And Now She Is 11

I'm a little late with this, but here goes:

When I was younger, I was a babysitter.  And not just any babysitter, I was a fantastic, highly sought after babysitter--one of the most popular in my (very) small town. Middle school, high school, and even much of college was financed in this manner.  But do you want to know a secret?  I never really liked taking care of the older kids (there are a handful of exceptions to this, and they know who they are!).  I loved, loved, loved the babies, toddlers, and even preschoolers.  I loved reading to them, cuddling with them, rocking them, doing arts and crafts...all of it.  I just loved the little ones!  When I was pregnant for the first time, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I would love that baby.  I knew I would know how to care for that baby, and I knew that the first few years with that baby would be the best years of my life.  However, I always secretly worried that when that baby got older, my love would fade, my interest would wane, and I would have to fake enthusiasm for whatever they were doing.  Of course, like so many of my preconceived notions about parenting, I really never had to worry about this!  (Love fade??? What??  The things you learn...)

My first baby, the one that made me a mother, the one that changed our lives in so many awesome ways, is now 11 years old.  She has entered the years that I never thought I would enjoy and here I am, soaking up every minute of it.  Today, we were riding back from one of her fencing lessons and we were talking about her first big tournament that is coming up.  She is excited and nervous and scared and eager...everything you would expect of someone about to really stretch their wings for the first time.  It was at that moment that it really dawned on me how very much I LOVE LOVE LOVE having an older kid!  She and I are going to head out next weekend, on our own! We are going to get a hotel room and hang out.  We are going to a fencing tournament where I will support this amazing kid as she does something SHE loves, and I will love every second of it!  We will share meals and treats and a long car ride.  We will talk about everything and nothing.  We will laugh and joke and connect in ways that we simply can't when surrounded by younger siblings.  I'm so lucky to have a kid on the cusp of the rest of her life and I can't put into words how much I'm enjoying being with her.  A friend of mine with older kids (in their 20s) told me that having grown kids is so much fun--I was hesitant to believe her, but now I'm sure she is right.  If my 11yo is so awesome and just gets more and more awesome with each passing day and year, I can only imagine what having a 20yo will be like!  (But not too soon, Erin, let's enjoy being 11 first, okay??)

Happy Birthday to my biggest kid--you are simply amazing, really and truly AMAZING. 

(Erin after this year's Polar Bear Plunge on January 1st)

Three years...

And, of course, I cannot let February 12th, my amazing son's birthday, go past without also thinking of the tremendous loss that happened three years ago--the day he turned two.  We had just finished up cake and ice cream when I got the call that Amy, my dearest friend and strongest supporter, had lost her battle with cancer.  It was a call that we knew was coming, we all expected, but nobody was ready for.  So now, three years later, when I can still hear her voice and laughter and still see her amazing smile, I need to take a moment to be with the fact that I miss her more than words can say.  Always.

Amy and Megan at a Red Sox game in 2010

Five already!

There is something to be said for being 5.  Five is just about the coolest age (you know, like all the others that I love!).  Five is independent, but not quite (how does making a pb and j take 37 dishes and 17 knives?  Just ask a 5yo to do it!).  Five is rambunctious days and still loving the cuddly stories at night.  Five is running down the street to a friend's house ALL BY MYSELF!  Five is passionate about life and discovery.  Five is insightful questions followed immediately by ridiculous knock-knock jokes over and over and over.  Five is just awesome!

Here is Evan with Brian Butterfield, the Red Sox Third Base Coach. He came to Orono with the trophy, so of course Evan was there!

Here he is with his "general manager" fancy clothes on (usually when a uniform is in the wash), helping Daddy trim a tree.

And here he is in his first mountain bike race--a rare moment without Red Sox gear on!!

Happy Birthday to my incredible, baseball-obsessed, loving, lively, funny, happy, amazing bundle of little boy!  Let's see if we can make it to 6 in one piece!

Hello Completely Ignored Blog!

Terrific Two!

I hate the Terrible Twos.  No, that's not right.  I hate that people think there is even such thing as the Terrible Twos.  Two-year-olds happen to be among the most incredible, funny, enjoyable, wonderful, emotional, happy, loving creatures on Earth.  I can't imagine ever NOT loving every minute of this time!  Yes, I even love those tantrums--oh those tantrums!  I feel so sad for my little kiddo who has come across some limit in life that cannot be explained well enough to soothe and is felt so deeply and harshly.  The tantrums remind me how much my little one is growing and learning and how I just need to guide, hold, cuddle, and love to the ends of the world.

I didn't get to enjoy Erin being two.  When she was two, we had this new little bundle of colic enter our life, we had just moved, and life was completely overwhelming me.  (Looking back, it seems funny to be overwhelmed by two kids, but at the time, I was just getting through the days.)  I have some cute video of Erin being two, but I don't remember it as well as I would like to and I know I didn't fully enjoy it as much as I could have.  Screaming newborns will do that to you.

