He’s big. And smiley. And cuddly. And really stinkin’ cute. And so gosh darn sweet. And he has taught me that when it comes to kids, love really is limitless. Those are just a few things about my sweet baby boy who, in my blogging break, I have not yet had the chance to officially introduce.

So, without further ado, meet Smiles:

At nine-and-a-half months already, there’s a lot that I wish I had blogged about with him. Like his 48-hour labor. Or his first drooly grin. Or how he inch-worm/ army-crawled for so long that I assumed he would never crawl in the traditional sense. And then within a week or two he not only started crawling, he began speed crawling and pulling up and trying to climb up on things. And now he’s standing on his own for up to 30-seconds at a time and will take a few steps behind a stand and walk toy! Or how he started saying, “Mama,” early and now all he ever says is, “Dada.” Or how he cut his first tooth during our first family camping trip in August and we didn’t even know until we got home and he smiled and there was this tooth there. And how now he has five teeth and is working on his sixth.

But, I’ve been so busy actually living life and being a mom that I haven’t had much of a chance to write about it.

So here were are nine months into life and not a single blog post about it. Some might say that’s what happens with second children. But that’s not true. It’s just that I happen to be on the slow end of the learning curve when it comes to adjusting to life with two kids. I mean, I’m still trying to find a good time to shower daily (as I write this it’s going on 48-hours since my last shower – but don’t worry, as soon as I finish the draft I’ll jump in since The Hubs is home and I have the luxury of a shower at any point during this day). Showers and stink aside, Smiles is a very special little boy and I’m just sorry I haven’t had an opportunity to share him with you via this blog sooner.

Obviously, I can’t cover the first nine months of a person’s life in a single blog post, but to help you get to know this wonderful little (big) man, here are a few things about him.

• He’s big. Have I mentioned that already? Oh. Well, it’s true. At 9+ lbs and 21 ½ inches at birth, he started out that way and hasn’t looked back. At nine months, he weighs 24 ½ lbs, is 29 ¾ inches long and wears 18-month and even 24-month clothes. I count toting him around the house and up and down our stairs as my daily exercise. Honestly, my arms haven’t been in better shape. Power to the MARMS (that’s my word for mom-arms)!

• He has this smile that just…awww! It’s just is so big and cute and smiley that you just can’t help but smile back, even at 3 a.m. when all you want to do is sleep. And it just looks like it was meant to be on his face the way it melts into his chubby cheeks. It’s just perfect. And he loves. To. Smile. All the time. That’s why it’s his name on this blog. Unless he’s hungry or tired or mad. Then he makes a face like this

 and starts rubbing and pulling his ear and you have T-30 seconds before he’s into full and complete cry mode and then it’s all about mama getting to him ASAP or the whole neighborhood hears it.

• He loves to be held. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that he was always so big that it’s just a lot harder for people to hold him and do anything else, but this boy almost can’t get enough lap/cuddle time. It’s awesome! The only time he doesn’t want to be held is if he’s in explore mode, and then you better be ready to do lots of running and lifting because he gravitates towards whatever he’s not supposed to have.

• He adores his big sister. Wherever she is, whatever she’s doing, he wants to be a part of it too, even if she’s not such a willing participant. The moment she acknowledges him, or talks to him or pats his back or, as is more often the case lately, screams at him to get away, he just lights up when she’s around. And by the way, when she is yelling at him to go away, he just cracks up and thinks it’s hilarious to get a little closer. The little brother torture thing must be an instinct they’re born with.

• He doesn’t sleep through the night. I know, at nine months they’re supposed to sleep at least five hours at a stretch – or so I’m told – but Smiles seems to think he should only sleep while being cradled in your arms. And he likes to snack at night. So we’re still up every 3 or 4 hours. All. Night. Long. You’d think with so much night time activity, he would at least be a good napper, but he’s what you might call a power napper. 20 minutes and he’s ready to go. If only I could keep up.

• He has brought so much joy and love to our family. At this time last year I was honestly worried about whether or not I’d truly be able to love another person as much as I loved The Munchkin. I was afraid that the changes that come with having a newborn would be difficult to handle with a toddler and worried that The Hubs or I would resent it. But the moment I held him in my arms I knew all of that was just the manic worry of a pregnant lady. I was instantly in love and learned that it really is true when your parents tell you they love their kids equally. More than that, I learned that there is really no limit to the human capacity to love. I never cease to be astonished by how much I love my kids. And I have Smiles to thank for that.

