our mornings.

I love my mornings with my boy. After cuddling for a little while, we usually shake off sleep, put on the nearest clothing and step outside. It's still warm here in the afternoons, but the mornings here are chilly and quiet. Two days ago, we woke to fog filled air. Henry kept exclaiming, "WOW!" as we walked around. He danced in the fog, rolled in the dirt and told me about the noises he heard in the woods.

More and more my little baby is becoming the most fascinating kid. He is enthralled with nature, captured by it. I couldn't wish anything more perfect. We are so lucky to live here, to have so much space to explore and see.

Fall is different here. The leaves aren't all changing and we don't need our scarves just yet, but it has the same effect: magic.

the end of an era.

This is the only picture I have of me breast feeding Hendo. The lighting is awful, and I'm so sad I don't have any others. Henry was 2 weeks old. We were still figuring it all out, struggling to get him to latch properly. It took us a while, but we became pros.

Henry has been weaned for a week now. He hasn't asked to nurse at all. It's as if he's forgotten he was glued to my body for the past two years. I fed Henry on demand for two years. It was my goal to breast feed till Hen was 18 months. We blew past that goal, and my new goal became to let Henry wean himself.

I got a lot of flack from people about it. Essentially, just people constantly asking when I was going to wean him. "I'm not." I would say. The closer we got to the two year mark, the more annoying it got. Then, I did start to doubt myself and my decisions. I mean, what if my son slept with us, breast fed and took a pacifier the rest of my life!? Was I making some kind of mistake?

As if he read my fears, Henry started breast feeding less and less. He would latch on for comfort, but wouldn't really drink anything. My body quickly responded, and I stopped producing. For the last week of breast feeding, he would latch on at night for about 30 seconds to each breast and tell me, "All Gone, Mama!"

The weaning process was seamless for us. Henry made the transition himself, and I couldn't have dreamed of a more perfect ending. The only thing I did was apply the "don't offer and don't refuse" principal. Hendrix is now sleeping comfortably through the night (the first time in 2 years-- I know!), and he now rolls over to cuddle up with his blanket to go to sleep (instead of my chest). We're going to be transitioning him to his own bed in the coming months (we've tried many times in the past, but it hasn't been the right time). I'm shocked at how quickly and effortlessly this all happened. Henry seems like he aged overnight. I'm so proud of my little buddy. He's really not a baby anymore.

Breast feeding Henry was magic. I will miss the close bond that the breast feeding relationship gave us. I will miss providing for him in such an intimate way. But, watching Henry become such an independent and wonderful human being is just as rewarding. I can't believe it, but it truly does keep getting better.