 2 minutes later she comes back. She walks up to my right arm which is on my chair’s arm rest. She gives my arm a huge hug and says, “Daddy, I’m so proud of you.” She gives it a good squeeze. I say, “Aw Ivy, thank you, I love you,” and give her a kiss. She promptly reaches over for the bag of chocolates and starts to walk away. I grab them just before she is out of reach. I tell her she can have one. I unwrap it and give it to her. As she walks out she says, “Thank you Daddy, I love you.” Is this what being wrapped around a finger feels like?

    Ivy and I were cuddling in bed after a nap and totally out of nowhere Ivy looks up at me and says, “You have sharks on your water bottle, Dad?” I looked over at my water bottle and said, “No, my water bottle is just green.” Ivy said, “It OK Dada, one day when you’re bigger you’ll get sharks on your water bottle TOO.”

    The other day Beth asked Ivy if she tooted and she said, very seriously, “No. There’s just a bobcat in my bum.” The same day, after I left for work, Ivy asked Beth, “Where Daddy going?” Beth responded that I went to work and Ivy said, “Again?!?!” You and me both sweet girl. She had a lot of personality that day.

    This was one of those equally heartbreaking and also wonderful parenting moments. I took Ivy with me to an open gym for basketball a couple months back. I expected it to go well. It went as poorly as it could have. I had to leave early and it was the last time I took Ivy to open gym. In my frustration, after Ivy was upset and throwing a fit and crying, I told her I’d hoped I could take her with me to basketball more this season but that I wasn’t going to make that mistake again. Like I said, I hadn’t taken her back with me since. Recently, I was at basketball. Ivy saw me leave with my bag and ball. “Where you goin Daddy?” “I have to go to basketball sweetie, I’ll see you when I get back.” She just looked at me with the most beautiful eyes and content face. But it wasn’t the normal – ‘see ya later’ face. While I was at practice Beth texted me, “Ivy’s been packing a bag and saying ‘I’m packing because I have to go to basketball soon. I know you will miss me when I’m at basketball. I come back though.’” I realized I need to give her another shot.

    Apparently when I was gone for work an entire day Ivy kept saying, “Say what’s wrong Hero Boy.” So Beth replies and asks what’s wrong with Hero Boy. “I lost my daddy.” Heart. Broken.

    We’ve had a few days of complete toddler turmoil. I love Ivy. She’s been a monster. She’s in the stage where if you ask her not to do something it’s instantly the next thing she does. Not kidding. We’ve been letting her play Battleship. You know, like the old school board game. She sits and puts the ships and pegs in and plays Battleship with herself. On occasion, the little pegs drop and I had to emphasize to her that it was important those didn’t drop because we didn’t want to lose pieces and Sage could choke on them. Ivy got out of her chair, walked across the room to where Sage was, and started to hand her one of the little pegs. It wasn’t like the temptation was even there. Sage wasn’t right next to her. She had to get out of her seat (a lot of work) and walk across the room to find Sage and willfully disobey what I just said. It was like she was possessed by some irrepressible urge to do exactly what I just told her not to do. These are the parenting moments that are teaching us patience, I guess.

    On that note of Ivy being difficult and us trying to be patient – I was leaving for basketball the other day and it had been a particularly stressful day for Beth. I went to Ivy before I left and quietly talked to her. I asked her to be my best girl. To help her mom, to take care of her sister, and to be my best, sweetest girl. “Can you do that for me?” “Yes, Daddy.” Beth texted me while I was at basketball: “We finally had a quiet moment to sit down after a walk and crafts. I’m trying so hard and yet she’s being so difficult! Ivy has a cold drink and Sage is eating her dinner. Ivy looks up at me and says in a sweet little voice, ‘Mom, I am doing my best.’ I have no idea where she heard that or if she even knows what that means but it was so sweet and probably true so I told her, ‘I know, my sweet Ivy’ and felt a little calmer. The student becomes the teacher yet again.” Ivy knows what that means. And she’s amazing. And she’s teaching us so much, while we try to teach her just enough to survive and not choke her sister.

  • Ivy Thoughts Part 2

    Ivy Thoughts Part 2

    There’s this book Ivy loves called “Icarus.” We learned there are a series of these books that take Greek legends and makes them into children’s stories with a lesson. Icarus, for example, flies his kite too high until it hits trees, similar to the Greek legend of Icarus flying too close to the sun. Anyways, we learned about the series, and ordered a few of them. We got one about Odysseus. Remember how Ivy often wants to be called “teacher”? That’s been replaced by “Ivydysseus.” Beth and I never said that. She came up with that on her own.