So now you know a little bit about this boy we call, Smiles. It has been a whirlwind first nine months, but I am so looking forward to sharing our adventures over the next nine months and beyond.

Dear 2012:

Welcome, and make yourself comfortable! I’m glad you’re here and I’m looking forward to seeing what you have in store, but now that we’ve had a few days to get to know each other, I thought we’d lay out a few ground rules for the remainder of the year.

First, please, PLEASE, don’t go by too quickly. As the mother of two small children who seem to be growing at warp speed, I’m begging you. Don’t rush by and all the sudden I have two, like, KID kids. I like having a baby and a toddler (or…a toddler and a preschooler, as will be the case during this coming year and just typing those words makes me a bit wishy-washy). I’m not ready to have tweens and teens and adolescents and then all of the sudden grown kids with kids of their own. Don’t make me a grandma before I’m ready! Cool your jets.  Take the slow route and let’s enjoy every moment of this time together.

Unless you suck. In which case, bring on 2013.

Second, why not be the no stress and less worry year that everyone will love? Seriously, if you want to go down in history as one of the best years ever, do that. Be the year that I embrace my messy house and stop worrying about the dishes and the laundry and the dirt and the dust. I’m not asking you to be the year that I stop taking care of those things (I don’t want to wind up on Hoarders). Just be the year that I stop stressing about them and realize that eventually they’ll get done when they get done.

And while we’re on the subject of less worry, how about being the year of good health. I don’t think I need to elaborate here – healthy people are happy people. Enough said.

Speaking of health and aging, we both know that you represent a rather significant year for me in terms of age. Be the year I embrace it. Make me excited about the big 3-0 because if you think about it, it really is a decade to embrace. I mean, your 20s are really just an extension of your adolescence since you spend the majority of them figuring out your adult self and going through lots of major changes (i.e. college graduation, getting a real job, possibly marriage and kids). Your 30s are the decade to firmly embrace the YOU you’ve become. Yeah…that’s it!

But, that being said, maybe you could take it easy in the physical aging department. Notice I’m not asking for a toned body with nice curves and a flat tummy with abs. Oh, no. I don’t even want that anymore. I’m actually happy with my weight and my body. I mean, the nice curves and flat tummy would be nice but my scantily-clad beach frolicking days are behind me. Honestly, I don’t really have much time to spend at the beach these days and if I do make it there I’m not frolicking because taking two small children to the beach requires anything but frolicking. You have to worry about someone wandering into the water, the evil sun and someone is always trying to eat sand. It’s too much. I’m not frolicking when I’m at the beach and I couldn’t care less what I’m wearing there. I just bought a pair of skinny jeans in a size I like and I’m happy with that in terms of body. But maybe you could take it easy on the grey hairs? I’ve got four, FOUR, that laugh in my face and remind me I’m old every time I look in the mirror. And those are just the ones I can see. Who knows what’s lurking around the back of my head. I think that’s enough for now, don’t you?

And 2012, please, for the sake of all that is good, PLEASE be the year of sleep. Please be the year that we all get acquainted (or reacquainted) with a full eight hours of blissful, beautiful, peaceful, uninterrupted sleep. I honestly don’t even know when I had that last – probably not since 2008 when I got pregnant with The Munchkin. Yeah, I’d say we’re due.

Finally, I’m looking forward to embracing the challenges and changes that you will bring, whatever they may be. I’m ready for them, even if they should happen to defy any of my above requests. But there is one thing that I will not budge on: You WILL be the year that I live in the moment with my kids and my family. I’m not going to cling to the past (too much) or worry (too much) about the future but just embrace the right here and right now. Because this is the only time I will have 2 ½-year-old and a 9-month-old. This is the only time The Hubs and I will celebrate 10 years as a couple and five years of marriage. This is the only time I will get to be a SAHM to such an amazing family. And that’s a truth that won’t change no matter what else does.

So, welcome 2012! And Happy New Year (You?)!

