Saturday, May 23, 2015

My Little Lulu











Some pictures of the kids and my mom in my parents' backyard. My sister got married a few weeks ago, and the kids and I stayed a few days afterwards to visit. This particular day, we visited my sisters and brother-in-law in Logan, so the kids earned some outside time after lots of driving in the car.
The lighting wasn't perfect but the kids were so enraptured with the bubbles, I couldn't resist snapping a few pictures. This Minnie Mouse bubble solution was seriously some of the best bubble stuff I've ever seen. Big shiny bubbles all over da place.

Mostly I'm putting up some pictures so I have a reason to write about how I'm feeling about my baby daughter, who is deciding to be less baby all the time.

This month she started walking. No surprise there, really, and while it's rough having not one but two little people getting into all the things, she's so cute toddling around, I find I don't feel very sentimental about it at all. I'm proud of her and happy that she is so pleased with her new walking skills.

More difficult for me to handle was her sudden decision to stop nursing. Tuesday morning, Mike brought Lucy to our bed as he usually did after she woke up. As I got ready to nurse her, she fussed and whined and pulled away from me. When she turned me down, I thought she might be teething; maybe her little gums were tender and she didn't want to put any pressure on them. When I put her in her high chair, though, she ate the hugest breakfast of her life.

It was so puzzling. I tried to nurse her throughout the day, and each time, just laying her in my lap offended her. She would start to roll away and frantically crawl off my lap. I gave her a sippy cup of pumped milk and she threw it on the floor a few times. I checked out my milk to make sure it was bitter or sour. It seemed fine.

Another day or two of rejection and I couldn't deny what my gut already knew: Lucy was done nursing. Charlie slowly stopped nursing shortly after he turned one. We probably tapered off for about seven or eight weeks after his birthday, until we were only nursing before bedtime. It felt very natural to simply stop that last feeding, and he was done. This time, though, Lucy went from nursing five or six times a day to not nursing at all. Talk about slamming on the brakes. It's been agony for me, physically, ever since. I'm hoping my body will get the memo by the end of the weekend.

Other stupid thing that makes me feel bad? I never took any pictures of Lucy nursing. I have a few of Charlie and cherish them. It's my own fault, but I never imagined she would up and quit at 10 months.

On the upside, hello freedom! It's nice to not have to worry about how long I've been away from Lucy, or if I need to have pumping gear with me in case she skips a feeding or I can't get home in time to nurse. And I don't have to dress for nursing each day. Hooray!

Lucy's almost one. I can't believe it. She has become very independent and stubborn, but equally inquisitive and playful. We take it all in stride, I suppose.

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