    It’s not the only nickname Ivy has come up with either. We read a book about Baby Beluga. Ivy, on her own, started calling Sage “Sagey Beluga.” My family loves giving nicknames. I’m never referred to as “Brayden” by my parents. I am either Lewis or Fly. Adie is Sassafrass, Garrick is Dude, Dresdan is Jiggles, Cambria is Barbara, and Easton is Goose. Ivy apparently has the Quackenbush gene of giving nicknames.

    I’ve mentioned Ivy teaching Sage how to pray. Ivy says her prayer every night before bedtime. Last night she said her normal prayer, “Thank you for Jesus, thank you for Mudder (she learned she could call Beth “mother”), thank you for Daddy, thank you for blankie, thank you for super cozy (code for being comfortable in bed), thank you for water. Amen.” Then she says, “Billy’s turn.” Billy is her stuffed bobcat. I get Billy from the floor and hand him to her. Ivy gets back into kneeling position on her bed and says, “Thank you for Ivy. Amen.” Of course, Billy has to say his prayer and the only thing he’s grateful for is Ivy.

    We dog-sit a dog named Chicago. Ivy LOVES Chicago. Today Ivy “called” Chicago’s owner on the phone during her lunch. Here was what she had to update Chicago’s owner on: “Yeah Mommy’s with Sage. Chicago’s just sleeping. Yeah Chicago…Chicago…Chicago…okay bye.”

    More on nicknames. You can get in big trouble for not being aware of Ivy’s current persona. At this moment in time, there are many. At any given moment she can be a completely different attitude depending on her name. “Ivydysseus,” as mentioned, indicates she’s feeling adventurous. Ivy teacher means she’s teaching you something, or potentially cooking you some food. There’s Ivy, which obviously means she’s not in character. There is Ivy James. I’m not sure what Ivy James indicates. But DON’T get caught calling her by the wrong name. If you call her Ivydysseus while she’s clearly reading you a book, you will get a firm, “No, I Ivy teacher.” When you reply, “Oh, sorry, Ivy teacher” she will reply, “Good job.”

    There are things Beth isn’t allowed to say, but I am. We haven’t figured out why that is or any sort of pattern yet. But if Beth says something like, “Oh, sorry Ivy.” It’s common for Ivy to reply, “No, no, no, you no say ‘sorry Ivy.’ Dada say ‘sorry Ivy.’” This goes for all sorts of things. “No, no, no, you no say ‘OK’, Dada say ‘OK’”. That one really puts Beth in a tough spot because the natural reaction to that statement is to reply “OK” again. Beth’s really got to watch herself because if she says “OK” again… man is she going to hear about it.

    Those Mini Myths books, mentioned earlier, are awesome. I already talked about the Icarus and Odysseus ones. We have a couple others. But one of those books has been causing problems. It is the Hercules version. In the Hercules version, Hercules has a little sister. At one point Hercules’s father (Zeus? Doesn’t look like him in the book but whatever) says, “Hercules, are you playing nice?” Hercules responds, “I’m strong, I’m not nice.” Hercules proceeds to destroy his sister’s tower. The book has a happy ending, of course. Hercules learns to be strong and nice. He reconstructs his sister’s tower. Ivy, unfortunately, has forgotten the ending. All day she is picking up stuff and saying, “I so strong. I not nice.” I told Beth we need to start skipping that page.

    On this same note, Ivy is super susceptible to messages from books or TV. The most well-intentioned media, like the Hercules book or the show Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood (which does a ton of good) can have a negative impact. If Ivy sees anger in a show, she goes through it herself.

    There is a Daniel Tiger episode where he learns how to handle anger. He pauses, takes a deep breath, and counts to four, with a little jingle attached. This is awesome. Ivy does this deep breath and counting pretty much every day. What’s crazy is that when Ivy watches the show she goes through the full emotional roller coaster Daniel Tiger goes through in the show. When he gets angry, she gets angry. It’s kind of fake anger on Ivy’s part, kind of not. I’ve seen that anger carry on after the episode is finished.

    Ivy
    Mad

    One night I was reading Ivy a book called I was so Mad before bedtime. I altered the entire book to “I was so happy” because I knew if I read “I was so mad” over and over while Ivy was in bed, she’d actually get mad. It’s interesting how much those little minds are impacted by external influences.

    This wraps another “Ivy Thoughts.” Part 3 is already in full swing. Stay tuned for more.

  • Ivy Thoughts Part 1

    Ivy Thoughts Part 1

    As a parent, you can’t remember a fraction of the funny things your toddler says. Here’s a list of things I’ve remembered from the past few months. Any parent will love and relate to this. And I imagine non-parents will find at least one of these things pretty funny.

