Gavin's Birth Story

It was a typical Monday. Mike was off to work, Ethan was off to school.. I stayed home with every intention to relax but somehow "relaxing" only made me more anxious. I had watched every show on DVR, trolled craigslist for baby gear, did a few loads of laundry, even finished painting the mural in Gavin's nursery. I went to Target that morning, got some Chinese food for lunch, Walgreens that afternoon to buy snacks for Mike (for whenever I go into labor). It was becoming quite apparent how exhausting it is just waiting to go into labor. Gavin wasn't due for another week, but I did convince my doctor to push my induction to Wednesday morning. 2 more days, I kept thinking... 2 more days...

So you can imagine my surprise that Monday night... we had just finished watching the latest episode of House. I felt like crap, as usual, but wasn't having any contractions. And then... the uneventful event happened. My water broke. No... I didn't stain the couch. I didn't pee all over the carpet either. But it broke alright... it was around 9:30pm. I yelled for Mike, and after calling my sister to tell her "this is NOT a drill" and a few minutes of last minute packing and Mike nervously looking for a "rope" to tie off the umbilical cord in case we don't make it all the way to the hospital... we were off.

By the time we got to the hospital, my family was already there. They wheeled me off to Labor and Delivery and I got comfortable in that horrid hospital gown pretty quickly. Slowly, my pain rating climbed from a 2 to a 4 to a 6. It sucked, but it was manageable. My mom said if I was still texting, that it couldn't be THAT bad.

I told the nurses the first chance I got that I wanted the epidural, but for some reason or the other, they couldn't give it to me right away. I had to get my blood drawn, they said. I don't know what the hell was going on at 10pm that it took them forever to draw my blood and get it to the lab.

Within 2 hours, the contractions have gotten so bad that I found myself yelling in pain -- something I didn't remember doing when I gave birth to Ethan. For what it's worth, Mike talked me through breathing through the contractions. I found a spot on the ceiling to focus on and held on to the siderail because I didn't By the time they drew my blood, the lab got the results, and the anesthesiologist got to the room, I was already 9 cm dilated. I was ready to push. I remember the anesthesiologist talking to the nurse, telling her it was too late for me to get it. I just kept thinking.. holy shit, this hurts.

No, no, no. Unacceptable. I don't remember if I spat out profanity, I don't think I did.... I just remember saying "please" a lot. I could've cursed them out politely, I suppose. Mainly, I begged for them not to let me go through it without drugs. Sure, people do it all the time. But I wasn't about to if I could help it. Mike kept saying "you can do this, I know you can". No offense, hun, but I hate you right about now.

They ended up administering the epidural after much begging. By then I was already ready to push. The anesthesiologist told me he can't sit me up because I was in too much pain, so he'll have to do it with me laying down - which apparently takes his difficulty level up a notch. I promised to stay still through the contractions, which is A LOT harder than it sounds. He stuck my back and waited inbetween the peaks. It took maybe 20 minutes for me to feel it, but it was too late..... It was go time. I don't remember much anymore after that.

Next thing you know, he was in my arms. He was finally here.... there's no feeling like the first time you see that baby. He was perfect. But my favorite part of it all was introducing Ethan to his baby brother.

Ethan, meet Gavin. Gavin, meet Ethan.

Gavin, meet the world.

Sometimes, First Place is just Better!

Didn't seem all that long ago that we're bribing Ethan to ditch his training wheels. Why am I ever surprised anyway? This kid has far excelled in everything he does!

Still, when we entered him into his first bike race, we knew we had a lot of work to do as far as teaching him good sportsmanship.

"It's not always all about winning."

"Always do your best and have fun."

We try to focus on making sure he has fun, above all else. But really, kids know the difference between winning and losing, regardless of whether or not there's a scorekeeper or medals or trophies. I've learned that ranking achievement is something they pick up on their own, and as parents, the best we could do is try to help them not be discouraged whenever they do end up on the losing end. I am a firm believer that sometimes, it's in losing that we learn the biggest lesson, and failing is what propels the greatest to succeed.

As my Tito Jess would say, "Try and try until you succeed!" :)


In Ethan's eyes, of course, things are much simpler than that. Competition is competition. And at 4 years old, he's pretty convinced that you're not a winner unless you cross the line first.

So he did just that this weekend!

This is Ethan BEAMING after he won. His excitement was priceless!

Proudly showing off his medal

Family support is very important to us and there sure is no shortage of that when it comes to cheering on Ethan!

Ethan's biggest cheerleaders!

