Ruby and I had, except for a three or four day biting period, the best nursing relationship one could ever hope for. And this includes how easy it was to kick the habit, at about 23 months or so (was it that recently? wow!), when the time was clearly right for the both of us (with some expected pushing back and pulling along from both of us).

I'm not sure how actively Ruby remembers the nursing. She does love--still--to put her hand down my shirt. Her favorite on-the-go sleeping position (heads-up, no fail ever) is still with her head on my chest. And she loves looking at my breasts. We talk about them, how she drank milk from them and how they are beautiful and how she will have breasts one day too.

Yesterday, as we were cuddling on the couch just before Marie arrived and I had to go to work, and with Ruby touching my shirt, we had this brief conversation:

-- "Mama, I drank all the milk from your breasts?"
-- "Yes you did. You liked my milk a lot."
-- "Mama, lets go buy milk for your breasts."

When I told David about it last night, we were in the kitchen and Ruby was in my arms. He laughed, grabbed the milk out of the fridge and acted as if he was pouring the milk into my breasts. Ruby laughed and told him he had forgotten to take the top off the milk carton.