a light.

I was not even awake to enjoy this momentous occasion that occurred last night. 

zilla went to sleep without nursing, in his bed, and did not wake up until morning.

I fell asleep while putting bean to sleep.  when my husband came to bed, it was too quiet.  usually he is calling/crying/whining for me.  I didn't hear anything. 

"is he asleep?"  I asked.

"yep."  my husband whispered.  "he just looked really tired and he fell asleep on the couch."

"did he call for me?"

"nope.  not really."

"mhm."

I had been looking forward to this day for... at least a year.  as my friend's children began to self wean themselves at two and a half.  I was pregnant and I wanted for him to wean.  maybe my milk drying up would do it.  nope.  he wailed for milk.  a month went by, another child of a friend of mine self weaned, but not my kid.  another month passed.  Tandem nursing loomed in front of me.  when zilla was two and eight months old, bean was born.  my milk came in and he was even MORE insistent on nursing.  with the emotional roller coaster that ensued, I hated nursing him, then I loved to nurse him. I wanted it to be over, then I wanted it to continue. there was a lot of tears, screaming, yelling.  There was a lot of , love, cuddling, and bedsharing.  through all that, one thought that loomed over my head constantly was 'when will this be over??'.

yet here I am feeling sad.

my zilla is growing up.