Dear Mom,

In honor of Mother’s Day, I wanted to write about a stand-out MOMent I remember having with you. Like most kids, I never really understood or appreciated all the things you’ve done for me. I don’t think I’ve ever told you about all of the times when you really made a difference in my life, and I certainly don’t think I’ve ever recounted a particular moment and thanked you for being there for me. But when I tried to choose something specific, I couldn’t.  I couldn’t think of an exact memory that stands out because you’ve always been there for me. No matter what. Even when I didn’t want you to be.

So, thank you.

Thank you for enduring hours upon hours of drug-free labor to have me nearly two weeks late. As someone who has recently gone through childbirth, even going two days before my due date was agony – and I didn’t have to put up with the unsightly maternity clothes you were forced to wear or being in my third trimester during the hottest part of the year…

Thank you for being my kindergarten teacher and the best teacher I’ve ever had. In my life. Ever…

Thank you for driving me to school every year on the first day of school and walking me to my class, even in sixth grade as I terrifyingly started junior high. And thank you for the many drives you would make to that building after an exhausting day of work to pick up a book I would need for a homework assignment or sometimes my entire backpack…

On that note, thank you thank you for putting up with such a scatterbrained and easily distracted kid. As my own daughter can sometimes take up to fifteen minutes to climb half a flight of stairs because she becomes sidetracked by lint on the steps or making her toys slide down the railings, I’m gaining more and more of an appreciation for the patience you had with me (and believe me, at the time I didn’t think you had much – I’m now learning I was sorely mistaken)…

Thank you for crying all those times throughout my childhood and beyond when I would roll my eyes and tell you not to. Like my senior year on senior night during the half-time show of the football game when you proudly walked with me in my full band nerdom, tears welling up in your eyes. Or whenever you’d watch some sappy movie. Now I understand. Now that I have two babies of my own, Rice Krispie commercials can choke me up. And the sight of my handsome baby boy smiling at me just melts my heart. Now I understand…

Thank you for teaching me how to bake cookies and letting me eat the dough…

Thank you for the occasional Parlour treat when we’d have dessert before dinner…

Thank you for instilling in me the proper love and appreciation that chocolate deserves, and always sharing yours with me (or stealing mine from my Halloween and Easter candy)…

Thank you for goodnights that would last for hours and always listening and always saying, “I love you,”…

Thank you for always being the one to make me feel better when I am hurt, whether it was from a fall in the driveway, a fight with a friend or even being dumped. Even when I didn’t want to tell you about it…

Thank you for letting me grow up and graduate and go to college and get married and start a family of my own. Even when you didn’t want to let me go…

Thank you for always supporting my every decision…

Thank you for showing me what a strong, beautiful, amazing mom and woman is and for giving me someone I can aspire to be like…

When I was younger I used to say that I wasn’t going to do things like my mom. But now that I am one, I continue to find myself trying to be more like you.

Thank you for being you – my most perfect mom.

“What’s up, Mommy?” she asked me as I scooted my chair closer to hers to eat lunch.

I laughed and then gave her some answer about getting ready to have lunch with the cutest kid ever.

And then I thought about it some more.

What’s up?

What’s up, Mommy?

The question made me laugh because it sounded so, well, grown up coming from her toddler mouth.

How did we move so quickly from the simple act of identifying me as “Mama” to using sentences and asking me, “What’s up?”

And my response? Lunch with a kid. A KID?

No, not yet. My brain pleaded. She’s not even two yet. She’s still a baby. Not a kid. Just a baby. I’m not ready for her to grow up so fast.

And then my unborn baby jabbed a good kick into my ribcage as if to say, “Hello! I’m the baby. Have you forgotten I’ll be taking over your house within the next 10-ish weeks?”

After adjusting my position in an attempt to remove said little opinionated foot from my ribs, I looked back at The Munchkin, now munching a piece of “white broccoli” and drinking water from a regular cup, smiling at me as a little bit dribbled down her chin. I thought about the progress we’ve been making with potty training and helping her learn to use the stairs. I thought about how she’s starting to learn her letters and numbers and songs and already immersing herself into her own pretend world. I thought about the baby doll and kitchen set and little table and chair and all the “big girl” toys she got for Christmas. And I couldn’t help but wonder if, in spite of my desire to somehow stop time and linger a little longer in her baby-hood, some small part of me is willing her to grow up faster than either of us is ready because soon there will be another baby in our house.

