Hard at Play

Every time someone asks me about Ethan's milestones, I search the blog.  It's only been four years, but memory completely fails me when I'm on the spot to report on when he started sitting up or crawling.  Luckily, I don't have to have that information on hand.  Whenever he did anything new, I wrote about it.  My posts were my digital baby book.

Poor little Everett will not have the same type of bloggy documentation.  There are so many reasons, not just that he is the second child.  We're equally amazed when he does new things, and delight in all of his developmental milestones.  I'm just doing a really terrible job of keeping up with my digital baby book.  It's much easier to throw a pic up on Facebook than it is to find the time to write a whole post.

For example, here are some amazing pictures from when he was about six months old.  He looks pretty much the same now, just a little older.  *Almost* wanted to pass these off as recent, but that would defeat the whole purpose of the blog being an accurate documentary.  Also, friends who have access to my aforementioned Facebook account would call me out, since they all saw these pictures pretty much as soon as Ryan shot them.

A few of the many faces of Everett

It's high time to play catch up.  You know - just in case I ever need to know the dates of all of his firsts.  Or prove that I love him just as much as Ethan.  So, without further ado or excuses, I give you my "All About Everett" blog entry:

Weight:  24 lbs. at 12 months

Height:  30.5 in. at 12 months

Food:  Weaned himself at 11 months, completely switched to table food at 12 months.  Kissed his bottles goodbye, switched to sippy cups, and never looked back.

Sleep:  Phenomenal sleeper.  He doesn't really sleep much at daycare, but he's great on the weekends and at night.  On weekends, he'll wake up at around 7:30, eat breakfast, play for a little bit, and then take a two hour nap at around 9am.  He may or may not take a short afternoon nap as well.  He is usually in bed between 6:00 - 7:00, falls asleep without even a smidgen of protest, and is out cold all through the night.

Motor:  Rolled over at 4.5 months, sat up at 8 months, and crawled at 8.5 months - on my dad's birthday!  To keep the trend going, Everett started walking on his first birthday!  Not as his main mode of transportation, but took multiple steps in a row, several times throughout the day.  I'm gonna go ahead and call that walking.  He'll push anything that will move around the house for as long as you'll let him.  This applies to *actual* push toys, his musical table, dining room chairs... if it can be pushed, he's on it.

Social:  Loves his brother, his daycare teachers, his aunties (official and otherwise), his parents, the stranger in the grocery store that smiles at him... he's a lovey boy.  He bee's-knees-adores Ethan, though.  Everything that Ethan does elicits a hearty belly laugh from Everett.  This has resulted in my boys discovering and perfecting pratfall slapstick comedy.  It's not nurture, it's nature.  I'm convinced.

Speech:  I thought his first word was Mama ("I'm sure you do!" says Ryan from the peanut gallery), but now that I'm typing this I'm remembering that it was "bye."  He can say mama, dada, uh oh, this, bye, and so many other things that we just can't interpret yet.  He has a habit of saying, "Mamamamama!!!" when he wants something.

Other:  Cut his first tooth a few days before his six month birthiversary.  Has a mouth full of 'em now.  At last count, there were at least twelve visible teeth, with a few more coming through.  It's possible there are more, but I'm not willing to stick my fingers in his mouth to investigate.  They call them chompers for a reason!

Play:  Is officially playing with toys, rather than just putting them in his mouth.  Videographic proof of Everett hard at play is found below:



In a nutshell, this kid is awesome.  We totally lucked out.

(Almost) On a Roll

Things I learned while filming this video:

1) Everett is a determined little guy, just like his big brother. (This can be both a blessing and a curse, depending on what the boys are determined to do. In this case, the determination to figure out how to roll over is adorable and endearing. Put a tally in that blessing category.)

2) Gone are the baby blob days when all he did was eat and sleep. Everett is growing up quickly, and developing quite a personality. I suppose he was born with free will (debate this amongst yourselves), but he's just now getting to the point where he's old enough to execute it. I love watching him choose to do something.

3) There's a reason why the play mat comes with structured plastic inserts to hold up the sides... and I should probably spend the weekend searching the garage for them.

His technique is a bit unorthodox, but I guarantee it'll yield results!

In the Blink of an Eye

There are a handful of nostalgic movies that I will always watch if they are on TV. One of my favorites is Big - a Tom Hanks classic. It's one of those films that sucks me in and absorbs 100% of my attention. I am physically unable to change the channel. It makes me *that* happy.

Some Broadway producers tried to capture that magic by making it into a musical. Sadly, it compeltely tanked, and was only on the Great White Way for a little under six months. However, that was long enough for my high school drama director to see it and decide that we would perform Big: The Musical in the Spring of my Junior year. I was cast as Mrs. Baskin, aka Tom Hanks' mother. For lots of different reasons too numerous to go into, we didn't end up doing the musical. I instead played Sarah Brown in Guys and Dolls that year, another one of my favorites. But every now and then, I think about the show that never was and how much fun it would have been to perform. Of the songs that Mrs. Baskin sings, "Stop Time," has always stuck with me. It was moving when I was 16, but now that I'm thirtysomething and have two kids of my own, it means oh-so-much more.

