The Eighteenth Month: April
7th
We have made a list of the words you say, but will have to stop soon, as you repeat things we've just said and seem to be able to say anything, like if I say 'I'm doing some cooking', you will say cooking or anything at the end of the sentence. Now you even say phrases, like 'Mama out / Papa out' when you hear the door shut. You also like to say 'hat on' when putting on your hat. This morning you found your little peaked cap in the basket and even put it on at a jaunty angle. When I'd packed all the food up in the hallway (to go to Capel-y-Ffin monastery), you found the glass jars and made a tower of them, which I was very impressed by, as the building blocks, which are tiny, don't seem to interest you at the moment.
You have entered a new phase, exploring your independence from me, yet hesitant about it. This has been a gradual process since I started thinking about weaning you off the breast in mid January. It has been really hard, because you have been so clear about when you want breast milk and breast comfort. When you were a year or so, you would jump up and down on my lap, and then lift my top. Then you began asking for muk; this has become 'side' (from other side) and in the last week, 'bit' – as I say, just a little bit, after you've had your one early morning feed at 6am or so (sometimes you ask for a bit more when we've got up and gone to the bathroom).
Yesterday, after napping in your pram in the back garden, you woke up with a little cry, in the sunshine. When I lifted you out you pointed and said garden or cat or flower (can't remember). I talked to you about the sunny day and said let's eat berries in the garden. I have been trying to distract you with lovely plates of fruit: raspberries, forest fruits (from frozen), grapes and mango, and beakers or cups of water or fruit tea. It rarely works immediately. You have been so used to having milk and comfort on waking, or sometimes sucking yourself back to sleep again, all of which you have done since very little. But yesterday you were completely content to sit on my lap in the sun, while I held the bowl of berries and cup. You kept giving the berries to me each time I put them down, but wouldn't eat them for ages. It's taken 2 weeks for you not to cry with anger, sadness or frustration, and not to ask for milk. It feels strange and sad that soon you will forget about it altogether. We used to have a kind of intimacy, where you tickled my belly and said 'tickle, tickle' and laughed (ickle ickle?)
A weekend away, at the monastery, Capel-y-Ffin, cut slightly short by Papa's car giving up the ghost on mountain road by Hay Bluff on Saturday. Theo and Samuel having a lovely time running down the corridor and hiding behind curtains, also looking out the window together and fiddling with the window catch. We adults got to play Scrabble and eat lots of good food and chocolate. You wake in the morning and ask for muk and when you were tired in the day say 'side, side' with a plaintive cry. I could only distract you so far. We've had a bath together the last two nights, and you notice my breasts and say 'muk', and go to put your lips near them as if playing a game – also pulling and pinching on a game - knowing that you don't really have that much any more. I tried to take photos of us this morning, to remember these last days, and have said that we will stop soon because you're a big boy.
You have become more needy this past month, since I've reduced your access to my breasts. You want to come and cuddle me when I stand at the sink, to always hold my hand when we walk. You say 'hand' to me, to be carried up and down stairs; you even say 'carry' now too. You pull at my apron (literally!) and prefer to be in the same room, crying if I go out or go to the loo, leaving you downstairs. I know you need extra care, attention and cuddles, to feel secure, and to know I am still there for you in all the other ways. It has been hard to comfort you through the times you have cried when I've refused you the breast, when you have responded with fury and sadness and I have tried to hold you, to say 'mama loves you', while you flailed around in a rage, throwing your head back, tears running down your little red face. It's taken a few weeks for you to calm down and accept my refusals and distractions without being so angry or hurt.
I feel like I need some ritual to end our breastfeeding relationship, a rite of passage marking your move from baby to toddler boy.
We managed a mammoth 2-hour walk on Saturday climbing the hill behind the monastery. Papa carried you on his shoulder going up. You eventually fell asleep in his arms at the same time as Samuel who was being carried in the backpack by his papa. I put you in the Ergo sling on my back and walked for about an hour, making the way down a very steep hill, dotted with rocks and wind-swept hawthorn trees, you still asleep on my back. Sophie, Chris and Samuel were way ahead. You wake up, distressed and crying as I was leaning down the hill, sometimes sitting on my bum to get down safely. Eventually near the bottom, knee-deep in rusting bracken, Papa arrived, having gone off down the slope in a completely different place, and I handed you over to be carried again in his arms. I don't think you disliked the sling; it was maybe just waking up where you didn't expect to be, and maybe the alarm of travelling steeply downwards. I guess if you were a little mountain boy in the Andes you would be used to being carried all the time. I was shell-shocked afterwards, and my little legs were shaking! I picked my steps carefully and hoped that we wouldn't take a tumble. We all slept well that night, going to bed at 10.15pm, after roast chicken dinner, which you wolfed down. You enjoy your food!
