One of the things I was most concerned about when Lucy was born was how in the world I was going to nurse a baby with a 2 (now 3) - year old running around the house. Was I supposed to hide away and let him run around the house? Did I need to cover up with a thick blanket? What was I to do?
Amanda told me that he was young enough that he wouldn't even remember, or probably even care, and I took her advice to heart, because she is pretty much always right. And Milo really asked a few times what Lucy was doing, but that was it. We've eased into a good routine where I sit in Lucy's room with the door open, and he sometimes hangs out in there, sometimes goes about his business elsewhere, and all is well.
And then yesterday happened. Milo was playing with cars on the rug as Lucy nursed, and before I knew what was happening, he was right up close to her head with a quizzical smile.
"Mommy, what is Lucy eating?" he asked.
"Milo, you know that Lucy is eating her milk." I responded.
"No, Mommy, Lucy is drinking her milk," he said, inching closer. "But what is she eating?"
Ladies and gentlemen, it's nursing tent time.
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