If you look out your window, you may see some pigs flying around

I never thought the day would come but it has.

Little Miss No Bottle and/or Pacifier For Me No Way No How has finally come around to the idea that milk does not necessarily have to come directly from its source. Funnily enough, after we got home from the beach, Will suggested that we give her a sippy cup. Let me preface this by saying that any and every attempt to introduce the sippy cup has been met with suspicion, disgust, disdain, maybe some derision, or a combination of all of the above. I tried when she was about nine months old, every week or so and then I took a break, giving it back to her to try again when she was almost 11 months old. Same result. So I just gave up and powered through with the breastfeeding, as it was her sole source of liquid and thus seemed kind of important.

Until we came home from the beach, I never gave the sippy cup or milk a second thought. But since Laura has really picked up the pace on the whole eating front here lately, it must have been the obvious thing to do. So obvious that even her four-year-old brother could see what plan of attack we needed to employ. And he was absolutely right. From the first time we gave her the sippy cup a few weeks back, she's really loved it and I've found it kind of unbelievable that she's the same girl who loathed the same cup a mere few months ago. I guess our kids really never stop surprising us, in ways both large and small.

And now. Laura still enjoys her time with me, snuggling and getting her "baby milk," but only in the mornings and evenings before bed. A part of me is proud of her, for trying something new and embracing it wholeheartedly, but a larger part of me feels a little bit bereft, like I'm hanging on to these baby days as hard as I can while they race by in a blur. If I'm honest with myself, she's starting to squirm through some of her morning and night feedings like she just wants to get through them, a little bit like a disagreeable, sullen teenager sitting through church services looking at the clock every five minutes, sitting there because she knows she has to. I like to think that she still enjoys these feedings, that if I pretend hard enough, I can feel her little body relax and watch her eyes start to close, just like in those days long before sippy cups and table food. Like I can somehow will her into staying little and needing me like she used to.

But to bring things crashing back to reality, the antibiotics from a few weeks ago have left me with YET ANOTHER case of thrush. And for the uninitiated, thrush can best be described as having your baby suck flaming glass shards from your nipples ("muscles," to Will) all while employing the worst possible latch in the world. In short, it's SO MUCH FUN.This is at least the 10th time I've had it since Laura was born (in addition to the bout of mastitis I had when she was a week old), which may sound unbelievable but I really battled it most of her first five months here. All of this to say that someday she should really consider this when she's evaluating assisted living facilities for me. (I realize reading back over this that it would appear that breastfeeding has been a horrific experience for us but, as most of you know, that's not the case at all. We've just had a few aggravations along the way.)

To change gears a bit, Will has been Mr. Affectionate here lately. He's really been into doling out copious hugs and kisses to "feel you better," as he says. And feel me better, indeed. His conversational skills have really blossomed in the last few weeks and I often find myself amazed at how sweet and sensitive he can be. (He told my mom the other day before we left for my niece Annabeth's party that she looked "prettiful for the party.")  Of course, this is also right before he drags Laura around by her feet like they're in a remedial wheelbarrow race or throws something at her when he thinks I'm not looking. But I'll take it, whatever it is. One little step at a time. We're getting there.

And now I should be getting myself to bed. We have a long day full of packing and laundry and cleaning ahead of us tomorrow and I need to be at the top of my home managing game. I'll leave you with a few pictures from this morning.

Will was reading to Laura this morning so I snuck off to get the camera. Before I could take the picture without their knowing it and without interrupting a sweet moment, they both looked up at me like I had caught them in the middle of doing something wrong. Of course, this is Will's default mode, so it's only natural.

This was his "silly picture" that he requested that I take. We went through at least five poses before he decided, for reasons known only to him, that this one was acceptable. His semi-naked body is funny to me. That and his big melon (I say this with love, especially since I also married someone with a large-ish melon of his own).

More coming soon...