I feel I can say now, without jinxing things that Sweet M is officially potty learned!

There is something bittersweet about ditching the diapers. Especially when your kiddo says big kid things like “okay” to just about anything you say to him like a big kid, and grunts, “yes, man!” and then laughs hysterically when you’re trying to be serious with him. It’s a huge milestone that you cannot ignore that your baby, well, isn’t really a baby anymore.

I’ve had a lot of emotions lately over this little guy. He was a baby when we moved here. Nearly bald. Hardly speaking.

Now he’s got shiny curls and a vocabulary that would surprise me if he didn’t have two older siblings who’d done it all first.

I reluctantly gave his baby sister her first bites of food this past week, but I’m not eager to give her much or make it a habit yet. And she can blame it on Sweet M.

I was utterly not prepared for him to wean cold turkey the day she was born. I will do whatever I must in order to prevent Darling F from weaning prematurely. You certainly cannot force a child to breastfeed who does not want to, but there are reasons that age 2 is the minimum that the WHO recommends weaning and I’ve got a lot of feels because M was only 18 months old (and I don’t care what others do, these are my own self-imposed expectations).

I know I should be happy that it was on his own terms. That is was a complete non-issue. No tears. He was ready…or forced into it by his sister’s birth, I don’t know.

Miss H had zero qualms tandem nursing with Mr. B and it was kind of the most beautiful thing to witness. And I rode it out, breastfeeding Sweet M throughout my whole pregnancy, even when it was uncomfortable because I was essentially dry because I knew the beauty of the pay out of tandem nursing.

But I didn’t get it.

And maybe that makes me selfish. Being upset because I didn’t get something. But I’m rarely selfish, so I’m okay with it.

We go back and forth, back and forth, pretty much on an hourly basis whether or not having just one more sweet babe makes sense for our family, but regardless, we know Darling F must be much older because I cannot go through her weaning so early, completely unprepared.

It seems like only yesterday that my tiniest babies were Miss H and Mr.B. And now they’re these big, fun, adventurous kids who have conversations and conjure up these big ideas. And Sweet M and Darling F are the babies and all ready Sweet M is growing so big and Darling F is practically 6 months old and time just needs to stand still for one day. Or two. Because it’s all going so quickly and I just want to catch my balance and hold them all so tight and not miss a second of this chaos because it’s all so magnificent and it’s all mine.

Oy. I know it’s sappy. I do. Give me a day. I will be counting down the days until they move out, I’m sure. But for now.

For now, Sweet M has potty learned and it’s a great milestone. It makes things easier. But also. It makes him bigger.

And that’s a great thing, too. Even if it is happening so quickly.

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