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Until recently, I have felt like some kind of freakazoid, because I have this cute little baby-person, who walks, talks and still consumes fluid from my bosoms.  I nursed Sugar until she was 16 months old and Spider is near that age now.  But the difference was, at this age, Sugar was like a once a day nurser.  Spider, hmmm, not so much.  Spider is a nurse-a-holic.

And the other difference was that Sugar was able to keep our little "secret."  Spider does not have those kinds of inhibitions.  At very publich functions (with men, present, men I tell you) sweet little Spider will sit on my lap and then fuss and cup her little hands underneath the "beverage dispensers".  (I am trying to use euphemisms, to not attract creepos to the blog, give me a break.)  Yep, it’s an embarassing little gro*pe-fest and it becomes clear to all around that the baby is not weaned.

But the funny thing that I have found is that when she does this, other members of the "club" come crawling out of the woodwork.  "Oh, yeah, I nursed my baby until she was 2."  You?  But you are so normal and put together and… "She wants to nurse?  Oh, I am still nursing my 18 month old."  Really?

So as embarassing as Spider’s little habit is, it is kind of a good thing.  I have learned that I am not the only one to ever have breastfed a toddler.  I feel more normal.  I feel like I am still not going to announce the fact to the world, (except of course for this here internet) but that if ever one did find out, it would be okay.

Eventually.

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