Delightful day with you today Tues. Ate breakfast early 7.30, saw the sunshine – a real spring day, and rejoiced. Still managed to get totally distracted by tidying the front bedroom cupboard and sorting baby clothes. You were running around happily and playing with various objects. A bit wistful when I was in the shower, asking for muk when I got out. We read Rosie's Walk, me wrapped in a towel. Eventually made it out of the house at 11.30. You walked all the way to St George's Park, so happy to be outside, and wanting to hold my hand all the way (although I managed to walk you into a car wing mirror). We went down the big slide together and you nearly fell headfirst off the little one. We saw a little boy crying, and you ran over to him and held out your hand (although' you rolled down a hill in the process). You ran after another little boy, exclaiming, ‘boy! boy! You slept for 2½ hours after this mammoth outing. When you woke up we made bikkits (walnut ones) and you were so happy running round the kitchen with the cheese slicer (a new object of fascination) and some beads. And a new game: hiding under my apron and saying boo. Talking about you on the phone to Pete, I could tell you knew we were talking about you. Something in your eyes, so I said 'you can tell we're talking about you, can't you! I've tried to relax and do little today, still hung out washing, cooked meals, tidied rather incessantly, but best of all had a lovely day with you. You were talking at the top of your voice and said 'clap, clap' when clapping. I sang 'Clap hands, daddy comes, with his pocket full of plums, all for Theo' – and you said 'Theo' – 'see-oh'!!!
Theo's words April 06
duck book pushchair pig spoon avocado
cat fitch car bug plate dirty
choochoo brush 'saur glider teddy
cot water boat bear table
dog fire fox finger peg
ball hot bee lorry sleeping
birdie moon lion truck bump
light sheep digger
garden bucket froggie rocket
side cup tortie please
coming bowl out that
gone feather down flower
horsie mama baba in
out papa stuck door
chair snake mango spoon
toast nana upstairs key
milk apple nose monkey
shoe house eyes sticky
sock tree mouth boy
trousers star ears man
coat bike hair egg
hat mousie head potato
Papa wrote this list of your 100 or so current words, and afterwards I kept a huge chart in the kitchen with word lists, categorised under headings such as food, animals, toys, nature, parts of the body, household things etc. Within a few weeks you had about 500 words, and would repeat anything we said, so we couldn’t keep up after a while!
15th
Theo my love, you are endlessly endearing, so many things happen in the day that I want to write down.
Yesterday after you woke from your nap, you were calm and sweet and started talking immediately. We went to look at some books. You usually like to be held, and not put down for ages, carried up the stairs (a new thing) etc.
We sat in the front room and you pointed at the teddy in the basket. Then you spent a few minutes imitating the bedtime ritual, sitting on my lap, tucked up with teddy, and the teddy's quilt (a mini one of your quilt made from the same fabric), while we read a story. Today you were not so contented when you woke, crying for half an hour, and wanting mama muk again. It was hard not to give in, especially as I know this was the last day, but I didn't want to go 'backwards' especially as it has been so difficult stopping the afternoon feed. I couldn't distract you with all the usual things: books, cherry compote and yoghurt etc. I sang some nursery rhymes to you, and eventually distracted you with the compote, followed my lamb stew (at 2.30pm) as you had been too tired for lunch at 12.00 as you howled the place down and wouldn't sit in your chair or put the bib on. Eventually I said have a nap, and you went in the pushchair without too much protest. I left you by the front door, door open. And you cried for a few minutes before conking out for 2 hours. We'd been to the Easton pool soft play for the first time and you had confidently climbed the ladders, and jumped about in the ball pools, running off within minutes of arriving.
Things are more challenging as you begin to assert yourself more. Lots of no, no, no when trying to put your sleep suit on last night, and running away. Likewise refusal to sit in your chair to eat sometimes, or to wear your bib, as you prefer to sit on my lap.
