So as you can tell by the pictures, Ivan and I went up to Edmonds and had quite a full 4-day weekend. So here's the cutest story from the whole time:
Sunday morning we were sitting down to eat breakfast, and my mom called for my dad "Steve!" So Ivan smiles and yells "Steve!" Then my mom yelled again, "Steve!" And Ivan smiles and yells "Steve!"
And mind you, Ivan is very true to the whole "mama," "dada," "gamma," "gampa" thing. We can never get him to call us by our first names.
So he gets up from his little table in the family room and walks up to my Aunt Sharon in the dining room and says "Steve!" My Aunt Sharon looks at him and says "I'm Aunt Sharon," and my mom says "grandpa is Steve."
Ivan looks at my mom like "what?" And he says "Steve gampa?" He seemed genuinely concerned that he had called "gampa" by his first name.
So when we got home yesterday I told B the story, and Ivan looks at him and says "Steve gampa, gampa Steve."