if you listen closely you can hear my boobs talking

bug officially said goodbye to the magical elixir of breastmilk a couple weeks ago-- three years and a few months after her birth. it was a slow and gentle process, and members of my extended family and random strangers at fred meyer don't have to be appalled anymore at the site of a nursing toddler. and, to their relief, she won't be nursing when she goes to college-- my deflecting response to the interrogations of "are you ever going to stop nursing her?" geez. let the kid have her milk, dammit.

but here's some funny:

tonight, when i went upstairs to cuddle with her for a few minutes, she said, "i think i hear your boobs talking and they said they had a little more milk left in them." i didn't tell her how every few days i check to see if milk is still in there, you know, when i'm in the shower or something, because at this end of this long, loving relationship there is sort of a catastrophic "there's no turning back!" kind of realization, and there is some left that i'm holding onto a little. but i did my emotional roller coasting about this loss in months prior, in times i thought she was weaning but wasn't, and i now feel totally ready to move on.

i just said, "nope. none left." fortunately the moment was fleeting, and now we just have this bittersweet phew.