Today you woke at 6am, as you have for past few weeks (as a rule) and Papa went in to our room where you sleep. I think you were talking and doing animal noises together. Papa said how happy you were. You always run into the front room almost laughing with excitement, saying 'mama' and usually climb up onto me, kneading my breasts like a cat, as you have a nuzzle and feed. Sometimes your other hand is on my other breast and slipped under my haramaki, on my belly. I am always a bit sleepy, and my breasts have shrunken to the tiny, flat things they once were. It is surprising there is anything in there. I cried this morning, because today was the last day – it's Easter weekend this weekend, and Papa is here for 4 days to give you special breakfasts. Although, as you have wanted to be closer to me during this weaning period, even not wanting Papa to put you to bed and crying as I leave you with him, I have realised that 'mama' really is the significant person in the early years of a child.
I used to think so many thoughts about parenting and love, when you were a baby, and want to write them and share them with others. Now I've learned about blogs, I wish I'd started one when you were tiny. Though no one else would probably be interested in my eulogies to you.
Someone was really impressed with your speech today. At Luke's 1st birthday (Fleur Barnfather's boy) you said 'sank you' when I gave you something to eat. You were quite insistent about wanting the crisps and biscuits (which you call cake!).
In the garden over Easter weekend: you helped me 'diggin' – you loved the little spade, and sitting down in the soil! – and running about with your wellies on. I think I even heard you say 'oops a dokey'. You said 'gran pa, gumpa', as soon as we arrived in their street. You don't miss a trick! You even asked for a cuddle as a distraction, so you could get the mini garden fork from me, or at least have a look at it! (I'd said it was sharp, and not for baba – which I think you understand.)
We walked on the golf course at Ashton Court today, lying down in the sunshine while you slept. When you awoke we played dinosaurs, you riding on Papa's back – and later we found a furry bumble bee, which we told you not to touch in case it stung you, so you stamped on it, and repeated 'dead', after we said 'it's dead now'. I think you were frustrated at not being able to touch it. We discussed if you would understand the idea of death. Pete said it's primal, but I think it takes a while to understand these things. We also went on the miniature steam railway, a tiny steam engine hooked up to little benches that run on a circular railway through grass and daffodils. We both had a turn, and when you were sat in front of me in the spring sunshine I felt moved to tears that I was riding clickety clack on a little steam train with my own little boy. That it was possible and real and wonderful. The sound of the train going over the tiny track, and miniature metal bridge was just like a real one. You were more concerned at first as to where Papa was. Oh but it was lovely, a moment of awareness, of happiness.
Mornings have been OK, 3 without breastfeeding. You seemed happy with Papa – going down for warm goats milk at 6.30am, then going back to bed till porridge time. Meanwhile I am having a lie-in and a read in the spare room, a long shower and tidying up on the first morning. I didn't come down till 9am, and then you said Mama, and came to sit on my knee and lift my jumper, but we distracted you with puzzles, books, apples and berries. Today you came into the bedroom at 7am and were crying for muk. Papa was exhausted as you'd woken 3 times in the night, so I had to bring you into the back bedroom for books (Maisie), and then downstairs for porridge.
I am expressing a bit of the spare milk. It feels hard to let this liquid gold go away and sad that I may never breastfeed again. But you are full of affection and ask for 'cuddle' whenever you want to be held by me.
17th Easter Mon
Sunny day out to Bowood House, Calne, Wilts. Supper: we all ate together in our sunny kitchen at 6.30pm pasta, spinach and feta cheese, which you loved. Afterwards you had a cup of breast milk in your Winnie the Pooh cup (maybe the 5th time you've had this, and you drink it down all in one go). You tasted it and gave a big beaming smile and said 'sats milch' (that's milk) like you knew it was your favourite milk. Papa has been giving you a bottle of warm milk in the morning.
I woke up in the bed next to you this morning. A little cry at 5.40am. I brought you into our bed (Papa was next door). You cried and tried to lift my t-shirt. I cuddled you and began to sing our Brahms lullaby. You stopped crying instantly and said 'eye', pointing at my eye in the darkness, closely followed by foot, bangle and then birdy (lots of dawn chorus).
20th
Naked, about to have a shower yesterday, I brought you upstairs. You hugged me for ages as I sat in the bathroom, pressing your head onto my chest, knowing there was something special about being in contact with mama's skin, even though there was no more breast.
I held another baby today, and you asked for a cuddle. My boobs leaked, even though we stopped breastfeeding a week ago.
