New Year's Reflection

As a new year begins, many people focus on establishing new habits and personal goals. At thirty years of age, I now know myself well enough to avoid making New Year’s resolutions that would undoubtedly result in failure. I know that it will only take a few weeks for me to cave into a craving for a Friendly’s Reeses Pieces sundae (5-scoop of course. A 3-scoop simply isn’t enough to satisfy this gal’s sweet-tooth.). I know that there will be mornings in which a few extra hours of sleep will COMPLETELY override the urge to squeeze in workout at the gym. I know that I will always put the needs of others’—namely my children’s— before my own and therefore won’t be able to finish a novel in a reasonable amount of time. I know that after a good seven-day stretch, I will eventually allow the clutter to creep its’ way back onto my kitchen counters, I will succumb to the allure of gossip shared via social networking, and my intentions to live with direct purpose and constant awareness will be cast aside as soon as a chaotic schedule kicks in (or, even worse, a trashy reality TV show airs). I know that I am human.

My New Year’s Eve was spent in relative solitude. (My little guys were home with me while Dan was at work, but they are not what I would describe as “hot dates”.) After I had put both of them to bed, I had a moment of panic thinking, “Wait! I only have a couple of hours to figure out what I am going to change in the New Year.” And then I thought, “Why worry about the stuff that I could change—but most likely won’t—when I can focus on the things that I absolutely wouldn’t change about my life?” As a result of that thought, instead of creating a New Year’s resolution, I created a New Year’s reflection. Let me tell you: This is a far more enlightening and rewarding practice.

I would not change my family. These are the people who give me a reason to wake up each morning. These are the people who provide me love and support, foster my old dreams, and help me make new ones. These are the people who deserve more than being grouped into a general category. They deserve individual explanations as to what they add to my life and why I wouldn’t change who they are.

I would not change my husband. This is a man who loves me even when I feel unlovable. He is the man who tells me that I am beautiful each and every day even when I have worn my pajamas for 24-hours straight or reek of baby puke. He compliments my charred dinners and commends me for my partially-completed efforts of organizing our home. He regularly acknowledges how hard my job is as a stay-at-home-mom and expresses how grateful he is that I chose to take this path. He makes me feel valuable. He is one of the most hardworking individuals that I have ever met. He is loyal to all those close to him and he is always willing to assist a friend—or even a friend of a friend—in need. He is smart and witty and passionate about politics, family, and (sigh) his fantasy sports leagues. He is supportive of all my endeavors, even when he knows that I may abandon them in the not-so-distant-future. He is my confidant, my partner, and my rock. But most of all, he is my best friend.

I would not change Caiden. This year has been a somewhat challenging one with him only because he changed from being a young toddler into a small child, developing a sense of

independence and a personality all his own. Granted, this was our goal as parents, but as it happened—and, oh, did it seem to happen so quickly-- some days I found myself uttering that age-old cliche of “He’ll be lucky if he makes it to his 3^rd birthday…” Yes, he has tested my patience with his incessant declarations of “MINE!”, worried me with his consumption of bizarre items such as crayons and mud, fingerpainted my bedroom with lotion, made multiple attempts to drink from the toilet bowl like a dog, and will often drop to his knees in tears and refuse to move in the middle of public places, parking lots, or—well, just about anywhere—if he doesn’t want to leave; but even at the end of his WORST days, I could smother him with hugs & kisses. I cherish each morning when he comes thumping down the stairwell, calling for me (never Daddy), and proceeds to come into my bedroom, tossing his beloved belongings onto my bed with the SAME dialogue each dawn: “Blankie (toss). Puppy (toss). Bunny (toss). Annnnnnd MEEEEEEEE! (crawls into bed).” I am incredibly proud of how polite he is, even when he is being defiant. (“Caiden, eat you supper.” “No thank you, Mama.”) I am enamored by his giant blue eyes framed by the longest eyelashes that I have ever seen. He makes my heart swell up each time he kisses his baby brother and his fits of laughter, I swear, could facilitate world peace. He is incredibly bright, loves puzzles and music and all things “boy” (cars, trains, blocks, dinosaurs, dirt), and has morphed me from a lady who longed for a little girl to a woman who can’t picture her life without little boys.

I would not change Ryan. It’s hard to believe that this little guy has already been around for a quarter of a year, but over the course of the past 3 months he has brought so much love, joy, and light into our world. It wasn’t that long ago that I said, “Having a newborn is much like the pains of labor. If a woman remembered what it was like, she would never have another child.”

We are just turning the corner of round-the-clock feedings and sleepless nights. I can finally determine the difference between an “I’m hungry cry” from an “I’m bored, gimme my binky cry”. Now that I am more rested and more confident in being a “mother of two”, I can now focus on how much fun it is to have an infant around again. Most recently, he has discovered his own voice. Each night, once Caiden is in bed, Ryan and I get some overdue daily alone time. It often consists of just gazing into each other’s eyes, but as of late he sits there and coos loudly and proudly. He loves it when I sing to him and, already, his favorite is “You Are My Sunshine”. (I know this because he actually tries to sing with me. If I weren’t so embarrassed about my own voice, I would post the video footage of this precious scene.) He is truly the happiest baby that I have ever met and I sometimes wonder what I did to deserve this blessing. His smile never fails to melt me, even when it is some obscene hour and all I want to do is get back to bed. Each day he becomes stronger and more aware of the world around him. As a result, his tiny personality is emerging. I love how he can be soothed by my voice and I love how the mere sight of his own reflection in the mirror can entertain him for hours. I often stare at him and wonder where those little feet will take him, what good those tiny hands will do in the world. I also ponder what gifts he will possess. Whatever they may be, what I do not have to question is what a gift he is to me.

I would not change my home. Yes, despite its imperfections, I love our house. Dan and I enjoy looking at real estate that is for sale, sometimes crunching numbers to see if we could “upgrade”, but fact of the matter is my house is my home and I really have no intentions of moving anytime soon. It needs a new roof and new siding. The hardwoods could use some buffing and we could definitely benefit from better windows. I can’t stand the sight of my kitchen, but a few coats of paint would certainly make it more aesthetically-appealing. And don’t even get me started on the state of affairs in our backyard (which needs a drainage system installed so it can be used again and not qualify as local swampland…). But this is the place that I purchased with Dan, knowing that once we signed that dotted line we were in it for the “long haul” together. This is the place where my babies will have both taken their first steps and spent their first Christmases. This is the place where extended family and friends gather, sharing laughter and tears. It may not be worthy of a feature in Better Homes and Gardens, but each flaw to the naked eye might also contain a memory. The hole in the laminate floor of the kitchen is from when Mollie-Dog tried to chew her way to China while we were at work one day and the dents in the doorjams are from Caiden “blasting off” on his Radio Flyer Retro Rocket. My home offers me solace and peace even among the chaos of having two small children under the age of 3. It is a structure full of dreams and love and big plans for the future. And even has enough room for another little boy down the road if we decide to expand. But let’s tackle the backyard first.

The year 2012 will, without a doubt, bring good things. I’m no fortune teller, but I am also not a pessimist. In the days and months to come, I may not have an actual habit to practice or goal to attain, resolving to change and make things better, but I will certainly be sure to express gratitude for the people and things around me that enrich my life. It’s something that I already do daily whether in word, prayer, or action. And that is something that I will never change.