2 1/2 and 6 months

Photos courteous of the amazing Mikey Siegel

"Oliver is 6 months old" "Why?"

The title of this post sums up so much of what is going on in our home. Our little baby has turned 6 months old. This is so significant to me on so many levels. After Oliver was born, and I was feeling overwhelmed with the idea of caring for newborn (which, let's be real here, is tedious) and a 2 year old, I kept telling myself that once he hit six months it would be amazing. Luckily for us, it hit amazing earlier than 6 months, but I am so enjoying our little man as he reaches this milestone. He is doing all sorts of amazing things: sitting, rolling, crawling, babbling, laughing, holding a bottle, and so much more. But most importantly, he smiles. He smiles at his family, at strangers, at animals, at the ceiling, at his hands, at his feet, he basically smiles at everyone and everything, and he is a joy to behold. I am constantly turning around because I hear giggling behind me, only to find out that it is because Oliver is flirting with the nearest person. A joy. This video will show you what I mean.



And Zoe, my BFF. She likes to tell me, "Hi BFF." And I like to say it right back. She should be in the dictionary under precocious, and sassy, and cool. She is so cool, this kid of ours. She is fun to be with, and such a pistol. She is very into asking "Why?" Tonight at dinner was no exception. She asked Rich what he does at work. After everything he said, she said, "Why?" He was a total trooper and just kept coming up with answers for her. Much more patient than I am. I usually end up telling her that is enough with the why questions and we need to move on.

I'm starting to drop feedings this weekend, and I can't believe the time is already here. I am definitely excited to drop the daytime feedings, and will keep the morning and night feedings as long as I want. I'm ready.

Letting Go: Part 1 of Many

I have been nursing Oliver for 5 1/2 months. It has been five months since I have had dairy or soy, but that doesn't really matter to me anymore.



I am not some LLL (La Leche League) nazi, or an earth mother; I'm actually as far from those two things as one could imagine. I just like to nurse my kid. I like to connect with the one who often gets lost in the bustle of the day. My baby boy who just sits and looks around with his gummy grin. The little man who makes everyone's day just a little big brighter. He doesn't fuss or cry or complain. And unlike his sister, he doesn't request, demand, inquire or usurp. So we go about our day and he goes from place to place, until it is time to eat. Then it is our time.

I can connect with him, and apologize for the time he spent in an exersaucer or a bouncy. I can whisper quietly to him and tell him all the things I wish and hope for him without any interruption. Zoe respects his nursing and respects his time. She'd rather play or, if I'm feeling particularly generous, watch tv.

It is getting close to 6 months, which is the length of time I said I would nurse Oliver. My body must have been listening, because my milk seems to be drying up, and Oliver is getting more and more frustrated when he nurses. I don't know if I'm completely ready to give it up, and I'll try to hold on to the morning and night feedings as long as I can, but I can feel it slipping away from me, and I am much more sad than I thought. I'm not sad to stop nursing, because frankly it is getting annoying, but I am going to miss that time. The time when it is just the two of us and we are doing our thing. My little man, the perfect boy.