We have made a list of the words you say, but will have to stop soon, as you repeat things we've just said and seem to be able to say anything, like if I say 'I'm doing some cooking', you will say cooking or anything at the end of the sentence. Now you even say phrases, like 'Mama out / Papa out' when you hear the door shut. You also like to say 'hat on' when putting on your hat. This morning you found your little peaked cap in the basket and even put it on at a jaunty angle. When I'd packed all the food up in the hallway (to go to Capel-y-Ffin monastery), you found the glass jars and made a tower of them, which I was very impressed by, as the building blocks, which are tiny, don't seem to interest you at the moment.
You have entered a new phase, exploring your independence from me, yet hesitant about it. This has been a gradual process since I started thinking about weaning you off the breast in mid January. It has been really hard, because you have been so clear about when you want breast milk and breast comfort. When you were a year or so, you would jump up and down on my lap, and then lift my top. Then you began asking for muk; this has become 'side' (from other side) and in the last week, 'bit' – as I say, just a little bit, after you've had your one early morning feed at 6am or so (sometimes you ask for a bit more when we've got up and gone to the bathroom).
Yesterday, after napping in your pram in the back garden, you woke up with a little cry, in the sunshine. When I lifted you out you pointed and said garden or cat or flower (can't remember). I talked to you about the sunny day and said let's eat berries in the garden. I have been trying to distract you with lovely plates of fruit: raspberries, forest fruits (from frozen), grapes and mango, and beakers or cups of water or fruit tea. It rarely works immediately. You have been so used to having milk and comfort on waking, or sometimes sucking yourself back to sleep again, all of which you have done since very little. But yesterday you were completely content to sit on my lap in the sun, while I held the bowl of berries and cup. You kept giving the berries to me each time I put them down, but wouldn't eat them for ages. It's taken 2 weeks for you not to cry with anger, sadness or frustration, and not to ask for milk. It feels strange and sad that soon you will forget about it altogether. We used to have a kind of intimacy, where you tickled my belly and said 'tickle, tickle' and laughed (ickle ickle?)
A weekend away, at the monastery, Capel-y-Ffin, cut slightly short by Papa's car giving up the ghost on mountain road by Hay Bluff on Saturday. Theo and Samuel having a lovely time running down the corridor and hiding behind curtains, also looking out the window together and fiddling with the window catch. We adults got to play Scrabble and eat lots of good food and chocolate. You wake in the morning and ask for muk and when you were tired in the day say 'side, side' with a plaintive cry. I could only distract you so far. We've had a bath together the last two nights, and you notice my breasts and say 'muk', and go to put your lips near them as if playing a game – also pulling and pinching on a game - knowing that you don't really have that much any more. I tried to take photos of us this morning, to remember these last days, and have said that we will stop soon because you're a big boy.
You have become more needy this past month, since I've reduced your access to my breasts. You want to come and cuddle me when I stand at the sink, to always hold my hand when we walk. You say 'hand' to me, to be carried up and down stairs; you even say 'carry' now too. You pull at my apron (literally!) and prefer to be in the same room, crying if I go out or go to the loo, leaving you downstairs. I know you need extra care, attention and cuddles, to feel secure, and to know I am still there for you in all the other ways. It has been hard to comfort you through the times you have cried when I've refused you the breast, when you have responded with fury and sadness and I have tried to hold you, to say 'mama loves you', while you flailed around in a rage, throwing your head back, tears running down your little red face. It's taken a few weeks for you to calm down and accept my refusals and distractions without being so angry or hurt.
I feel like I need some ritual to end our breastfeeding relationship, a rite of passage marking your move from baby to toddler boy.
We managed a mammoth 2-hour walk on Saturday climbing the hill behind the monastery. Papa carried you on his shoulder going up. You eventually fell asleep in his arms at the same time as Samuel who was being carried in the backpack by his papa. I put you in the Ergo sling on my back and walked for about an hour, making the way down a very steep hill, dotted with rocks and wind-swept hawthorn trees, you still asleep on my back. Sophie, Chris and Samuel were way ahead. You wake up, distressed and crying as I was leaning down the hill, sometimes sitting on my bum to get down safely. Eventually near the bottom, knee-deep in rusting bracken, Papa arrived, having gone off down the slope in a completely different place, and I handed you over to be carried again in his arms. I don't think you disliked the sling; it was maybe just waking up where you didn't expect to be, and maybe the alarm of travelling steeply downwards. I guess if you were a little mountain boy in the Andes you would be used to being carried all the time. I was shell-shocked afterwards, and my little legs were shaking! I picked my steps carefully and hoped that we wouldn't take a tumble. We all slept well that night, going to bed at 10.15pm, after roast chicken dinner, which you wolfed down. You enjoy your food!
