Weaning. Complete.

Butterball, also known as Monkey, Peanut, and Baby-girl is completely weaned. It's happy and sad all at the same time. I'm glad that I'm not tied down to her. I can go away for the evening and leave her with a babysitter without worries about how she'll get back to sleep without me being around. The other day, she had a hard time getting down for nap, and it had only been a few days since her last nurse. I figured I could try to soothe her if she wanted to. She didn't. She just wanted to be cuddled by Daddy.

This time around weaning was a lot easier than with Little Monster. I got her onto a schedule where she was nursing when she woke up, before her morning and afternoon naps, and then before bed. After a few weeks I took away the first nurse of the day, and eventually took away the nursing before nap time. Those were sort of by accident, as quite often she'd been skipping them anyway as we ran errands during the day. After a couple of weeks when she'd only been nursed at night, I had Daddy help out. He rocked her to sleep with a glass of milk for a few days and it was done.

Just like last time, I miss it occasionally. Weaning just seems like the beginning of the end. She's no longer an infant. She's a toddler. She is pretty good at telling us what she wants, and eats everything she can get her hands on.

I do however enjoy the fact that my body is mine again. I don't need to worry about what I eat, drink, put on my skin. It's nice. Now the question is -- what's new in Bras? I'm afraid I've been wearing the same nursing bras for far too long, and I'm ready to be done with them too.

A lesson in Sharing...

Over the weekend my grandmother passed away. This is a photo from the last time we were able to visit. (Never mind the evil look -- he was a bit freaked out by all of the tubes.)

It isn't the greatest picture, but it has four generations of my family. I was talking about everything with my husband, and Little Monster wanted to know what we were talking about. After I explained everything to him he thought for a minute, looked out of the corner of his eyes like kids do when they are in the depths of serious contemplation...

"Mommy. It's okay. You can share my grandma."

It's nice of him to think that way. And I don't mind sharing his grandmothers with him. Not even one little bit.

typical evening...

Me: Rambling on about some topic, perhaps reading my blog entry to my husband until, finally -- "Are you EVEN LISTENING TO ME? Did you hear what I SAID?"

Him: Yes. You were talking. About something.

*Sigh*

Do I get to throw one of those temper tantrums now?

Exercise -- it's not for wimps.

Since my husband has been on the "fat bastard" program the Navy runs, I've felt a little guilty. And I've needed an excuse to use my new (nook) toy. So, I've started working out with him. Well, more like parallel to him.

And then came Wednesday.

To be fair, he had warned me about the horror of his Wednesday workout. I thought he was lying. Or maybe exaggerating, just a little (or a lot). He wasn't.

After doing far too many lunges and squats, my legs still haven't recovered. And I've gone out and bought the book that's the female version of his program. Because I don't want to have thighs as big around as my waist. And if I had to endure one more Wednesday workout on his program -- I'd either be dead because I'd cut off my own legs to alleviate the pain or my kids would starve to death because I wouldn't be able to get out of bed.

I'll be writing again soon. Hopefully.

That is, if I'm not dead from trying to get healthier.

Happy Birthday Butterball!!

My baby. My last, sweet, little baby girl is turning one today. Has it already been a year since I was so miserable with pregnancy, unable to move without pain, grateful for the contractions that meant that you were coming? Your birth was so overwhelming that for days, I mistakenly thought you were born on the 28th -- and your Daddy won't let me forget it. But it was so worth it. The past year has been amazing.

My fat little cherub has already blossomed into a bossy, sassy little "monkey" girl. No longer the butterball that she once was. I can't believe how fast the time has gone. She is almost completely weaned, now. Walking, talking a bit. She loves to torture her brother, but mostly they play wonderfully together. Chasing each other around the house, erupting into giggles and squeals. Bath time is her favorite. She comes running to the bathroom anytime she hears the tub going. She knows what she wants, and she can pretty much tell you what it is these days. She's persistent and stubborn. She definitely doesn't like to be told "no." She likes to pretend that she doesn't hear the word half the time. If she hears if often enough, she'll rebel by letting out a rebel war cry, going for the forbidden fun that she's so unfairly being denied.

Her hair is growing in, fine and wavy. She's got the longest lashes I've ever seen (on a girl), and blue-grey eyes. The best part of my day these days is going into her room in the morning, seeing her smiling face standing in her crib waiting for me to get her. Then, when I pick her up, she wraps her arms around my neck, squeezes as hard as she can and gets her fingers all tangled in my hair. Most of the time I don't even mind that she's wiping her snotty nose on my shoulder.

The scowls she gives everyone make me laugh. I don't think anyone escapes the furrowed brow and squinty-eyed once over when they meet her. If she recognizes you, she might skip the scowl, and instead point at you as if to say "HEY! I KNOW YOU! COME HERE AND DO MY BIDDING!" And if you're lucky, you'll get the "AAAAAAHH!!" grunt that actually means she expects you to do her bidding.

I love it when she says "ooooOOOOOO" when she sees something she loves. Namely, bananas, or any kind of sweet treat that she's about to be spoiled with.

We are going to miss the baby that's turned into a toddler who is falling in love with ride-on toys, playing in the mud and wrestling like a big kid. We love you Butterball. Don't grow up too fast.