One

Leading up to Damien's birthday ("YBD" for "Your Big Day," as it's referred to in the Kaplowitz family) I began to feel really guilty for having not planned a party. You only turn one once. I could have ordered a sheet cake decorated in a previously chosen theme that was also reflected in the invitations and the party favors, down to the napkins. But, I didn't and, I felt bad. There isn't really a good reason for why I didn't plan a party. I knew the family members who were able to make the trip wouldn't be available to come at the same time. Damien doesn't really have "friends" I could invite seeing as how he had only attended one playgroup of his own in his life to date. And I didn't see the need to invite the few friends we do have in the Dallas area to come celebrate a one year old's birthday. I knew a day with the family and some cake would be the extent of the festivities. Which, is great! But, I still felt bad.

I started counting down to his birthday when I realized that the two containers of formula I purchased two and a half weeks earlier were going to be his last. "No more bottles in a couple weeks...." I said several times, letting it trail off just like that, putting it out into the universe to see how it felt. Saddened at the thought of no longer getting that one-on-one feeding time before nap and bed (but, happy at the thought of no longer washing bottles!). I thought about his upcoming birthday when making his one year doctor appointment. And felt it sink in when commenting to those who asked how old he was that he would be one in 12, 8, 5, 2 days. The first birthday was fast approaching.

Time doesn't stand still in anticipation for a child's birthday, despite any amount of pleading from a desperate mother. And, just like that, it was here. I got my happy one-year old from his crib that morning. Whispered, "Happy Birthday" to him as we stood and he played with the blinds at the window, like always. I just stared at him. He looked the same, no different. But, he was different. It felt different to me. A lump crept to my throat, the same one I had on Kendan's first birthday. The familiar pressure on my chest and racing heart as I smile through tears in my eyes. But, I didn't cry. It's hard to when your baby is jumping up and down in your arms while "vrooming" at the car passing in the street below. I got him dressed and we descended to the kitchen for breakfast, just like always, nothing changed.

I picked up a smash cake that day and baked a bigger cake for the people who didn't want to eat the one Damien was going to dig his fingers into. We went to the park with Mamaw and Grandpa Guy who flew in for the occasion. It was clear outside, the sun was shining. Warm enough in February so that we wouldn't need coats. The birthday boy squealed on the swings and slide, oblivious to what made that day so special. Oblivious every day as to what makes him so special. An under-whelming first cake experience and a couple presents later, he had been one for a full day. I said goodnight to him that evening, he was worn out from YBD. I gave him his blankie and he burrowed his head into it on my shoulder. I just held him, thankful that he doesn't lift his head right away. He's happy to be held close at bed time, just like every night, nothing changed. And, even though invitations weren't sent out, streamers were not hung, and the house wasn't full of party-goers, Damien's first birthday was special. It was sweet, low-key, and full of happiness. I cannot think of a more perfect day for a baby who embodies all of those qualities.

Damien,

D. Brother. Muppet. You have given your family such joy in a very short year. We are blessed to have your smile and laughter every day, please do not let us forget it. You mimic every sound you hear. You eat more than all of us combined. You had four molars before your two front teeth came through. You give the sloppiest, open-mouthed kisses. You are silly. And content. And one. We love you.  Happy Birthday!

Motherhood

Every woman who is fortunate enough to have children will have a different experience with motherhood. Every child is different, every mom, every dad. I know this. But, out of all the parents and kids I have met, I have realized that we are much more similar than we think. Most first time moms go through high anxiety levels, and pass that anxiety onto their oldest. A lot of dads are the "fun" parent while mom is juggling discipline, preparedness, the schedule, and nurturing all at once. All kids possess tiny quirks that make them purely adorable and hilarious. I am so thankful that I can relate to other moms, even women I've just met, so closely. It makes me feel very connected in a role that can become very lonely day to day. I've commented many times to friends that I am not sure I could have survived being a stay-at-home mom in a world prior to technology in the palm of my hand. I can google any question I have, I can post pictures of my kids in an instant for distant relatives, and, most importantly, I can stay connected with friends who are, more than likely, having the exact kind of day I'm having. We're all in it together. Motherhood. Here's what it means to me:

Motherhood is having to go to the bathroom so badly but holding it because your toddler just exclaimed that he has to go potty.

Motherhood is cutting the tiniest fruits, even a blueberry, into halves or even quarters.

Motherhood is getting your child juice. And then a vitamin. And then his banana. And then some more cereal. And then some more milk. And then some more juice.... before you've ever even taken a bite of your breakfast, just to have him look at you and say, "Mama, you need to eat!"

