transitions

I look like a walking buffet and smell like a garbage can - I'm actually not sure how anyone can eat cabbage after smelling it.

And if you are totally lost, google the effects of cabbage leaves on breastmilk, and you'll be caught up on the info regarding my journey with weaning.

I'm well aware that I am sharing more than anyone ever wanted to know about boobs, breastmilk, and weaning.  I'll try not to let it happen again.

We are officially ten days in, and after a major slip up in which habitual behaviors took over while my brain was occupied, and the milk reappeared for five seconds, we are doing good.  The nights are not nearly as bad as I imagined - they are more of a nightmare because as perfectly horrible timing would have it, Eisley has been sick.

I feel the same range of emotions as I always knew I would; the last of her babyhood seems gone.  I'll hold on to her sparsely-haired head for as long as it means she doesn't look quite her age.

I remember how it all began, and I know that I'll never do it again.  I have been pregnant or nursing for so long now, it feels so weird to be without a little critter close to me at all times.

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While I feel like I could come complain about the doctor's office not cooperating, the cell phone dropping every single phone call I make or receive, or the fact that I completely busted my sewing machine and dented our floor, we went to an amazing church service yesterday where I was reminded that it isn't all about me.

So instead, I smiled at the lady helping me figure out the phone issues, thanked the lady at the doctor's office, scribbled in some wood color on the floor and called it good.  The half-sewed curtains will have to continue waiting for me to find a) spare time and b) a new sewing machine.

We spent the weekend with my mom, have upcoming visits from very special people, and I'm finalizing Disney plans.  

Life is good.