The happiest day of 2010 for me was the day that our new son was born.

The happiest day of 2011?  The day he finally slept all night without somebody having to hold him.

It never occurred to me that the littlest things, like actually sleeping in the same bed at the same time for the first time in more than six weeks, would become such huge victories. But life has completely changed after having our second child, and in ways we never really expected.

No one tells you that two kids isn't really twice the work, that it somehow magnifies by a power of 10 or 20. That naps are never going to mesh correctly, and one child is almost always awake at any given moment.  There is no hand-off or quiet moment.  One kid will always be screaming, just as surely as you can guarantee that anytime a pacifier pops out of a baby's mouth it will roll directly underneath the couch.

But they also don't mention how much more exponential the love is, as well. Or that when you're still waiting for the newborn to give you a smile or a coo—or anything sort of feedback that might make you feel as if you mean anything more to him than a bottle of food or arms to sleep in—your preschooler will know just the right time to crawl into your lap and say, "I love you, Mama."

Having a second child is an endless balancing act of trying to meet all of his demands and still give her some much needed attention, too. You have to somehow accomplish eight to ten hours of work a day despite a baby who wants to eat every two hours, who has no real naptime, and is at his happiest when he is asleep on your chest, even as you type away at your laptop underneath him.

There are many days when I never manage to drink the coffee while it is still warm, when I peck at the keyboard with one hand and burp the baby with the other, sometimes with a conference call on the speaker in the background.

I often say that a work-at-home mom works two jobs simultaneously, and neither one seems to come with a lunch break.

But both jobs teach me the importance of time: the time I get to spend with my new son, watching each new grin or raised head.  There are the mornings I get to wake my daughter by climbing into bed next to her. And these new nights when my husband and I finally get to be in bed at the same time.

I'm hoping we parents can share some time here at Fridley Patch—swap stories about our favorite Saturday activities, the quest to discover the best playground in a five-miles radius, or how a simple batch of bread dough can keep a three-year-old occupied for a solid hour and still be in decent shape to bake for dinner. I may not have a lot of secrets, but what I have I am happy to tell you. I hope in exchange you'll share your secrets with me, too.