Motherhood is going from a dead sleep to running upstairs as fast as you can when your child yells, "Potty!" in the middle of the night.

Motherhood is completely ignoring the signs stating the weight limit on jungle gyms to climb to the top and rescue your kid who is too afraid to come down the slide.

Motherhood is feeling guilty for having a messy house when you're playing and feeling guilty for neglecting your kids when you're cleaning.

Motherhood is holding your hands out for your baby to throw up into because there isn't a bucket handy.

Motherhood is not being able to relax at all until you know the kids are asleep at nap time.

Motherhood is never using the bathroom alone again.

Motherhood is translating every word, sound, grunt, sign, or bit of body language to people who don't spend all day with your kids. Sometimes even to their own father.

Motherhood is examining the contents of even the worst diapers to see if your child should stop eating a newly introduced food.

Motherhood is thinking that being out until 7pm is late.

Motherhood is finding sentimental value in every old shoe, scribbled on paper, favorite type of cookie, frequently read book, and most-watched shows that your children had, did, or had anything to do with.

Motherhood is proudly cheering them on at every milestone while sobbing on the inside because your baby is growing too fast.

Motherhood is praying your child starts feeling better but secretly loving that all they want is Mom when they're sick.

Motherhood is putting clean sheets on the beds in the morning just to have both kids wet them during nap that same day.

Motherhood is (sometimes) feeling unappreciated. But, also knowing that, to your kids, you're the prettiest, funniest, woman with the best singing voice and a kiss for every boo boo.

Motherhood is wearing yoga pants so often that when you actually shower, get dressed, and brush your hair (nothing special) your toddler exclaims, "Mommy, you look so pretty!"

Motherhood is counting down the minutes until bed time just to be reminded that the real peace comes when your infant falls asleep in your arms. If that moment never ended you'd be content.

Motherhood is the most important thing I will ever do with my life. It's frustrating, guilt-ridden, trying, tiring, hilarious, messy, loud, silly, never-ending. I am, in no way, the best mother. So far from perfect. But, I don't think I do (or have done) anything better than being a mom. I truly feel like I have found my purpose in life and cannot picture myself doing anything else with my time - at least for now.

Resolution

I think this is the first time I have ever written down New Year's resolutions. Be forewarned, this does not mean the following list is significant. So special it had to be documented before it was reduced to a fleeting thought. Probably not. Until now, I didn't have a forum to purge everything I am thinking. I suppose I had a diary at some point. Obviously it was not very important to me since I cannot definitively vouch for its existence. But, now I have this blog. And, even though these are not revelations people haven't already had, I am listing them. Maybe to help me remember what my resolutions are! Maybe as proof that I did reflect on the past year and strive to make changes. So, here they are, in no particular order... my New Year's Resolutions.

#7). Eat better. I know, I know. I'm already annoyed too. This could be anyone's list. Notice I didn't say "diet" though. I hate that word. Makes me feel like I'm being punished and like I cannot have dessert if I want it. Eating better isn't really a resolution for me. It's pretty much my daily mantra. I know I need to eat better; who doesn't? And, truthfully, I do eat plenty of healthy foods. #7 serves more as a reminder that I do NOT need to eat more than one cupcake in a sitting... or in a day, for that matter.

This container of cupcakes was on my lap today; I only ate two of the three.

#6). Set appointments. Doctors, dentist... hell, even hair appointments. I'm terrible at this. I need to start with having all of my current ailments checked out. That includes getting the weird grey patch on on my face looked at by a dermatologist. It's only been worrying me for a couple months now. See? I'm the worst. Regular check-ups would be next on the list. Why do I put them off? I know it's important to maintain my health by catching any potential issue early on. But, I cannot seem to make myself make the appointments. I'm not afraid, I'm just lazy. It needs to stop. Yes, that includes hair appointments. It's not like I have any style I need to maintain, so even a haircut every six months would do the job. I can do this!

Besides, who wouldn't want to take Batman to the dentist every six months? 

#5). Use more sign language with Damien. I started sign language with Kendan at about four months old and didn't stop. I was relentless. He was stringing several words together like a sentence, and adding the sign for "please" at the end of requests, before he ever spoke a real word. Kendan had about 20 signs in his repertoire at one point. It was so cool. He still uses a few signs occasionally; usually when his mouth is full and he wants "more" of something or to express that he's "all done" eating. And he has recalled many more signs as I've started communicating to Damien with sign language. But, it's not nearly as often as I did with Kendan. I guess I always assumed my second child would use sign language as well... forgetting all of the work I put into my first child's success. Time to brush up and bust it out. Watch out, Damien.

I'll have to learn the sign for "necklace". 

