The Needham Family

My How A Year Changes Everything

Its been a little over a year since I was laid off and seriously, I think it was the best thing that has ever happened to me and my family. I was far from thinking anything good about it when it happened.

I think a lay off can create so many emotions, feeling personally rejected by people I regarded as friends in my small office was probably the hardest part. Add all that on top of being six months pregnant and the crazy emotions that come with all those hormones and I was no short of a complete wreck for a couple of weeks. And then there was the fear - I'm supposed to be a SAHM now? I'm sorry, what? Me and my child together, alone? How do all those other mothers seem to do it so effortlessly?

But I, I mean, we did it (seriously, it was a group effort). And while there are days I miss getting dressed up in something other than tennis shoes and going somewhere other than the gym and preschool, I wouldn't trade a moment of the last year for my old job.

This new job isn't perfect and I still have doubts if I was cut out for it and sometimes think I'm failing miserably. It's not constant hugs and homemade baby food. It is a lot of crying and realizing that nothing, not breastfeeding a newborn with boobs hanging out in public or carrying a screaming toddler from a playground, to walking around the grocery store with leaky breasts can embarrass me. It's been a year of giving up - from stress to control to scheduling (I will rearrange anything for nap time), it's all gone out the window and everyone is happier. It's been a year of learning - from how to cook dinner on a consistent basis to the best way to remove play-doh from hair - the dog's and the toddler's and a million things in between.

Maybe it took me a year of not working to realize how unimportant what I did for a living really was. Unimportant to me in this time of my life. (And this coming from someone who a few short years ago read and agreed with Linda Hirshman's book. Now that is change) But no press release is ever going to change the world - except the one that says Verizon's gonna have an iPhone, but they weren't clients!  

Raising kids isn't going to change the world either, but it's changed me and my children have shown me more about patience, kindness, fun, heartache, and laughter than any job ever did. And because of that, I'll keep this gig a little while longer. Or until David tells me to get a job!

The Boys

Lila and I are out numbered around here. Maybe we should get another dog. Yes, that's what we need. Because the one we have isn't already the work of two small children. They way he steals food, barks at nothing, wakes sleeping babies and hides in covers.

 
 I'd like to call this one: Cute and HOT.

   
And this one, Dumb and Happy (and trying to crawl)

 
And this one, Spoiled Rotten and stealer of butterfly wings and keeper of purses.

And this one, Sweet and Sweet. 

 
 

Eight Months Today. I Mean Yesterday.

It's so cliche, but so true. Time is flying.

Our little man is not a little baby anymore. He's 20 lbs of talking, laughing, eating  (with four teeth) trying to crawl, pulling himself up and 100% mama's boy. Really that should be like 150% mama's boy. It's just a totally different experience than with Lila. But it does mean that his first word was "MAMA!" This is monumental as Lila didn't say Mama until she was almost a year old but she was practically born saying Dada. Of course two weeks later, Andy followed up with Dada but we don't hear it as regularly as MAMA. And that little boy is so smart, he knows to throw out a "MAMA" when I put him on the floor and attempt to walk away from him. Or when I hand him over to someone else. Let's just say he spends little time on the floor by himself and I'm the sucker.

The last two months have been plagued by ear infections - we are on antibiotic number five and the doctor is threatening injections of antibiotics if that doesn't work. (Our pedis VERY conservative about tubes and I'm totally on board with that, for now) But I'm desperate for a happy baby, preferably the one who slept through the night before all this, and one who isn't so intense for his mommy that she'll cart him around on her hip all day and let him sleep in her bed in the wee hours of the morn (I know, I know, HUGE SUCKER. We are stopping this ASAP. I promise).

 

And 8 months is going to mark our first real break from one another, mother and son. I think we both need it. I'm mentally and physically worn out from the care giving. And let's be honest, that's not saying much since my care giving kind of stops at 6 p.m. and on the weekends. But today, I'm off to the beach for the Alpha retreat with church. I've done this trip a few times before, but never without David. I'll miss him most, but look forward to coming back refreshed and recharged - spiritually and physically (two nights of uninterrupted sleep). And David is going to be just fine with two kids. One who doesn't sleep and the other who's non-stop, "Dance with me Daddy. Wear a tutu with me Daddy. More milk Daddy." Yeah, he'll be fine.

Off to pry this baby out of my arms so I can pack.

Happy St. Patrick's Day

We celebrated kilts, Guinness and leprechauns over the weekend at the St. Patty's Day Parade with Dude and good friends.

 

 

 

Please note David's beer bracelet on her arm. She wanted, "Daddy's green bracelet" and I wanted a quiet ride home. We both won.  
 
 
This totally cracks me up - the Superman curl in the front of my head, and Holly, in the middle, gave birth to a 9lb baby Monday. As in TWO days after this pic was taken. Seriously.

Here's hoping Lila will comply and wear her cute four-leaf clover dress again today, but I've pretty much given up the fight of telling her what she's going to wear and having her say "No" and sweep open her closet door and tell me," I wear this tutu to school today, Mama."  We've told her that the hem on all dresses are tutus so that she'll wear them. So tutus are dresses and I'm mom of the year.

Eight Weeks and Two Days Later

Yup. 58 days of craziness and here I sit in my recently gutted and put back together kitchen. Everything looks exactly the same but with new floors. Not the floors that I had originally picked out. Those would be the ones that were put down and THEN I decided I didn't like them. Nice. But I love the new ones. That's not exactly true - I love the color, but they got the size wrong. I decided we were not going to rip out floors for a second time and that I could love these new ones. I mean they are just floors and we were THISCLOSE to being done with everything regarding the kitchen, no way I was going to postpone it any longer because of a size technicality.

Had I known that a leak from an upstairs toilet would have cause the turmoil it did, I would have immediately called my doctor and asked for some really good drugs to get me through the two months in a sedated, happy state. As that wasn't the case, I can happily say my marriage survived, my kids are still happy and I know what crazy really feels like. There are still parts of this house that haven't been cleaned since Christmas and let me tell you there are certain spots that I can write my name in the dust. And I know David sees these areas everyday and thinks to himself, "Is tonight the night she's going to freak out over that and we are up until midnight dusting?" We did that recently with the floors. Good times.

We did escape to Florida for a week - Lila for two! I felt most bad for her as all her toys had been moved to one corner of the house, blocked by boxes of all our kitchen stuff so her 30 minute a day TV limit got shot fast. In the process of watching more TV, I discovered we have NOGGIN. We who do not have cable have NOGGIN. And that Olivia show freaks me OUT. So weird how they walk on those hooves all like on their tippy toes and their mouths - they way they move when that talk. Agh - freaked out. 

It's good to be back. Back in the kitchen, back home, back in the routine of our exciting (har har) lives.