Well, my daughter is 19 months, and it is apparent that if I don’t want to be nursing her forever, I’ll have to wean her. It was my goal to nurse her through 18 months, but now that she’s past that, it just feels like she’s a little too old to nurse, especially since she’s holding conversations about it.
I don’t have a whole lot of time to sit down and read, though I love doing so. Often, I use the time that I’m sitting anyways, while nursing, to read. In Audrey’s room is a stack of three decorative hatboxes that I use as a side table, and on it is usually my current reading selection. I do have one book that I just started, but I’m finding it hard to get into it (in spite of its high recommendation from a friend), and a nonfiction book which I just didn’t feel like reading. And, my current magazine of choice I’d just finished reading last night.
This morning, as Audrey and I sat in the rocker, about to nurse, she looked around, sensing that all was not in order. “Book?” she inquired.
“No, I’m not going to read a book this morning.”
I burst out laughing. “No, no books, and no magazines.”
I thought my boy #2, Grant, was an early, perceptive talker. But this takes the cake.