#4). Wake up earlier. I love being a Stay at Home Mom. My kids wake up at 8am... and so do I! It's glorious. But, it has to stop. Why? A lot of reasons. Ideally, I'd like to be showered and dressed with my bed made and coffee going by the time my kids wake up. I did this for a couple weeks when I was potty training Kendan to make sure I was prepared for the day and wouldn't need to leave his side. And the truth is, it was awesome! I felt ready, I was more productive, and running errands was way less of a task if I was already dressed. I also really enjoy the time in the house to myself, when it's quiet and everyone is still asleep. I can smell pumpkin coffee brewing, leisurely open the blinds to slowly wake up our home before the cries of my children do the job for me. Maybe turn on a morning show; it'll be the last time the TV is mine for the rest of the day. The possibilities are endless.

#3). Sleep more. I realize that this is in direct conflict with the previously listed resolution. But, I need more sleep. I am not fully functional on too few hours of sleep. Not only do the simplest tasks seem daunting when I'm tired but, I am not pleasant to be around. My fuse is short, my temper flares, and everyone suffers. I do not like who I am when exhausted. When I amm well-rested, not much bothers me. When I am lacking sleep, BREATHING makes my skin crawl. But, again, I really would like to wake up earlier. And, I'm a terrible napper. Which leaves only to go to bed earlier. This may be my last blog post since I usually only write them at ungodly hours (it's 1am right now). It's been nice having you as a reader but, this is probably the end.

Hopefully Kendan will remember this mom and not the cranky mom!

#2). Hang out with my husband. This is straight forward. I would like to go to dinner with my husband. Even if it is also with friends, that's ok. But, call a babysitter occasionally and just hang out with my husband, my friend. Even if I only do it three times this year it'll be more than we did last year.

And get more pictures of just me and my husband... or just pictures where you can see his face.

#1). Live presently. This is all encompassing for me. Live more presently... at all times. I have two amazing children and a husband who fill me up every day. I plead with myself to not forget amazing moment after amazing moment. But, I forget. It's human nature. And, that's ok. But, if I stop what I am doing and just be I will be so much better for it. My family will be so much better for it. Stop worrying about forgetting the moment lest I ruin it because all I can remember is "I didn't want to forget that... whatever it was". Don't reach for the camera when my children do something mind-blowingly adorable. Just enjoy it. Laugh at it. Hold them tight and tell them, for the millionth time, how much I love them through clenched teeth and tear-filled eyes. Sit and cuddle with Kendan through a whole show and stop thinking about all the stuff I could accomplish while he's entertained. Play. Not in between tasks in the kitchen. In the play room, full-on, even if only for ten minutes. Remember that each day really may be the last day I get to spend with my family. The last time I tell them, "good night". The last time I can make them smile, or feel good or happy or loved... or remember me positively. Stop taking life for granted. I think when I said this list was in no particular order I lied. Because, this one is #1. If I forget to do everything else on this list, fine. This is the one that counts. This is what will make 2013 matter.

Happy New Year to all our friends and family!

Cheers!

...

There is no title to this post. I don't even know what I would call it if I had to name it. I can barely form a coherent thought regarding the recent events in Connecticut. My heart is so heavy. My mind racing. My soul searching.

I complained too much today. About things so insignificant that I'm actually embarrassed. I got frustrated with a fellow driver on the road when she cut me off. I was short with my toddler. All for what? There are countless people who would rather be in my shoes tonight.

Too many moms cannot even stand up, stricken down in complete mourning, as I stand and wash our dinner dishes. Too many empty children's beds tonight as my sweet boys sleep soundly, safely in their rooms. Too many husbands, like mine, who work so hard to provide for and protect their families, feeling helpless today. Knowing they cannot protect their loved ones from everything. Too many people's holiday season will never be the same.

I do not pray often. But, I found myself praying today. Eyes closed, hands over my face, crying and begging God to watch over those children and their families. Probably because I do not know what else to do. But, what am I praying for? No amount of prayer on my part will bring these innocent people and children back. I suppose I am praying that you really are at peace when you pass. Praying that any pain or fear those sweet babies felt today immediately vanished. Praying, hard, that there really is an afterlife. Because the thought of those kindergarteners' lives being over.... just over.... makes me more afraid than anything else in this life. I cannot even imagine what their parents are feeling. It is absolutely unfathomable.

All of my thoughts and prayers to the children and staff of Sandy Hook Elementary.

Done.

I am often asked if we are done having kids. When we got engaged everyone wanted to know if we had set a date. Once we were married they had to know if we were having children. Once we had Kendan I thought maybe we were done being questioned... nope. When are you having another? Really, people? Now that we have Damien I thought, surely, all the questions have been asked. But, "are you done having kids?" seems to be at the forefront of a lot of people's minds. The real answer is, I don't know.