I go back to work in a little over two weeks, which marks the end of my days at home with tiny boy. My maternity leave has flown by, and I know it's just the beginning of time slipping away from me. As I hold Everett and stare at his itty bitty baby features, I think about how quickly Ethan has grown, and Mrs. Baskin's song plays on a loop in my head:


Two months old, he looks up at you.
How his smile melts your heart!
You want to say, "Stop, time."
"Don't move on."
Even as you watch, that look is gone.

Then he's two, such a little man.
So alive and so smart!
Again you say, "Stop, time."
"Stay just this way."
But the future comes, and he can't stay.

Nobody warns you of this parent's paradox -
You want your kid to change and grow,
But when he does, another child you've just begun to know,
Leaves forever.

Birthdays fly - 7, 8, 9, 10.
Every kid he becomes you clutch and say "Stop, time."
"Hold this one fast!"
But it's not supposed to last.
And that time has come and passed.
For he's growing,
And he has to go.

Everett's Birth Story (Finally!)

Here's how the story *should* have gone:

"Knowing that we were going to have a repeat c-section, we scheduled everything in advance. We booked the surgery for 9:00am on December 8th, 2011. I got a full eight hours of blissful sleep the night before, and woke up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed on the morning of our big day. I had time to shower, curl my hair, and put on makeup. We took a leisurely drive to the hospital, and everything went as planned. Friends were anxiously huddled in the waiting room, ready to toast Everett's arrival with bottles of sparkling cider and red Solo cups in hand. Everett was born at 9:30am, and Mommy and baby were happy and healthy." Short. Sweet. Predictable. Of course, we all know that babies sometimes have a mind of their own...

Here's how the story *actually* goes:

On Friday, December 2nd, I was working from home. I had just finished my last work task for the day when my best friend, Ingrid, called me. She said she had a funny feeling that I was going to have the baby early, and wanted to work out the logistics for taking care of Ethan in case I went into labor. "Don't you worry about that," I told her. "I feel fine, and the c-section is only a week away. There's no way I'm going into labor before then."

What happened next? I went into labor, of course. Not an hour after telling Ingrid that I wouldn't. Cause that's what happens when you make such a bold statement. The universe knocks you down a few pegs and shows you who's boss.

I wasn't quite ready to accept that my contractions were the real thing. I'd been having some pretty intense Braxton Hicks action off and on throughout the last few months of the pregnancy, and I was in total denial that these contractions were different. You see, I'm a planner. And I had a really good plan cooked up for welcoming this baby into the world. Unexpected labor and a trip to the hospital did not fit into those plans. I sheepishly called Ingrid, and began a slightly panicked conversation by saying, "Soooooo, remember how, like forty five minutes ago, I swore up and down that I wouldn't be going into labor?" She offered to come over right away, but still being in denial, I told her I'd call her in a hour after I'd had a chance to lie down. I made another few panicked phone calls, including one to Ryan, who happened to be enjoying himself at a "Last Hurrah Happy Hour" thrown by his work buddies. In the city. Ninety minutes away with rush hour traffic.

Resting didn't help. A shower didn't help. Crying certainly didn't help. And so, finally, I relented and faced reality: this baby was not going to wait. He was ready, and didn't care that I wasn't. I called Ingrid and told her to come on over. Thankfully, she had decided to ignore me when I told her to wait for my call, and was already on her way. Ryan had begun making his way home as well.

By the time we were headed to the hospital, things had already started to get real. I'd heard that labor can progress more quickly with your second baby, but I didn't expect it to progress this quickly. Four hours into my labor with Ethan, I wasn't totally sure that I was actually in labor. Four hours in this time around, I was in tears. Thankfully, since we had already decided to take the doc's advice to have a repeat c-section, I knew I wouldn't have long to wait. Eight hours into labor, I was being wheeled into the operating room.

Unlike the emergency c-section with Ethan where I had to be put under general anesthesia, I was able to get a spinal instead. I was so excited to witness the birth of my child, but was also very nervous about the whole process. There's a bit of blissful ignorance when you're unconscious for a major surgery. I was prepared for the recovery, but had no idea what to expect out of the actual being-cut-open-and-having-a-baby-yanked-out-of-you thing. Luckily, the c-section went really well, and Everett was born at 2:46am on December 3rd, 2011.

Everett was healthy, but not breathing well enough on his own. He had some fluid in his lungs and wasn't getting enough oxygen, so he had to stay in the NICU for four days. I wasn't able to nurse him for the first two days due to his breathing apparatus. We did get a lot of skin to skin bonding time, and (the one perk to having a baby in the NICU instead of in your room with you) I was able to get some rest between pumping and snuggling time.