Delightful day with you today Tues. Ate breakfast early 7.30, saw the sunshine – a real spring day, and rejoiced. Still managed to get totally distracted by tidying the front bedroom cupboard and sorting baby clothes. You were running around happily and playing with various objects. A bit wistful when I was in the shower, asking for muk when I got out. We read Rosie's Walk, me wrapped in a towel. Eventually made it out of the house at 11.30. You walked all the way to St George's Park, so happy to be outside, and wanting to hold my hand all the way (although I managed to walk you into a car wing mirror). We went down the big slide together and you nearly fell headfirst off the little one. We saw a little boy crying, and you ran over to him and held out your hand (although' you rolled down a hill in the process). You ran after another little boy, exclaiming, ‘boy! boy! You slept for 2½ hours after this mammoth outing. When you woke up we made bikkits (walnut ones) and you were so happy running round the kitchen with the cheese slicer (a new object of fascination) and some beads. And a new game: hiding under my apron and saying boo. Talking about you on the phone to Pete, I could tell you knew we were talking about you. Something in your eyes, so I said 'you can tell we're talking about you, can't you! I've tried to relax and do little today, still hung out washing, cooked meals, tidied rather incessantly, but best of all had a lovely day with you. You were talking at the top of your voice and said 'clap, clap' when clapping. I sang 'Clap hands, daddy comes, with his pocket full of plums, all for Theo' – and you said 'Theo' – 'see-oh'!!!
Theo's words April 06
duck book pushchair pig spoon avocado
cat fitch car bug plate dirty
choochoo brush 'saur glider teddy
cot water boat bear table
dog fire fox finger peg
ball hot bee lorry sleeping
birdie moon lion truck bump
light sheep digger
garden bucket froggie rocket
side cup tortie please
coming bowl out that
gone feather down flower
horsie mama baba in
out papa stuck door
chair snake mango spoon
toast nana upstairs key
milk apple nose monkey
shoe house eyes sticky
sock tree mouth boy
trousers star ears man
coat bike hair egg
hat mousie head potato
Papa wrote this list of your 100 or so current words, and afterwards I kept a huge chart in the kitchen with word lists, categorised under headings such as food, animals, toys, nature, parts of the body, household things etc. Within a few weeks you had about 500 words, and would repeat anything we said, so we couldn’t keep up after a while!
15th
Theo my love, you are endlessly endearing, so many things happen in the day that I want to write down.
Yesterday after you woke from your nap, you were calm and sweet and started talking immediately. We went to look at some books. You usually like to be held, and not put down for ages, carried up the stairs (a new thing) etc.
We sat in the front room and you pointed at the teddy in the basket. Then you spent a few minutes imitating the bedtime ritual, sitting on my lap, tucked up with teddy, and the teddy's quilt (a mini one of your quilt made from the same fabric), while we read a story. Today you were not so contented when you woke, crying for half an hour, and wanting mama muk again. It was hard not to give in, especially as I know this was the last day, but I didn't want to go 'backwards' especially as it has been so difficult stopping the afternoon feed. I couldn't distract you with all the usual things: books, cherry compote and yoghurt etc. I sang some nursery rhymes to you, and eventually distracted you with the compote, followed my lamb stew (at 2.30pm) as you had been too tired for lunch at 12.00 as you howled the place down and wouldn't sit in your chair or put the bib on. Eventually I said have a nap, and you went in the pushchair without too much protest. I left you by the front door, door open. And you cried for a few minutes before conking out for 2 hours. We'd been to the Easton pool soft play for the first time and you had confidently climbed the ladders, and jumped about in the ball pools, running off within minutes of arriving.
Things are more challenging as you begin to assert yourself more. Lots of no, no, no when trying to put your sleep suit on last night, and running away. Likewise refusal to sit in your chair to eat sometimes, or to wear your bib, as you prefer to sit on my lap.
