The last few weeks, she’s only been nursing right before bed.
“Nurse me, peas,” she’d say at bedtime in the sweetest of voices.
But last night, she fell asleep while I was reading “The Indian in the Cupboard” out loud (Amazing book, by the way…we’re all enchanted by it). Tonight was the exact same scenario.
I looked at her as I left the room – long lashes, rounded cheeks, pursed lips. Still my baby, yet growing up into herself too. Like bittersweet chocolate.
“Weaning has been pretty seamless this time,” I told Tim, wistfully, happily. “You said that last time too,” he said. “True,” I replied, “but this time was even more peaceful…because she’s a bit older.”
At what age did your baby wean? What was the process like for you?
In the mornings, when the sun begins shooting gentle rays through the cracks in the blinds, my 19-month-old begins to squirm beside me. I look at the clock and the hands tell me it’s still a little early yet. So I lay a gentle hand on her back, “Shhh…Mama’s got you.” Her body curls into mine and she latches on comfortably, relaxing into me.




