    List of fun things Ivy has said recently:

    Ivy with a puppet

    She has an obsession with puppets. Everything is a puppet. Feet, books, toys, real puppets, waffles. You name it, I promise it can be a puppet.

    She hands me a real puppet, that can be put on my hand, and says, “Here, say, ‘me a puppet.’”

    Later I ask, “Oh, did you make me some food?” She replies, “No. It’s for puppet.”

    The other day I was writing in my journal and Ivy was hovering over my shoulder.

    Ivy doing a puppet show

    “Do you want a sticker?” She asked.

    “Sure, I’ll take a sticker,” I replied without looking up. I continued writing.

    “Do you want a sticker?”

    “Yes, Ivy, I’ll take a sticker.” I don’t look up and continue to write.

    “Do you want a sticker?”

    “Yes,” I say and finally look up. She’s staring at the journal. “Oh.” I shake the journal like it’s talking, “Yes, I’ll take a sticker.” She looks pleased and starts putting stickers on my journal while I write. She was just going to sit there and talk to my journal until I got it through my thick skull that she wasn’t talking to me, apparently.

    She then said, “Foot want a sticker, puppet?”

    The journal has to shake and say, “Yes, of course foot wants a sticker.”

    She then puts multiple stickers on my foot and says, “That’s better.”

    On the “ignoring me” note. Sometimes I’ll say stuff to her, and she’ll just stare straight ahead and ignore me.

    The other day Beth said, “She doesn’t do that with me. She only ignores you like that.”

    It wasn’t twenty minutes prior that Ivy was saying something repeatedly over and over and I ignored her and said, “I can play the ignore game indefinitely.” I wasn’t being mean. She was just talking nonsense over and over in my direction and I wasn’t paying attention. If you’re a parent of a toddler, you understand.

    Like I said, it was 20 minutes later that I was asking a question straight to her face and she ignored me like a pro. Deadpan. Stared straight ahead. Like she couldn’t even hear me. I said to her, “Learned behavior, I respect it.”

    Ivy ignoring me like a pro

    The other day she woke up from a night’s sleep. I walked into her room and said, “good morning, how are you?” She looked up at me from her pillow, sat up, and said, “I want to cook. Anyone want food?”

    She also wants to be referred to as a teacher pretty constantly. Throughout the day if you call her Ivy she’ll reply, “me a teacher.” You then have to call her teacher to get a response.

    Ivy Teacher

    Toddler hack that I don’t know will work on any other toddler. Like I said, she loves puppets for some reason. Her love goes so far as to be respect, apparently. Ivy is pretty good about bedtime: brushing teeth, putting on diaper, putting on pajamas, and getting into bed. But, if we do have trouble with any of those steps, if a puppet gets involved and asks for the teeth to get brushed, she’s immediately compliant. I don’t know if she loves, respects, or fears puppets more.

    We are on the tail end of potty training, she’s pretty much there. The other day I put her on the potty and told her to let us know if she needed anything. I left her stool at her feet and walked out. This wasn’t the first time I’d done this. What made this time unique was Beth and I, from the couch, could hear her in the bathroom singing. Then suddenly *clapping. “Is she clapping?” We said to each other.

    She walked out, shut the door behind her, and said, “me pooped.” She gave herself a round of applause, shut the door, then came out to exclaim that she had pooped.

    The other day she started teaching Sage how to pray. She grabbed Sage’s arms and folded them and whispered, “Heavenly Father. Thank you. Amen.” Then she said, “Good job Sagey!”

    I was at a restaurant with Ivy after a basketball game and the person I was with was asking if she wanted brown or white rice in the bowl Ivy and I would be sharing. I thought about it and said brown. He said he thought kids preferred white rice. I said that was probably true, but I was being selfish. That was it. End of discussion about brown rice. For the past 4 months Ivy, every single day and night, when in her room and she’s playing with her kitchen, asks us if we want brown rice. She’ll come up and put her hand on your knee or shoulder and say, “You want brown rice Daddy?” I almost never get my brown rice, for the record.

    On the topic of somehow picking up on something and never letting it go. I had this book I was reading that Ivy got ahold of and drew all over the cover with black sharpy. You’d be amazed at how calmly I took this. Anyway, one day I had the book and I said to Ivy, “Ivy, this book is so good. I might give it to my friend Zach. What do you think he’ll think of your additions?”

    The destruction

    I don’t remember her response. What I do remember is every time she’s seen that book since she’s asked, “Daddy give to Zach?” Zach then became somewhat of a celebrity in our house. She’ll just randomly be like, “Does Zach have knees?” (Real thing she asked). Along with tons of other random statements and questions about Zach.

    This is just the beginning of Ivy Thoughts. I’m already well into Part 2. More to come. Hope you enjoyed!