Things that go bump in the night...

We were aroused early, early this morning by loud noises. Frightening noises. They could have been made by monsters, they were that disturbing. But alas, the awful noise was made by a sweet and beautiful baby girl, who is not happy this week. Technically, she's not a baby. That's the problem. She's 18 months old. She can climb out of her crib and up to the top bunk to where her sister is sleeping. She can bang on the door and scream at just the right pitch that it makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. She can talk. She gives hugs and kisses. She is sweet. She can be demanding and she is not use to being told, No. The reason for the mayhem this morning, and this week in general, is that I am saying "No." No more nursing. This is so hard, people. It was never this hard with the others. I know we'll get through this. But if my posts this week sound less coherent than usual, you'll know why. Good grief!