Ch-ch-ch-changes....

So, I'm not going to blab forever on this one and I'm definitely not posting pictures.  You'll thank me when you're done reading.

Jett is now 14 months old and he's finally decided he's ready to enter the world of walking.  Yes, he took his sweet time.  Who wouldn't with a family of servants to cater to your every grunt and cry?  All he had to do was make a sad face, pop a tear (which he can do in an instant!), and point his little chubby arms skyward, and some poor sap walking by would pick him up.  We all fell victim to it.

Unfortunately for him, we've all woken up now and we're excited for him to take this "new step" into people-hood.  It's really cute to see him stand up, look around for an audience, and then take a step forward.  That I will get on video to show you just how cute it is.  He's so adorable!  And fat!  My first real fat baby.  And my last.  Haha.

Ok, with the cuteness comes the feelings of guilt.  Why am I so guilty all the time?  What's my problem?  Does anyone else have this much guilt for random, weird things?  Moving on...so I've decided to quit nursing.  (Insert guilt here.)  I know, I know.  You're all thinking, "Gee.  Already?  He's only in 10th grade!  How will he make Varsity!!!??  (GASP!)"

But seriously, I have guilt because I was young and retarded with Hailey and Haiden and didn't know what I was doing so I stopped nursing both of them by 2 months.  Then there's the guilt with Ethan because I was working and only went until 8 months.  (Damn.  No wonder my L shoulder always hurts.  That's a huge burden to carry around 24/7.)  (P.S.- stop saying "guilt".  It's irritating me.)

It's like I have one last shot at making it the best, and now I have to make up for the other 3 who didn't nurse for a whole year.  If that's the case, and if my calculations are correct, (I never have been good at math), that means Jett would be nursing until he's 3; or 30 whichever age was easier to wean.  Really though, I think we're done.  He hasn't nursed for 2 days, even though the early morning hours are tough to fight.  And lets be real, no one wants to try to pump a dry well.  OUCH!  He seems to be doing ok.  Maybe that's because he's trying to focus on studying for the SAT's, I don't know.

He's pretty darn cute about it.  He'll make the sign for "milk" and then smile very sweetly.  I think he's transitioning into "manhood" just fine.  When I don't respond to his attempts, he shoves a hand down the front of my shirt and opts for the quick cleavage check, making sure I'm not turning him down because they're gone.  This brings a huge smile to his face and all is right in his little world again.

I think he's handling it better than me.  So, it's official.  I'm no longer a Dairy Cow.  Hallelujah!  Time to go to Vickie's Secret to give these girls a well deserved face "lift".  Ya done good, girls.  Ya did good.