Soon, I’m going to need her to be trusted with the stairs because I’ll be carrying another, much more helpless being up and down them. I’m going to want her to be potty trained so that we can save some money on diapers. I’m going to rely on her to entertain herself in her little pretend world sometimes because someone else is going to need me 24/7. And I pray that I’m a good enough mom to be there for both of them as they need me.

And yet, I’m reveling in it all at the same time. Each new phrase uttered, every new thing learned, I beam with joy at watching The Munchkin discover and become more and more a part of the world around her. I love watching her play with her little dollhouse people and introduce herself to her stuffed animals. I’m constantly amazed at what she picks up, and how quickly it happens too. I love listening to her sing her ABCs and “Twinkle, Twinkle.” And the fact that, while they may be require a bit of translation, I can have actual conversations with my little girl, just blows me away. Each gives me an even better glimpse at what’s going on in that brain of hers and it’s honestly amazing.

I look forward to doing it all again with this new one. I love feeling this little person squirm and wiggle inside of me. I can’t wait to learn what kind of person he or she is. I even love (though it is getting burdensome at times) watching my belly grow and knowing that soon we’ll get to meet this person. And I already am in love.

So, it’s an interesting conflict really. But I have the sense that this internal debate between wanting to slow down time and the rate at which The Munchkin grows, and the joy and anticipation of watching it happen is not going to go away. And I’m sure I’ll feel it just as much (maybe even more) with this new baby too.

I suppose it’s just another one of those things about parenthood that I should just get used to dealing with but probably never really will. How do you ever get used to the growing independence of your child? I guess that’s why my mom still says to me, “You’re still my baby.”

After lunch was over, The Munchkin and I went upstairs and cuddled together in the rocking chair before nap, reading a book about big sisters. Like many times before, I pointed to my belly and asked her what was in there and she answered correctly. Then she smiled and patted my belly and gave it a kiss. “Aww, I wove you, Baby,” she said.

I smiled and kissed the top of her forehead. My thoughts exactly, I thought to myself, patting them both. My thoughts exactly.

It’s Sunday evening. After a day of apple picking and fun at the apple orchard, we are all gathered at my mother-in-law’s house to celebrate my birthday a week early (which I keep forgetting). Our delicious Thanksgiving-style dinner has digested enough that most of us now have room for the apple and peach pies that are being served as my birthday dessert.

I have just survived the Birthday song (being the center of attention is not really my thing) and blown out my candle. As always, this accomplishment is followed by a round of applause – one of The Munchkin’s favorite things.

She loves to clap and cheer, and having observed all of this, the little leader in her decides that it must continue. She isn’t certain of the reason for the clapping, but she is determined to have it go on.

Standing in the center of the room, surrounded by everyone, she lifts her arms in celebration and shouts, “Yaaaay,” her little hands clapping away in front of her.

We all respond with a resounding clap and cheer.

Her smile widens and she does it again.

“Yaaaaay,” she shouts.

“Hooray,” we all reply and clap back.

She is looking around the room at everyone, pleased that she has the attention of every person in the house.

She cheers once again. And once again, we all cheer and clap back.

This time, she pauses. She knows she has all of us captivated and wants to keep her hold on everyone. I watch her little face as she processes what is happening. She is concentrating. Deciding. She has our attention. Now what can she do to keep it going? My little entertainer.

Then, like a story teller or singer leading a crowd in some sort of response activity, she leans forward, grinning wide at her audience and says, “Hi!”

Laughter escapes from her audience, and we all respond appropriately with a “hi,” or our own.

She looks at her daddy. She looks at me. Her smile grows even bigger. Success! She is eating up every second of this. We all are.

She throws her hands up and cheers again. After we follow her cheer with our own she proceeds with another, “Hi!”

This continues for a little while, everyone in the house following the lead of this 18-month-old crowd pleaser.

The Hubs and I aren’t certain exactly where this boldness comes from. We are both more reserved and tend to prefer not to be in the spotlight. But wherever it came from, one thing is certain: The Munchkin knows how to work a room.

