I'm feeling low and pseudo-weepy. I suppose it's because my baby is no longer a baby. Or is she? Everything is dragging me deeper into this melancholy haze. I want to curl up with my infant and nurse her and ignore the world. She's growing and so smart and sweet, and such a smart ass. She lights up when I come home each night. She nurses as soon add I pick her up in the evening, just because she missed me. I'm not ready to let that go. I hated pumping when J was a baby, but I don't hate it now. I don't want to quit in case it makes my supply drop so much that L no longer wants to nurse.
She's got two parties this weekend. I'm not ready for my baby to grow up. She's still so small and having J around to compare makes her seem younger than he did at her age.
I'm not really going anywhere with this...just getting it out of my head onto virtual paper.