Adventures in nursing

It's official! She's a toddler.

Nursing has become an olympic event, involving spins, kicks and even.... sound effects. Ahhh, the drama, the power, the excitement, that is nursing a toddler!

She has discovered that my shirt can be lifted, pulled down and generally torn at untill those sweet warm milk jugs appear, wherein she nurse for about 3 seconds and then turns away distracted by her cousins playing across the room, her Papa coughing in the next room, a car passing on the road, the dog licking it's butt.... you name it.

I am left holding my breast in my hand like an offering to the gods, my nipple gleaming in the sunlight, wet with mama's milk. I click my tounge at her trying to regain her attention, she stares vacantly at whatever sight has so engrossed her in the first place. I gently tap her on the cheek and call her name, she continues to stare off into the distance.

Finally I sigh and pull my shirt down over my exposed breast. Like magic she turns to me, mouth open expecting the breast to be waiting patiently for her to return. A shocked expression crosses her face and she begins tearing at my shirt again, lifting from the bottom in a bizzare game of hide and seek.

Resignedly, I offer up my body once again while pinning her more securely in place. She wiggles and squirms her way out of my grip and proceeds to do leg squats, twists and kicks in her own personal little ballet, while remaining face down against my breast. As her feet fly past my ear, I smile to myself.

My once tiny helpless infant has become so active and energetic that even the sweet fount of mama's milk no longer holds it's captivating power any longer. I remember holding a tiny fragile little person to my breast struggling to connect mouth with nipple, watching tiny little fingers move against my skin, tiny little scrabbling movements accompanied by the sound of her tiny gulping swallows....

A resounding raspberry startles me from my reverie, Mielle has her face pressed into the flesh of my breast and is blowing OUT. The resulting fart-like noise is quite impressive, and nearly musical to hear. Wiggling in place, she sends forth another depth charge. "FFFLLLBBbtttt!" My breast shakes as though it were made of jello, surprising a great laugh out of me. Mielle's face pops up and off the breast as though reminded of my existence by the sound of my laugh. She grins up at me and we laugh together.

She definitely has MY sense of humor!