Under those blankets, our kiddo was a big bundle of tubes and wires.
Slowly but surely, Everett's condition improved, and they moved him from the CPAP to the nasal cannula, took out the tube going down his throat into his stomach, and weaned him off of the IV fluids. When I was able to begin nursing he took to it like a champ, and hasn't looked back since. I was initially a little worried about the loss of bonding time, but he quickly reassured me that we were thick as thieves, even if we couldn't be hospital roomies. He'd instantly calm down when in my arms, falling asleep to the sound of me softly singing what would become his favorite songs. I can't really put it into words, but when I held him, it was like we'd known each other forever. It was hard to walk back to my room and leave him in the NICU, but deep down I felt like he knew that I'd be back. He usually just slept in between my visits - the nurses would call me when he woke up so that I could be with him. That made me feel a lot better during the long, slow walk back to my room. I left him with enough love and comfort to make his dreams sweet, and was by his side almost as soon as he woke from his peaceful slumber.

Ethan and Ryan spent a lot of time in the hospital with me, and I relished those little moments when we were together as a family of four. Ethan wore his big brother scrubs from Mima and Poppa when he came to the hospital to meet his future best buddy, which resulted in a lot of ooooohing and aaaaahing from the doctors and nurses.

A pack of crackers AND a baby brother? Best. Day. Ever.
He stared with wonder into Everett's eyes, gently touching his baby brother's fingers and toes through the "portholes" in Everett's isolette.

You were that small once upon a time, big brother.
Unbeknownst to me, my dad had been scheming with Ryan since August, and had a secret visit planned that turned out to be perfectly timed. He arrived on the evening of December 6th, and surprised me in the hospital. I was floored, and turned into a heap of tears. See for yourself:

It's a bit of an embarrassing video, but the reaction was too good not to post.
We were released on December 7th, the day before I was supposed to be entering the hospital all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and curly-haired and pretty-faced. It worked out nicely, though, our impatient boy's unanticipated arrival. Ryan's parents flew in the next day, and were able to get more QBST (quality baby snuggling time) at home than they would have if Everett was still in the hospital.

It just goes to show - you can plan and plan, and be certain that you know the "right" way for everything to work out, and still end up being so totally wrong. Babies arrive at the perfect time, whether you want them to or not. Looking back, it was silly of me to want to wait for his scheduled arrival. On Everett's schedule, I ended up with five bonus days with my tiny boy.

Perfect timing, little man. Thank you for that.

Cue the Second-Time-Around Guilt!

Wow. On December 22nd, (which was almost three weeks after Everett was born, by the by), I wrote the following phrase on our birth announcement post:

"Birth story to follow soon!"

It's now January 30th. Over a month later. Doesn't exactly fall within that whole "soon" window, does it? Everett is almost two months old now. I've yet to tell the tale of his arrival, give you stats on height and weight and developmental milestones, brag about what a good big brother Ethan is, and plaster pictures of my baby boy for all the world to see.

I posted a photo and announced Ethan's birth on THE DAY he was born. That's right, I blogged from the hospital, peeps. Four days later, I wrote his birth story, complete with more pictures. I blogged about all of his "firsts" a week after he was born - his first car ride, first visitors, first bath... you get the idea. By the time Ethan was two months old, I had written eleven blog entries and Ryan had conducted multiple professional photo shoots.

And here I find myself, three years and some change later, two months into holding a tiny snorting newborn in my arms again. And all I've done is posted one picture and made an empty promise.

Mother. Of. The. Year.

I've totally let Everett fall prey to the stereotype of a second child. You could wallpaper the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel with the number of pictures of baby Ethan we have. I have a few great photos of Everett, but they're mostly from my iPhone, as we've not had time to do any "real" photo shoots with him yet.

Ryan tells me to rest assured, that since "all newborns look the same" we can just show Everett's first girlfriend embarrassing pictures of a random newborn we found on a Google image search, and nobody would be the wiser.

Here's where I ask myself the tough questions: Do I love Everett any less than I love Ethan? Absolutely not. Do I enjoy being a mommy to a newborn any less than I did with Ethan? No way - I may even enjoy it more, now that I'm not a trembling, terrified blob of irrational fears. Does the fact that I've neglected my blog mean that I'm neglecting my child(ren)? Not in a million years.

I have a baby, a three-year-old, and a husband who works full-time (as opposed to his full-time grad student status when Ethan was a baby, which meant that he was home a whole lot more). Our household is so busy right now that sometimes it's all I can do to remember to eat lunch. If I had to give myself a grade for my daily accomplishments, I'd have to say that I'm rocking a solid C+ average. Calculated as follows:

1) Baby loving: A+
2) Big brother doting: A+
3) Daily shower opportunities: B-
4) Cooking: C+
5) Cleaning: C
6) Newborn photo ops: D+
7) Blogging: F

If I have to fail in any areas (and those who know me well will know that I consider anything less than an A a failing grade...), I'd rather fail in items 3 - 7. My boys mean the world to me, and if all I have to give right now is zapped after making sure that they're happy and healthy, then so be it.

So, Everett, if you're reading this twenty years from now, please know that you are so very loved. I can't prove it by showing you post after post about your first few glorious months on this planet, but that's only because I was too busy enjoying every minute.

(PS, dear readers - Birth story to follow soon!)

Someone Wants to Say Hello...

Birth story to follow soon!