It’s Mother’s Day. Jake and I are watching Tarzan while Annie sleeps and Ike is out picking up lunch. Jake has a slight fever, so I’m trying to get him to rest. But actually, I’d want him here on the couch, lazy with me, even if he had no fever at all. It’s Mother’s Day, and I like to be lazy with my kids.

Kids. Two of them. This is my first Mother’s Day with two children. Every year since Jake was born, I’ve written something, usually in my journal, about what it’s been like for the past year. The first year I wrote a lot about sleep deprivation. Last year I wrote about how our lives would change with a second child.

I had no idea what I was talking about last year.

One of my biggest worries when I was pregnant with Annie was the fear that I wouldn’t love a second child as much as my first. We all know Jake has me wrapped around his little finger (actually, it’s my ear that’s generally wrapped around his finger), and I couldn’t have imagined that another small child could affect me the same way. Ike tried to reassure me that I would love the baby just as much as I love Jake, but I secretly wondered if maybe Ike was saying that because he was a second child himself…

A friend told me that your heart gets bigger with the birth of the second child. But how could that be? Just looking at my son can bring tears to my eyes. Wouldn’t that mean I’d be crying all the time with two?

Well, almost five months after Annie’s birth, I can say yes. I do cry quite a bit more. Not from post-partum depression (thankfully), but from this overwhelming amount of love.

It’s true. I do love Annie as much as I love Jake. However, I don’t think my heart is bigger. I think my heart is the same size…it’s just more full. It’s so full that at night after both kids are in bed, I actually hurt sometimes. I check on each child: Annie in her crib, Jake in his bed (or sometimes mine). I stop to stare. They are amazing. They are beautiful. And for just a few brief years, they are mine.

What have I learned from motherhood in the past year? I’ve learned that a second child has made our family complete. We never felt like we were missing anything from our three-person family. But when Annie was born, I think we all felt it: oh, there she is. The one who was missing.

I’ve learned that friends are very important. I’ve made a new group of friends since last Mother’s Day, a mom’s group that has come to mean so much to me. They support me, encourage me, and remind me to have a good time. They empathize with my struggles as a mom and they cheer when my kids do something new. I also have so many amazing friends to whom I can turn when I want to talk about anything but my kids (and yet, I still seem to babble about them).

I’ve learned that sometimes you have to let go of the guilt. Honestly, I could spend much more time cleaning our house and being “Good Mommy.” Many nights I’ve gone to bed thinking, “Tomorrow I’ll do better. I’ll catch up,” then the next day I don’t. I could feel terrible about that and sometimes I do. But if my children are happy and healthy, and if my family knows I love them, at the end of the day I should feel proud. The dishes will always be there. Someday my children will grow up and move away.

I’ve learned that my children have a natural love for each other that I never expected. I spent so much time worrying that Jake would feel jealous or left out after Annie was born. And yes, that happens. But he adores her, and she obviously thinks he hung the moon. When she hears his voice, she moves her little body every way she can, trying to find him. He loves to talk to her and to hold her, and when he looks at her, she is the happiest baby in the world. She giggles for him more than she does for anyone, just from him walking into the room.

I’ve learned that it’s temporary. All the unpleasant stages, the diapers, the peeing in the bed at night, the attitudes. All the “bad stuff” about being a parent is temporary. But the childhood is temporary, too. My mother-in-law said recently to me, “Just imagine what it’ll be like when your youngest is 32.” I can’t imagine. I take this time for granted. I complain about the lack of time to myself, but I need to remember that someday I’ll have too much time to myself. Someday I won’t have the little boy running into the living room five times just to tell me “one more thing” before he settles down for bed. Someday I won’t have the baby girl cuddling in my arms and staring at me adoringly. Someday my children will live on their own, perhaps with their own spouses, maybe in different states or countries.

And that’s when I’m going to start pestering them for grandkids. Because if there’s one huge lesson I’ve learned well from my experience as a mother so far, it’s this: Grandmothers are definitely “cooler” than Mothers.

Happy Mother’s Day.