What I’m not sure she grasps yet is just how special it is to everyone she entertains. It’s more than just a cute toddler showing off. It’s contagious happiness. We all delighted in her moment. Whatever stresses may have been in the back of our minds while she was cheering and greeting us disappeared. And the memory of it was a gift we all have to treasure long after the clapping ended that evening.

My little entertainer – sharer of smiles.

I realized that since I’m no longer in danger of jeopardizing my job with my blog, I could probably show you what I look like.

Clearly, I’m no photographer, but here is a recent shot of how I now look as a SAHM:

And yep, that’s a baby bump! A 15-and-a-half week bump to be exact. Our next little munchkin will be making his or her debut sometime around  March 19^th – we can’t wait!!

*Editor’s Note: Please ignore the tired mommy face, lack of makeup and un-styled hair. This was the best I could do given that I’m still trying to work out time in the day to put myself together now that I’m a SAHM. Also, pay no attention to the unsightly 1980s bathroom décor that will one day be improved.

This post is proudly linked to Finer Things Friday over at Amy’s Finer Things. Head on over there to to see all the other things people are appreciating this week!

I didn’t feel it when I pulled my car out of the parking lot on my final day at work like I thought I would, though I was happy to finally be headed home. And even when I was greeted by The Hubs and The Munchkin that evening it still didn’t hit me (though it was a very happy reunion).

But when I woke in the wee hours of the morning on Tuesday, my head swirling with thoughts about a client event that had occurred over the weekend, I suddenly realized that it was no longer my concern. My primary responsibility now is my family – exactly what I felt it should be. And with that understanding, it suddenly began to sink in.

I felt the knots that had been living in the pit of my stomach for the past two years start to melt away. I easily slipped back into sleep for a few more hours until The Munchkin decided our day should begin.

The day was long and tiring and absolutely wonderful.

We ran errands and played outside. Practiced potty time and read books. We sang songs and had a blast getting messy with a fun finger painting project for Grandparents Day. We had just bought the paint that morning, never having had much of an opportunity to do many craft projects together before.

I watched with glee as The Munchkin dipped and swirled and amused herself with the colors and textures she was experiencing. The Grandparents Day project turned out perfectly imperfect. But we were having too much fun to stop there. By the time we were really done, our entire kitchen table was filled with blue-, orange-, green- and purple-swirled pieces of artwork and handprints.

All throughout the day, and especially during this project, I was fully aware that I would be missing all of this if I had been working that day. And it was bittersweet to realize that this is what I had been missing all that time.

While The Munchkin napped, I actually got laundry done and cleaned our refrigerator. I had dinner cooking when The Hubs got home from work. And for once on a weekday, I actually enjoyed the cooking process.

After The Munchkin went to bed, exhausted as I was, I even found the energy to clean up after our day of fun and prepare our home for another day together.

By the time my day was over, I could barely keep my eyes open. But tired as I was, I didn’t feel worn out. In fact, strange as it may sound, I felt refreshed. Accomplished. The way you feel after a really great workout. And I couldn’t wait for the next day to begin.

I still have a lot to learn about this whole stay-at-home-mom thing, for instance, when to actually find time to shower and get myself dressed and ready for the day. But I’m so looking forward to figuring it all out as we go.

And I’m so incredibly thankful to have the chance to learn it.

No more saying, “Someday…” or “I wish…” or even “When…” I can now proudly say I am a stay-at-home-mom. And you know what? I really like the sound of that!

This post is linked to Thank You Journal over at Alli-n-Son. Head on over there to see what else people are appreciating this week.

There is so much I want to share with you. It feels like it has been ages since my last post, and in many ways, it has. Things have changed since then. And there has been so much going on, some of it wonderful, and some of it difficult. I feel like I’ve been trapped in a cyclone for the past month or two. Everything seemed like it was happening so fast and spinning around me that it’s almost a blur.

But something was keeping me from being able to write.

One of the events in my life that has kept me from posting recently was the sudden death of my uncle at the end of July. It was very much unexpected and I missed what would turn out to be my last opportunity to see him the week before he died. I wanted to share it with you because it serves as a reminder to me every day that no one is guaranteed a tomorrow. You can’t put off phone calls and I-love-yous and the chance to reach out to someone you care about because you never know when you will no longer have the opportunity.