THIS IS MY FAVORITE SHOT: Ethan telling the baby all about him winning the race!

Who Needs an Abacus When You Got Jenga!

I'm not exactly sure when Ethan decided that he loves Math (clearly not MY strong suite), but it's amazing, at 4, how strong his arithmetic skills are. It's about the only subject he's almost always interested in.

Last night, after working with him on writing his full name, I promised I would let him play on "dot com disney" (he likes to play the games on playhousedisney.com) if he would practice writing his numbers. Sure enough, by the time he got to 4, he had already lost interest despite the "reward". He eventually finished it and I thought he would be done with lessons for the rest of the night when Mike strolled in with a challenge.

He wrote this on Ethan's paper:

1 + 2 + 3 + 4 =

5 + 6 =

7 + 5 =


"I will give you 5 extra minutes on the computer for every problem you solve," he said.

Ethan was surely up for the challenge. And although he could do the math with his fingers, I figured it'd be more fun for him to use the jenga blocks as a manipulative. This fancy term, manipulative, simply means using items with your child as visual aids of the mathematic concepts you are trying to teach.

Too easy....... :)


I ♥ seeing him feel accomplished!

Ethan Learns How to Ride after 2 Lessons!!

5 days ago, we took Ethan's training wheels off for the first time and had to come up with some creative encouragement to convince Ethan to TRY......... just TRY.... riding his bike on two wheels.

Mike and I figured we'd take turns with holding the seat, it was less strain on my back because I'm apparently closer to the ground. It was at least good exercise for us having to run after him up and down the street.

Yesterday, we figured we'd try again.... still got some resistance from Ethan, but we eventually got him on the bike.

And within 10 minutes, he was off by himself!!!!!!!!!!

We couldn't believe it!

The look on my face when I first let go of the seat

Ethan's first ride with daddy

AND........ I'm pretty proud to report....... he learned with no scratches/bruises to boot!

Bye Bye Training Wheels

Everyone has their own fond memory of the first time they learned to ride a bike. Mine was pretty uneventful. No one held my seat. No one gave me pats on the back or high fives (in fact, I distinctly recall being told that "girls are not supposed to ride bikes"). I didn't have training wheels. I didn't even have my own bike. I was 7 years old, spending another summer at my grandma's farm in the province, and I was bored. I learned on my Aunt Tessie's bike (which was obviously too large for me) and I fell more times than I could tolerate. I remember being discouraged... having to jump up to find the seat while trying to pedal forward only to get thrown to the opposite side. I don't remember being scared to get hurt, although I'm sure I earned a few cuts and bruises along the way. I was determined to get on that stupid bike. I eventually learned sometime that summer... and after that, I remember gaining freedom like I'd never experienced before. I would disappear for hours and came back with satisfaction of having been to places I never would've seen by just walking.

Fast forward to 2010. Ethan is now 4 1/2 and we're trying to convince him to ditch the training wheels. Mike finally got them off..... and naturally, Ethan decided he changed his mind and wanted them back on. He whined and whined and whined. We couldn't understand why. He's a big advocate of graduating from baby to "big kid" and we thought he would welcome dissing the training wheels if it meant being one of the big boys.

"I'm scared," he finally reluctantly admitted. "I'm scared I would fall."

Duh Mom! And although I am a secret self-proclaimed superhero, I couldn't promise him he wouldn't get hurt in the process. Instead, we resorted to what every parent (or politician) resorts to during a time of desperation.

BRIBERY.

"If you let me throw away your training wheels, I will buy you......... Lots-o' Bear," Mike said.

(This is one of Ethan's must-haves for the week, it even got on the top 5 of his Christmas List. I asked him why he would want to have the mean bear from Toy Story 3, and he said because he smells like strawberries. If you haven't seen the movie, you won't get it.)

This is Ethan contemplating before taking the offer

After taking it into consideration, Ethan finally agreed. But Mike's negotiating skills apparently need some honing. Because Ethan's conditions included us NEVER LETTING GO and that he could quit after about a MINUTE of trying.

After "encouraging" him to try a little bit longer (in exchange for Cold Stone ice cream), Ethan was a trooper. He needs to work on looking straight ahead. But there were a few moments when I barely held on to the back edge of the seat, and at one point, I even let go. And he would've been fine had he not turned around to check if I was still there...... but it was definitely a proud moment... even if it only lasted a measly few seconds.

So hopefully, we can try again tonight. We need to prep him for a race Mike signed him up for in 2 weeks. :) He has a lot of practicing to do if he wants to be as fast as daddy.... who, by the way, placed 12th last weekend! Go daddy!

