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Mine

November 22, 2013

It’s happened … Hope has become a seagull from Finding Nemo …

apart from No, and ‘orsey, her favourite and most frequently used word at the moment is, “Mine”.

She picked it up from one of her small friends and has obviously become more aware as well of her sense of self and refers to herself constantly … but it’s the very firm and decisive, “mine” that stands out.

“Hopey, can I have my socks please?” “Mine”

“shall we share the broccoli?”(that you haven’t been eating any of) “Mine”

“let Lydia play with the cups and saucers” “Mine”

“shall we put your toothbrush back on the shelf next to mine” “Mine”

“could you take a book over to Granby so you can read together” “Mine” … and so it goes on!!!

She had a total paddy the other day because one of her little friends turned up at playgroup in the same pair of wellies that Hope has … “mine mine mine”.

This morning however it really came home to me how much it matters to her at the moment to have her own things; she’d had a bit of a restless night, still getting over the head bump I think, and she’d been having alot of milky. Breastfeeding is one of my unexpectedly favourite aspects of being a mother, and having become accustomed to night time nursing, I really love it now, the peace, the intimacy, the warmth, the love I feel … but when it’s been a long night and she’s suckling for comfort or out of habit and has been for a long time she starts to drift off, she rolls away but keeps a firm and sometimes toothy grasp on her feeding station. My nipple gets tugged about and it starts to hurt a little, also she leans her arm out and holds onto the other side and her sharp pointy little fingers can dig in and scratch around the free nipple area which really is horribly uncomfortable at times. This morning was one of those times.

I gently moved her hand away and put my own hand over my left breast to stop the enquiring fingers starting their scratchy exploration again while she was sleep feeding on the right side. Without taking a breath, she pushed my hand away very forcibly, looked up and said, very firmly, “Mine. Mine milky. Mine”.

Which put me firmly in my place … milk dispenser to her majesty!!

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