The Cranberries are playing in the background. They have resurfaced as a current favorite for the time being. Max is asleep for the next few moments. He turns 7 months tomorrow and I've realized that nothing makes the passage of time more evident than watching an infant in their first year of life. I remember feeling him move for the very first time last year on Thanksgiving day. I was 17 weeks along. Now, he lies asleep, full of dirt from trying to eat grass earlier this morning. He has come into his personality.

My days are routine and usually predictable. Some friends can't comprehend how I can do this and not go crazy. I am slowly gaining boldness in my ideals as Max gets older. I think there is a reason our bodies work the way they do and produce milk. We are meant to feed our babies exclusively. If the milk supply wanes, then more time must be spent with the infant. We are meant to respond to our baby's cries. Babies are not trying to manipulate us. After spending nine months growing and developing in the womb why wouldn't they cry when they are momentarily separated from their mother? I think people try to take on too many roles these days. And I while I am still trying to see what this whole motherhood thing encompasses and who I am within that realm, I'm in no rush to come up with some clear cut idea. There are things I still want to do 'alone' and goals I'd like to accomplish. This time with my little one is so short however and I want to be fully present for every moment of it. So I'll continue to breastfeed Max when he wants as long as he wants, Fuser and I will continue to share our bed with him (though I some nights I long to spread out and move around just a bit more), and he'll continue taking presidence over much of life. I don't want to be looking back back in 5, 10, 20 years and longing to be in this moment regretting missed time. I want to enjoy it in the present and move on through the stages of life as they come.