February marks my first year as a mother. If you are a regular reader, you know what's coming next: A list on what I've learned in my first year of motherhood.

Love has been redefined. My heart is so full that sometimes it aches with love.

I have learned to fall asleep with a heavy blink and have a fully functional day with little to no rest.

In my 45 years on this planet, I have never had more men come on to me as when I am pushing my children around in their stroller. It can't be the epically matted mom-bun that could stay up on its own or the mascara application that is well past its freshness date that attracts them. I figure it's because they know, for a fact, by evidence of my children that I put out.

I am strong. Like superhuman strong so that I could move a car with a pinky or hear a pin drop in Indonesia from my porch in Middleburg.

***Hey, You. Pssst. Exs-scuuse-meh! I'm here to interrupt your regularly scheduled list-nonsense with a plea. This is Dixie, and I used to get all the attention before those little "Bean" things came around. Nobody knows the trouble I've seen. Nobody knows my sorrow.

Let me tell you the story… It was just me and my human for five years. Next, this tall dude and his dog moved in, which actually turned out ok because it brought more fun and a best friend. Then, about seven years later, my human started to get really fat, and when I laid on her belly, I knew that something was in there. Not like the bubbles of ice cream or stinky cheese, but something alive. We snuggled for months, oh how those were the happiest of days. Then all of a sudden, my human left didn't come home. I was really upset, but I got to talk to her every night, and after what seemed like forever, she came home with THEM. Now a year later, they're STILL HERE. What the actual frick?! Nobody ran this by me.

I mean, the good things are it rains food a lot, and there are extra hands to adore me, but it is NOT the good 'ol days of me, me, me. Plus, it is exhausting ruling over more humans now. My bestie is really having a rough time though. They up and changed her name to "Dammit." They mostly call her that when she tries to be right underfoot when they are carrying one of those Bean things.

And what about these ducks? Several times a day, my human says "duck," and I just have to draw the line. We do not have any room for ducks here.

No matter how many times I wee on my human's clothes in protest, she doesn't get it. I think that attention to stealing Beans is here to stay. So if you're passing by, I am accepting adoration in the form of extra treats, please. Respectfully, Dixie (and Dammit can have some too, I guess.)