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It’s Almost Over.

I think Sammy is weaning himself.

He’s nearly 15 months old, and I know I should be prepared for this and ready for it to happen, but quite honestly I’m not. It makes me sad to think that he’s getting so big and that he’s not an infant anymore. I logically know this is true, but still, he is my baby.

We’ve been down to just nursing at night and sometimes in the mornings (when I’m trying to get a few more minutes of shut-eye), but lately Sammy hasn’t been nursing in very long stints – something much more exciting is always going on around him, and he’s soon ready to crawl off to find a ball or play with his sister. And the number one sign he’s just not that into it anymore – he doesn’t point and squeal at my laptop the way he used to when he wanted to nurse. (What? He thinks my laptop is somehow related to the nursing process, since it’s omnipresent when we sit down on the couch. Is that not normal??)

Tonight he was super tired and ready for bed, but I wanted to nurse him to sleep. I don’t normally do that, but tonight I wanted to pay attention, to make sure I remembered this night if in fact it turned out to be the last time he nursed. So we sat in the rocking chair in his room as we’ve done so many times before, and I just stared at him, trying to burn his soft little baby face into my memory. I want to remember everything about him.

He is my baby.

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The $1 Million Question

Wayyyy back in the day when Jenny and Bobby got married, I gave them a card that said something along the lines of “Congratulations! You’re never going to have to hear ‘When are you going to get married?’ again!” on the outside, and on the inside it said “So when are you going to have a baby?”

And then after the first… “Ready for another one??”

Then after the second (and I presume subsequent children as well), the common refrain is “So are you done now?”

Which, my friends, is where Andy and I are right now.

Before Sammy was born, I would have (and did) answered that question with an emphatic “Hell yeah!” I mean, I practically had him scheduled for the ol’ snip snip.

Now, though, it’s more of a {face contorted} “Yes. I think so. Probably. Maybe. I don’t know.”

And that’s just it – I don’t know.

It doesn’t make sense for us to have more kids. We don’t have another bedroom, and Sammy’s is already super small. We don’t have room for another car seat. And I can’t even begin to think about the financial implications of another baby.

But… I see things like Megan’s ultrasound or hear a tiny baby cry and my uterus skips a beat.

I also realize, though, that those things probably happen regardless. I mean, what are you supposed to do – keep having children until the sights/sounds of pregnancy and babies are repulsive? That doesn’t sound like such a good plan.

So tell me, readers, how did you know that you were done? Or how did you know that you’re not?

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Sammy Chatter

All of the sudden, almost over night, it seems like Sammy is talking a lot! It sounds weird to say “it seems” because he is talking a lot, but since he is the second child and I have no time to read weekly “Here’s what your kid should be doing” emails from Babycenter, I have no idea if he’s actually talking a lot for a 14-month-old or not. And contrary to my type-A neurotic personality, I don’t really care.

He is talking a lot for him, anyway, and it is SO CUTE.

He’s been saying “Mama,” “Dada,” and – his favorite – “ball” for several months now, but now his vocabulary has expanded to include “night night,” “down,” “Daisy” (his sitter’s dog), “Papa,” umm…. and other stuff that I can’t think of right now.

It’s so exciting to watch his speech develop, because it seems like he’s saying something, or several things, new every day. Last night was the first time I ever got him to perform – I’d ask him to say one of his words and he’d repeat it. This morning, when he woke up and I went to get him out of his crib, and he said “I want down” plain as day. I said “You want down?” and he said “I want down.” So I did this several more times until he looked at me like “Seriously lady, how many times do I have to tell you?”

He’s so smart and so cute. (yes, I know I’m his mom.) He still can’t walk.

But the boy can dance.

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