it was just the three of us then. we were settling in our new place in the US that time. new parents in a foreign land, with no friends to invite over to celebrate our son’s first. still, i cooked spaghetti and husband baked blueberry pie based on a random recipe book i got from the library. i even bought party hats for the three of us and a candle for dear son to blow. we celebrated our first born, prayed for him, blew the candle for him (because he still couldn’t figure out how) and, with tears of love and joy, tried to take our family picture.

the first born will always, and rightly, have a special place. he practically went through all the changes with us. from him being the only child, to experiencing the shock of seeing a new baby sister in the car seat when he was 2, to now being a kuya (big brother) to three. while his younger siblings just went along not knowing, our first born was always sensitive enough to see and feel the major transitions  our family went through: the move from house to house, new friends, new set-up, unfamiliar culture and new life. 

his name, Alab, is a filipino word that means blaze or ardor of fire. specifically, a blaze which is usually associated with the glow of heat from an ember.

“Nag-aalab ang apoy.”

“The flame is blazing.”

if you know him, you know that he is quickly living up to his name. in almost everything he does, he does with passion, fervor and with such focus.

football. reading books. math. history. telling/writing stories. nature.

but most of all, building.

one of the things he loves to do is build. he can spend the whole afternoon building quietly since he was two years old. he builds using legos, blocks, and simple materials like paper and sticks. once he gets his hands on something, it is quickly transformed. 

and so, for his 7th:

he shared his love for building with his friends using popsicle sticks, rubber bands and clips.  

the kids, with the help of their parents, carefully built their own small catapult.