No Ethan for 2 Weeks!!! =(

Mike and I both woke up this morning at the usual 5:45 and were a little relieved we could hit snooze on both alarms. This is day 1 of not having Ethan. As promised, he gets to spend 2 weeks in Ohio with Grandma, Poppi, and "old" Grandma.

I don't get to sleep in very much, so I was happy to get the extra 15 minutes. When we finally got out of bed to get ready for work (45 minutes later), we found ourselves (even with the extra sleep) with seemingly a little too much time of just......... silence.

No Dora the Explorer in the background to "encourage" Ethan to get out of bed. Mike usually dresses Ethan, only for me to look at him and decide on the spot that I didn't like his outfit so I change him again. Mike didn't have to cook microwavable pancakes. I had to fight traffic without the carpool lane because the carseat behind me was empty.

It was really weird.

Last night, we had our first Skype date... something I had made mandatory on this trip to have every night before he goes to bed. He was so blown away by all the new toys Grandma got him, that he didn't even seem like he missed us one bit!

Ethan's First Tball Season

Well! The season's over... and we're all a little bummed about it. It was the first team sport we put him in, and he enjoyed it a lot... looking forward to every baseball practice and the "real game" on early Saturday mornings. The early wake up calls aren't going to be missed as much, but being able to give Ethan the opportunity to make friends, learn the fundamentals of a sport he clearly loves and learn about teamwork was priceless.

And because I was a bad mommy and didn't post after every weekend of tball, here's my sad attempt of a season wrap up.


The kids were all a hoot, 9 boys and 1 girl. They don't have much concept of "positions"... it's more like "whoever gets the ball first wins". For the first few games, the kids were like puppies climbing over each other to get the ball, arms and legs flying wildly in the scrum. Frequently, whichever kid won the ball in the scrum would just hold it up over his head triumphantly... then look around while the coaches and parents (including myself) yell "Throw it to first base!" Eventually, towards the end of the season, they started to learn to stay within their own boundaries.

But attention spans being what they are, each game would start to deteriorate a bit after the first two innings. The trick was to rotate the kids so that they all have a chance to "do something" other than wait. Seeing as we played 90% of the games on grass and not dirt, the balls didn't normally go past the pitcher's mound, so unless you were the pitcher, the short stop or the first baseman, there really wasn't much action to go around. In Ethan's case, there are times when he said he didn't want to play anymore because he didn't get the ball... but when he did get the ball, you would think the boy had just won the World Series. Their favorite part was batting and running around the bases. They all got considerably better in the few weeks they played, and Ethan especially loved wacking that ball as hard as he could!

He also loved being the catcher, or as we called it, the "Transformer". Putting on all that gear never appealed to the kids until we started calling it that, then everyone wanted to be the Transformer. Since the kids hit from a tee, the catcher's job was solely to get the ball thrown from first base and put it on the tee and sometimes tag the kids running to home plate.

During one of the games, several outfielders got into a wrestling match, which the coach decided wasn't worth the effort to defuse. There was one particular kid who would sporadically take himself out of the "game" and just hang out with the rest of us on the side. Ethan danced when he got bored......

The sidelines (ie makeshift dugouts in the outfield) were always filled with proud parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins in lawn chairs, many with dogs and/or younger siblings trying on helmets that covered their whole head. One of the best parts of the season was watching parents step up to be base coaches. EVERY SINGLE PARENT of the kids on the team were at some point on the field cheering on every player (not just their own). Of course, I instinctively became the unofficial team photographer. Everything was so chaotic, not necessarily in a bad way, but most parents were too busy either coaching on a base or getting the next batters up ready, that they got too busy to take pictures on their own. I made sure all the parents had a chance to have some of those memories preserved....

Coach Mark and Coach Mando were great with the kids, especially Coach Mark. His kid played in the same league last year, but this was his first year coaching. Practices were at 4 on Tuesdays so my mom and dad took Ethan to practice, so my interaction with the coach was limited to the Saturday games.... but he was GREAT with the kids. He coached them no different from coaching his own. And the best part was that at the end of the season, he was truly and genuinely proud of each of one of them. So proud, in fact, that he ended up buying personalized trophies for all the kids (the league would only provide medallions).

The end of the season was bittersweet. Yes, these are only 4 year olds, and yes, there will be plenty more baseball seasons in our future. But this was his first. His first uniform. His first team. His first single. His first slide home. His first coach. His first trophy.

Way to go Ethan! Mommy and Daddy are PROUD OF YOU!

GO CUBS!!!!