It all happened easily (for Babygirl). One night when I unlatched her from my nipple she fussed a bit and when I rubbed her back she went quiet and fell asleep. That was a month ago. It hasn't always happened so quickly. Sometimes she needs a cracker first, or a back rub and always a snuggle. For me it isn't so easy to fall asleep again and I am frequently overtired. When a baby is ready to wean they may or may not wean themselves but with a little encouragement and redirection it will come easily. I'm thankful for rice crackers they don't leave crumbs in the bed.
I laid down with my daughter for bed and was quite tired when I heard what sounded like an owl on the other side of the glass. Feeling concerned for the safety of my sleeping feathered friends in the eaves I shined the bright beam of the flashlight at the tree on the other side of the window. That's when I realized the sound was coming from BabyGirl's sippy cup....later in the night I did hear the owl....far away..in the morning the leaves were falling. Babygirl is learning new words like firewood. I've decided all I want for Christmas is a 3 lb ax. When I take a break from splitting firewood I've done some burning. I love the popping and hissing of leaves and needles. I like the cool air that's turned green leaves gold and the blazing heat that's like a hot summer day on my bare arms. Poking a fire is sheer delight.
I see brokenness in the sea glass, bits of shells, and clay shards washed upon the beach. It's the broken tops of trees anchored to the island and mountain tops on the horizon. It's the wind torn sea as waves break upon the shore. Like the blanket of fog I wrap the quilt of solitude around me and ask is the gift of brokenness tenderness? Is it strength like mountains and breaking waves and the beauty of sunlight on sea glass? What else could be the purpose of loss, heartbreak and sorrow?