She has a pile of babies in a wagon in our front room. Yesterday, I was lying on the couch, while she stood and played with her babies. I hadn’t buttoned her onesie, and she lifted it from one end, up over her chest, to reveal bee-sting baby toddler nipples. She took her bald baby doll, . . . → Read More: Beannut, the Nursing Toddler
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The Beannut wants to share the love. Now, when she sees anything that has something resembling a mouth she cavebaby-speaks and wants me to nurse it–a character on a box of teething biscuits, a puppet on TV, an image of a baby on the laptop monitor, a photo text from her baby cousin. Her dolls, her . . . → Read More: Got Milk? She just has a kale-smoothie mustache. Today, the Beannut and I were just hangin. Now that I’m working more and have a sitter and the BeanPa helping as well as the GrandBeanMa, I have a lot more time to myself. I’m a heck-of-a-lot saner by far. But that means more separation. It saddens me, but mothering (especially . . . → Read More: My Child Does Not Have The Plague (Part I is here) … and at first it felt something like denial or escape. Or a little bit of insanity. Of course it mostly felt like some serious martyrdom. “I’m not going to let THAT GUY bully me around while I sit here and soften. I mean, this is a little pacificistic, don’t you . . . → Read More: My Funny Valentine Gets Even … Funnier (Part II) Last year, I dressed up the Beannut as cupid while the beanpa was stuck in a hotel during a massive snowstorm and couldn’t get home. We made footprints for him out of salt dough. The year before that, the Beanpa was super sick and I was pretty pregnant, and I wouldn’t let him near me. So . . . → Read More: My Funny Valentine Yeah, this isn’t a usual post for me. I’m not doing book reviews here; still just planning to write about my adventures as mom to a child named beannut. But I’m reading Claire Dederer’s book, Poser: My Life in 23 Yoga Poses right now and so I thought I’d pass it along–this book KICKS FIRM YOGINI . . . → Read More: Claire Dederer Kicks Some Firm Yogini Butt! A friend came by today who I haven’t seen in a while. Her adorable son is one month older than the Bean, and the two of them cooked together on the Bean’s Melissa and Doug pots and pan set while my friend and I caught up. She wants another baby. “I just see pregnant women and I…” . . . → Read More: Like Christmas Every Day “Wouldn’t it be great if they could inject your breasts so like your milk would come out flavored… chocolate, vanilla, . . . → Read More: BeanPa Says… At night, she loves to sit with him in the rocking chair. She even nurses him on my breasts – first the left, then the right. She snuggles, him, hugs him, kisses him, and offers her paci. We call him fuzzy… fuzz for short. He’s been with her from the beginning. And then one day, just like that, . . . → Read More: Loveys: The Good, The Bad, And the Ugly My mother bought us this beautiful crib when Olivia was six months old — the age I decided was appropriate for her to start sleeping in a crib. Apparently, she had other plans… The crib took on many formations… none of which she slept in (sidecarred to our bed, converted to a toddler bed, in our . . . → Read More: The Crib Stands Alone |
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