West Covina CA USA
From: NEW BEGINNINGS, Vol. 20 No. 3, May-June 2003, p. 99
I had just finished nursing six-month-old Cecilia. It was one of those long, drawn-out nursing sessions where she was fighting sleep. Eventually, she succumbed to the urge and started counting sheep. I gingerly eased her into the bouncy seat and settled back on the couch to watch a little television.
Two-year-old Abigail came up to the couch, climbed in my lap and stated her simple request, "Nin-nin."
Feeling a little touched-out, I patted her back and said, "You can nurse after lunch, Honey."
Appearing satisfied with that answer, she asked, "Baby Beh?"
"Yes, you can go get your Baby Bear."
She toddled off, and I heard her rummaging through the bins in our living room play area. She came back with Baby Bear and climbed back up on the couch. She sat there by my feet for a few seconds, watching the television. Then, she looked over her shoulder at me and said, "Beh nin-nin?"
"Go ahead and nurse your bear."
She lifted her shirt and settled into that far-away-peaceful expression that often takes over a mother's face while nursing. A minute or two later, she handed Baby Bear to me, stating, "Nin-nin beh."
"You want me to nurse the bear?"
"Okay," I said, as I settled Baby Bear in my arms.
"No, ert uh," she insisted as she took the bear from me. Sighing, I lifted my shirt. But evidently that wasn't good enough. She pointed at my bra and grunted.
"You want me to open my bra too?"
So I opened the nursing flap on my bra and reached for the bear again. My tricky two-year-old took the opportunity to dive in and latch herself on while tossing poor Baby Bear over her shoulder. I'm still giggling over the way she planned it out.