I have very little memory of Megan being two.  When she was two, we had just lost Sophie.  I spent a lot of her second year fighting for my physical health and then fighting depression, struggling under the weight of grief so deep few people ventured in to help us.  Megan got a whole year at home with just me (Erin was at a Montessori school at the time), and I was not the mother I should have been for that little girl.  So while I regret the lack of memories of Erin being two, I still feel so so so so so much guilt for the lost time with Megan.  It is hard for me to talk about this lost year--for so many reasons.

Evan being two was amazing.  Chris and I marveled time and time again how much we loved having a two-year-old.  We lived and breathed the whole thing, noting over and over how it took us 4 kids to get a 2yo!  He language skills, his independence, his absolute love for anything his sisters did.  Amazing.  A 2yo's antics never stop and are filled with so much love and good will.  Truly incredible!!

And so here we are--on the eve of our final 2nd birthday.  As Jordan embarks on the journey from 2 to 3, we know she will bring as much love and joy to our family as each of her siblings has.  And me?  I'm ready for the ride.  I will do whatever I can to savor each moment, video/photograph what I can, snuggle up close whenever the moment presents itself, and just love the heck out of this little girl.  I can't wait!

Baseball season is over? NOT!

And for those of you who think I'm exaggerating or otherwise stretching the truth about my son living baseball EVERY SINGLE SECOND of his day, here is a picture from yesterday's hike. Note the batting helmet, the cap and glove tucked in his backpack, and the bat in his left hand. 

LOVE IT!

The Whole Story

It is very difficult to to describe something that is indescribable!  This post is my attempt to do just that.  To start from the beginning, Evan likes baseball.  Scratch that--Evan LOVES baseball.  Scratch that--Evan is COMPLETELY, TOTALLY and OVER-THE-TOP OBSESSED with baseball.  Wow...even that doesn't seem strong enough.  Evan lives and breathes baseball.  He has read every book our library has (fiction, non-fiction, biography, autobiography, you name it!).  He has read every book our town librarians are able to get their hands on from other libraries.  He has seen videos on the life and times of his favorite players and he has seen both videos made after the Red Sox (obviously his favorite team) won the World Series in 2004 and 2007.  (He is anxiously awaiting the no-doubt coming video on this year's win.)  All season, he would fall asleep listening to the Rex Sox games on the radio and wake in the morning to run to the computer and watch highlights streamed on-line.  He spends TONS of time every day throwing, sliding, hitting, begging someone to pitch to him (just one more time!), and practicing his base running and stealing.  He knows more about the sport and the players than any 4yo should know...but that is his love, his passion and it brings him so, so, so, so much joy.

Last week, his Grammy emailed us with a possible chance to take part in a batting practice session at Fenway Park.  He could have one go-round...10 balls to swing at.  I asked Evan if he wanted to do it.  I had to explain that it would be off a pitching machine (which he has never faced before) and that they may not be able to set it down low enough for his small strike zone.  I wanted to make sure he understood, before we got there, that it was entirely possible he would swing 10 times and miss 10 times.  This wasn't like playing with Grampy or Daddy (who would never end on a miss!) and that he would get 10 swings and then it would be the next batter's turn.  He didn't hesitate.  "But Mom," he said, "I could swing and miss 10 times AT FENWAY PARK!  I would be standing at HOME PLATE, AT FENWAY PARK!  Of COURSE I want to do it!!"  Thus, I began working out the arrangements.

Meanwhile, in an attempt to get him at least SOME time in front of a pitching machine before the big day, I called a few places that have batting cages in our area.  They are all closed for the season. Just on the off-chance something cool would happen, I called the head baseball coach at UMaine.  I fully expected his Administrative Assistant to calmly take a message and never get a response.  Amazingly, not only did the Head Coach answer the phone, he invited us over to use their $40,000 pitching simulator! They set it as slow as they could and as low as they could and Evan loved every minute of trying to hit 40mph "fast" balls that went over his head a bit. By the end of the morning, he was hitting a few of them.  He was feeling ready for today.  

This is where it simply becomes impossible for me to describe the joy he was feeling as he stepped onto the field.  The man doing the announcing asked him what number and position he wanted announced.  Evan thought for a minute, "Number 29, Left Field"  (Daniel Nava).  He carefully tried on batting helmets and weighed different bats, choosing the one he thought was the lightest and, he said, had the best grip.

"Now batting, number 29, left field, EVAN GERBI!"

I won't give you the play-by-play.  Suffice to say, on the 5th pitch, we all heard the crack of the bat and watched as the ball soared out of the batting cage and right down the middle of the field.  Did it hit the Green Monster?  No.  Did it go past the infield?  No.  Did it go that far at all?  Not really.  We are talking about a 35-pound 4yo swinging a too-heavy bat against a 45mph hard ball.  The physics of the situation are pretty obvious!  Did it wow the crowd and move his mother (and Grandmother, I must say!) to tears?  YES!  Will it be remembered for a long, long time?  The answer to that is clear. 
 

Waiting his turn!
 

He's UP!!

You have to be a Fenway Fan to understand this photo, but that is my little guy up on the big screen!  The one under the John Hancock sign!  Look!  He's famous!
 

Car ride on the way home...he may be a big time hitter, but he's still just 4!  It was a lot of excitement for one day!