But every time I sat down to write about it, I came up blank. There are so many emotions wrapped up in all of it. And so many things I’m struggling on my own to find out that maybe it’s too personal for me to share right now. Too personal for me to even write because it forces me to examine myself a little too closely right now. I’ve learned that I don’t grieve like the typical person. I push it off. Push it away. Busy myself with other things until I’m ready to face it – usually in small stages. And I’m not there yet.

So, perhaps a post will come about that someday. But not today.

What I do want to focus on with you now is the new chapter in my life that is starting. One that I’m so excited about and one that I can’t wait to share with you.

Stay tuned because tomorrow I’m going to fill you in on my first official day as a stay-at-home-mom. And let me just tell you that I’m exhausted and completely happy – no happy isn’t even the right word – it’s more like bliss.

More to come…

Thanks for sticking with me through this pause.  I’m ready to push play again!

Well, I did it!

I finally said those two words I’ve been dreaming of saying since before The Munchkin was born, “I quit!”

Actually, I took the long-winded yet more professional approach and said, “I’m tendering my resignation,” but the outcome is the same.

August 31 will be my last day as a mom who works outside of the home – at least for a long time anyway.

My last morning rushing around trying to get everything ready. My last day spent wondering how The Munchkin is doing when I’m supposed to be working. My last day scrambling to get everything completed so that I can leave close to on time and pick up The Munchkin so that we can have some semblance of a quality afternoon routine together before she’s asleep in her bed. My last day feeling like no matter what I do or how hard I try, I’m going to let someone down.

I feel so incredibly relieved. I don’t have to pretend anymore. No more hiding my plans for the future. No more pretending I’m doing something I’m passionate about. No more faking.

And finally, the opportunity to strengthen the bond I share with The Munchkin again – a bond I’m sad to admit felt like it weakened after I returned to work. Finally, I get to be the one deciding on the daily routine (though I’m sure The Munchkin may just have a little to do with that). I get to do those projects I always say I’m going to work on with her. We can work on potty training together, read stories and practice counting. We can both step out of our comfort zones and get to know new people in this new avenue of life together – play groups and library activities and mommy-and-me classes. We can both grow together.

And finally, The Hubs can have a moment to relax once in awhile. He can enjoy the weekend without trying to work with me to cram every household chore into our too-valuable weekend time. He can come home to a cooked meal every once in a while. He can have some much-needed balance in his life.

We all will.

I know that it sounds idealistic, but trust me when I say I know our lives will not suddenly be perfect simply because I’m home. But I’m confident that there will be a dramatic improvement. A balance that just isn’t there now. I’m even more confident that this is exactly what our little family needs.

And while I’ll perhaps be a bit bittersweet the last time I pull out of the parking lot at work, full of the anxiety that comes with leaving the familiar and entering the unknown; I know that as soon as I walk through the door to our house on August 31 – as soon as I’m home – I’ll be exactly where I belong.

Let the countdown begin…

Another day of nothingness? Check!

Those are literally the words that just ran through my head as I sit at my desk willing the time to go by faster than it is.

Why is it only Wednesday? It feels like it should be Thursday. Or better, Friday. Because if it were Friday, I would be at home with my little girl right now doing dishes or something productive while she naps. Something that doesn’t feel fake.

I sit here, at this lonely desk, listening to my boss and her husband fight over a family matter that has made its way into the office. While my other boss tries to squirm out of a badgering by my boss. And I think, Maybe I can fake sick…

But I can’t.

Because I called-in sick yesterday when I was only sort-of sick and probably could have made it through the day staring blankly at my desk just fine, but didn’t. And I hate lying. And I’m really a horrible liar. And normally a terrible faker. But that’s all I feel in this place. Fake.

Fake concern for the tasks I know I should be completing but can’t find the motivation to do. Fake interest in the goings-on of the clients. Fake enthusiasm for a project I don’t think will succeed but don’t have the energy to argue about. Fake passion for something that used to be important to me but no longer is. Fake. Fake. Fake.

*Sigh*

This too shall pass. And I know when. I just hope I can stomach the falseness until then.

And I hope I don’t lose myself in the process.