Today you woke at 6am, as you have for past few weeks (as a rule) and Papa went in to our room where you sleep. I think you were talking and doing animal noises together. Papa said how happy you were. You always run into the front room almost laughing with excitement, saying 'mama' and usually climb up onto me, kneading my breasts like a cat, as you have a nuzzle and feed. Sometimes your other hand is on my other breast and slipped under my haramaki, on my belly. I am always a bit sleepy, and my breasts have shrunken to the tiny, flat things they once were. It is surprising there is anything in there. I cried this morning, because today was the last day – it's Easter weekend this weekend, and Papa is here for 4 days to give you special breakfasts. Although, as you have wanted to be closer to me during this weaning period, even not wanting Papa to put you to bed and crying as I leave you with him, I have realised that 'mama' really is the significant person in the early years of a child.
I used to think so many thoughts about parenting and love, when you were a baby, and want to write them and share them with others. Now I've learned about blogs, I wish I'd started one when you were tiny. Though no one else would probably be interested in my eulogies to you.
Someone was really impressed with your speech today. At Luke's 1st birthday (Fleur Barnfather's boy) you said 'sank you' when I gave you something to eat. You were quite insistent about wanting the crisps and biscuits (which you call cake!).
In the garden over Easter weekend: you helped me 'diggin' – you loved the little spade, and sitting down in the soil! – and running about with your wellies on. I think I even heard you say 'oops a dokey'. You said 'gran pa, gumpa', as soon as we arrived in their street. You don't miss a trick! You even asked for a cuddle as a distraction, so you could get the mini garden fork from me, or at least have a look at it! (I'd said it was sharp, and not for baba – which I think you understand.)
We walked on the golf course at Ashton Court today, lying down in the sunshine while you slept. When you awoke we played dinosaurs, you riding on Papa's back – and later we found a furry bumble bee, which we told you not to touch in case it stung you, so you stamped on it, and repeated 'dead', after we said 'it's dead now'. I think you were frustrated at not being able to touch it. We discussed if you would understand the idea of death. Pete said it's primal, but I think it takes a while to understand these things. We also went on the miniature steam railway, a tiny steam engine hooked up to little benches that run on a circular railway through grass and daffodils. We both had a turn, and when you were sat in front of me in the spring sunshine I felt moved to tears that I was riding clickety clack on a little steam train with my own little boy. That it was possible and real and wonderful. The sound of the train going over the tiny track, and miniature metal bridge was just like a real one. You were more concerned at first as to where Papa was. Oh but it was lovely, a moment of awareness, of happiness.
Mornings have been OK, 3 without breastfeeding. You seemed happy with Papa – going down for warm goats milk at 6.30am, then going back to bed till porridge time. Meanwhile I am having a lie-in and a read in the spare room, a long shower and tidying up on the first morning. I didn't come down till 9am, and then you said Mama, and came to sit on my knee and lift my jumper, but we distracted you with puzzles, books, apples and berries. Today you came into the bedroom at 7am and were crying for muk. Papa was exhausted as you'd woken 3 times in the night, so I had to bring you into the back bedroom for books (Maisie), and then downstairs for porridge.
I am expressing a bit of the spare milk. It feels hard to let this liquid gold go away and sad that I may never breastfeed again. But you are full of affection and ask for 'cuddle' whenever you want to be held by me.
17th Easter Mon
Sunny day out to Bowood House, Calne, Wilts. Supper: we all ate together in our sunny kitchen at 6.30pm pasta, spinach and feta cheese, which you loved. Afterwards you had a cup of breast milk in your Winnie the Pooh cup (maybe the 5th time you've had this, and you drink it down all in one go). You tasted it and gave a big beaming smile and said 'sats milch' (that's milk) like you knew it was your favourite milk. Papa has been giving you a bottle of warm milk in the morning.
I woke up in the bed next to you this morning. A little cry at 5.40am. I brought you into our bed (Papa was next door). You cried and tried to lift my t-shirt. I cuddled you and began to sing our Brahms lullaby. You stopped crying instantly and said 'eye', pointing at my eye in the darkness, closely followed by foot, bangle and then birdy (lots of dawn chorus).
20th
Naked, about to have a shower yesterday, I brought you upstairs. You hugged me for ages as I sat in the bathroom, pressing your head onto my chest, knowing there was something special about being in contact with mama's skin, even though there was no more breast.
I held another baby today, and you asked for a cuddle. My boobs leaked, even though we stopped breastfeeding a week ago.
posted by f at 3:00 PM
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