On Breastfeeding

I nursed Fable to sleep last night, like I do every night, but when I put her down and left the room, she started crying. I let her cry for a few minutes, and then because I'm a sucker, I went in to rescue her. I picked her up, put her in my lap, her cheek against my chest, and we rocked. She immediately went quiet, and it wasn't long before I heard her deep, rhythmic breaths. And it struck me then, that I had comforted her without my boobs.

One more month until I begin weaning my little girl. I am so thankful and proud that we've made it this far, and while I have loved breastfeeding, I also look forward to holding my daughter just to hold her. As it is now, whenever she is in my arms, she wants to nurse. I love that she loves it, I really do. I love how she opens her mouth wide, holds my breast with both hands, and becomes instantly relaxed when she latches.

Yes, I will miss that. Very much.

Fable Lately

She pulls herself up on the furniture, and makes her way around the room. She touches the sheepskin on the arm of the sofa and says, "Saaaaaaf."

She finds the remote control, points it toward the television and pushes the buttons, turning to an infomercial. Always an informercial.

She sees her reflection in a mirror and immediately pulls out the bow I had managed to clip in her hair an hour ago when she was distracted. Had she known it was there, she would have pulled it out an hour ago.

She has lots of toys, but she'd prefer to see what's in the kitchen cabinets or under the bathroom sink, or in any kind of bag, box, drawer or basket within reach. Or she'll sit at the top of the stairs, trying to work up the nerve to climb down to the basement.

She puts this teether or my Burt's Bees lip balm in her mouth and crawls around or lounges against a wall, drool spilling out of her mouth and making puddles in the carpet.

She watches Elmo's Song over and over and over. She smiles as she sways and bounces to the music. Every. Time.

She'll point to my nose when I ask her where her mama's nose is. I praise her and she squeals with delight. She also points to my nose when I ask her to find my ears and hair.

She sleeps through the night and naps in her crib. Sometimes.

She is more fun every day. So. Much. Fun.