Nursing a Four Month Old

I sat down with my cup of coffee and sliver of pumpkin pie, ready to enjoy a slow, quiet start to my morning when I heard the baby crying and stirring.

”All is not lost!” I touted, as I carried my things to the bedroom. After a diaper change, clean clothes and a little time on a fuzzy blanket, it was clear that this boy expected some breakfast, so we settled into the nursing chair and I began to sip on my coffee and he began to eat.

This is when I realized that I am nursing a 4 month old! His hands are flailing, his arm swinging out to strike anything and everything it can. He eyes me with one eye, smiling when he makes contact with the mug, jarring it into my teeth. Even after the coffee is safely set aside, he continues to play, reaching for my face but failing to inflict harm there.

I’m remembering why 4 months is a delightful age of wonder and discovery, but also a rather terrifying age to nurse.