Slowly and quickly, we have stopped keeping track of Big Sister's age in terms of weeks and months and we are now decidedly keeping track by the full year count. Three. I never get tired of saying "It's hard to believe." Because it is. Somewhere along the way, between 24 months and 36 months, after coming up for air after the grand entrance of Baby Genius into our lives, I realized we had been keeping track of so many "firsts" that the "lasts" had been quietly fading into the past. When did we switch from counting months to counting years? I cannot say.
So I've been trying to capture, using my mental camera, my real camera, and my periodic journaling, the "lasts". One of the most painful for me is that somewhere between the summer of 2010 and the advent of spring 2011, Big Sister gained the ability to say the "f" sound, so what once were "clip clops" are now "flip flops" (or close enough anyway). I really liked "clip clops" so I reserve the right to still call them that! Every time she says 'flip flops' I'm reminded of the passage of time... like sands between my toes when I'm wearing my clip clops. :)
Baby Genius has had many recent notable and noticeable lasts. I missed documenting the exact date, but we put away the Johnny Jump Up a few months ago, and the Activity Table. He is too thrilled with running and moving to be deterred by such stationary or restrictive devices! Almost as soon as his grandparents bought him his first pair of Big Boy Size 4 shoes, he outgrew them. Those are the worst. When the 'last' butts up too close to the 'first." Those are hard on the heart.
Perhaps the biggest "last" lately has been the end of breastfeeding. That happened on Saturday, June 18, almost 3 weeks ago. I made a conscious decision to always remember it. I came home after a 2-day trip and tried to nurse him to comfort him and he bit me! That bite told me, "Mom, this has been dwindling for a while. I drink milk just fine! I don't need you to do this any more for me." (Also he was really gassy!)
This 'last' signified freedom for me, and greater independence for him. So far we are both the better for it! I can wear pretty (smaller!) bras, and not feel like there's an invisible chain he can pull to make me do his bidding! He seems a little more relaxed; I think the need to nurse sometimes made him anxious and uncomfortable.
I know one day I will be sad remembering the days when all my kids needed was a fresh diaper and some food that only I could provide. There may even be a day when I wish I had another baby to hold and cuddle and nurse. But those will be fleeting, and I will be able to return to the here-and-now and relish in being able to have my body be my own! At last!