After we had Kendan I wasn't sure we should have another baby. He was amazing. He was adorable. I wanted to do nothing other than sit and rock him. But, there was, of course, endless crying and sleepless nights and first-time mom anxiety. Having your first child changes your life so completely, in the best ways and in many unforeseen inconvenient ways. In addition to the typical upheaval of normal life, Kendan was colicky and dealt with many allergy issues we were unaware of for months. And, just to make sure we had our hands full enough, Craig got moved for work only six weeks after Kendan was born. Needless to say, one kid was pretty much all we could handle for the foreseeable future. More children wasn't off the table for me but it wasn't a definite. Craig was done.

Then came Damien. Not planned, but not unplanned. He really came at the exact right time for our family. Again, amazing; again, adorable; again, endless rocking. Enter, crying and lack of sleep and anxiety. Thankfully, we were more aware of potential allergy issues for Damien and, as a result, ended up with a much happier newborn. However, we now had a toddler to help snap us out of the dreamy, night-owl, day-napping, snugly, calmness of bringing home a fresh baby. And, the life we had come to know as normal with our first "baby" was, once again, completely changed. What happened next? We got moved again. Why not? We're kind of like professionals by then.

Life has settled down; we are back to routine. Two kids and all! Can't even remember what it was like with only one baby. And countless diaper changes have more than wiped clear my memory from before kids. I have two happy, healthy children. I am through breastfeeding and almost out of the woods on formula at $23 a week *eye roll*. One is almost mobile and the other surprises me daily with how self-sufficient he's becoming, undressing himself before bath and putting himself on the potty. They both sleep 12 hours at night and even nap at the same time in the afternoon. I take them everywhere with me. Both of them. I still haven't bit the bullet on sending Kendan to a day program and have mastered the art of grocery shopping with two kids. Life is good. Some days are better than others; but, they are all manageable. But, we all wanna know... are we having a third?

I want to have another child when I think about being pregnant. I love being pregnant. You don't think about losing weight or being skinny, you just feel beautiful. You feel kicks, and hiccups, and a head, and feet. All of that adds up to someone who will be the most important thing in my life. I have healthy pregnancies. I don't take that for granted. It makes me want to do it again because I feel blessed and as if I owe it to those who are not as fortunate.

I do not want another kid when my toddler has had an accident in his pants, I have poop on my hands from wiping him off, and the whole time I am rinsing out his underwear my infant is screaming relentlessly from the next room.

I need another child as Damien grows out of Kendan's old clothes and I pack them away. This cannot be the last I'll see of my favorite 3 month outfit with the frog on the butt, can it? My heart sinks. Memories of both Kendan and Damien in the same pajamas, the same shoes, the same onsies, flood me. As Damien moves into Kendan's old 12 month clothing I think, "didn't Kendan just wear these?" And I realize that he is growing entirely too fast, no longer a baby, and Damien is right behind him. That's it, I need another one.

I don't want more children when I think about our next move. Finding another house, within our price range, with one MORE bedroom sounds impossible. But, physically making the move, packing and unpacking, with three kids is more than daunting. It was difficult with two kids; hell, it was hard with just one! No, two kids is plenty, thank you.

How could I not want another baby when I see my boys playing and laughing together? Adding a third would be a lot more work, yes; but, it would be exponentially more fun. It would be so amazing to see the dynamic the three would have together. Another boy? Oh, I'd be in heaven! Adding a girl to my two boys.... I'd be in heaven. That's such a cop out. But, truly, I think either would be the exact sibling we'd want.

I am sure I don't need more kids when both of mine are sick....at the same time. It's heartbreaking, it's exhausting, it's days on end of sitting on the couch with them (ok, that part's not so bad). They can't sleep well, they don't eat well, and I clean up a lot of messes *details are being purposely left out for you, the reader*. Worse? When I'm also sick. I cannot imagine having the kids I already have when I'm ill, please don't add another.

One thing is certain.... I am uncertain. I am undecided. I waiver. I am happy with my sweet, lovable boys. They are smart, funny, mischievous, reasonably ornery, healthy, crazy, happy, and they're all mine. I have my hands full, my calendar full, and my heart full. But, the thought of being done with newborns breaks me. Their smell, their sleepy smiles make my insides brim over with warmth. The thought of who they'll become, will they be like their older sibling(s)? Just knowing that this mini miracle is because of you and your family. It's overwhelming. And I cannot be done with it.

Scratch that thought... Kendan just pooped his pants.