  This is the blog I've been avoiding for two days. My daughter turned one this past Saturday, and it was quite the bittersweet event for me. She arose cheerily as usual at about 8:30 a.m., and all day long as I looked at her, I struggled to burn into my memory the way she looked and the little things she did. With Tyler, I was naive about the time that passed as he was a baby. There are pictures all over the place of him when he was one, but I swear I barely remember it. Unless some sort of divine intervention occurs, Mackenzie will always be the baby - what are the statistics again on women who get pregnant AFTER having their tubes tied? Don't misunderstand, I don't really want or need and certainly can't afford another baby, but the passing of "the baby's" first birthday sure brought the biological clock feelings up again.
Tick, tock. Not only that, her birthday seemed to force me to really examine the blessings in my life and count them one by one. There are so many things that I love about my family that I never really verbally recognize. We spend so much time going through the motions of everyday life- the changing of diapers and taking out of trash, the making of beds and CONSTANTLY doing of laundry.
(Ugh don't get me started. ) This weekend I really thanked God for all the little things - the way my daughter is always in a good mood in the morning, and the way the morning sun shines through her window and she smiles and giggles when I come in and pick her up. Better then waking up to a Starbucks attached to my house every day. For my son, who never just asks why. It's always a thoughtful question to ponder, like "Tyler, look at the pretty full moon! ", and he says "Yeah, mommy, is it in Albuquerque or Georgia? " and I have to enter into a deep discussion about satellites and space. But it's never just "why? " and I love that about him. For my daughter, who goes absolutely nuts for M&M's. And if you try to eat them in front of her without sharing, she turns into a wild wailing beast. For my son, who drew a picture of a treehouse that every adult that passes by can quickly mistake for male anatomy. He delights in the giggles and the comments that his "tree house" gets, and he thinks it is a darn good drawing of one.
For my husband, who rocks and changes and sleeps with the kids, and even occasionally does the dishes without being nagged or bribed into it. For his twin sister, who has become my sister over the years, the one thing my parents never gave me. And for those parents of mine, who love us all and spoil their grandkids - for the grandpa that Mackenzie reaches for when he comes home, to dance with and then roll around on the floor, "wrestling" with Big Brother. For the grandma that teaches letters and numbers and helps me clean my house when life is too hectic. For the grandpa that inpires Tyler to ride a motorcycle and to clean and polish his Lil' Tykes ATV and to ALWAYS wear his helmet.
There are so many more, and the funny thing aout counting blessings is that you can't ever find a good place to stop. All weekend long I had the Alabama song "Never Be One Again" in my mind, and as I counted my blessings, I also thought of the future. I thought of how odd it is to be excited about watching your kids grow, wondering what kind of teenager they will be, who it is they'll fall in love with, what talent they will discover God has given them, and then in the same breath wish that they will NEVER be teenagers, they will NOT be allowed to date and how I'd do anything to keep them babies for just a moment longer.
I know am a little biased, but my kids are beautiful. They are both guaranteed to be the center of much attention from the oppposite sex, and part of me can't wait to see how they grow through relationships. And the only thing I can do is pray constantly that they make good choices. There's another song I thought of this weekend, called urlLink "The Winner by Coolio (its on the Space Jam soundtrack).
It presents many profound motivational thoughts in a rap context, but the line that sticks with me is "It all starts at home, once they're grown they gone and once they're on their own you got to leave them alone..." I guess I have a few years before I have to leave them alone. But I realize that day will come, and I know that no matter how many pictures we have, the memories of first birthdays and baby looks will fade as time takes its toll. And when someone out there figures out how to slow down or turn back the clock, just pass that info on to me. 
