I’m finally doing it.

That thing I pretty much always want and is always on my mind. Except that I never in actuality do.

Giving In, People.

What? Did you think I was talking about something else?

Really this is all thanks and in part due to J. He’s still trying to figure out where he is and what the hell he’s doing here. He wakes up looking for The BF, Murph and the cats.

He’s confused. He’s sticking close to me. Which can be translated quite simply to: The Boob.

He wants The Boob constantly. Okay, so not constantly, but it constantly had a feeling, this would be it.

The last time he nursed this much was a few months ago.

Knowing I can provide him with the comfort and emotional support he needs is wonderful {come to think of it, I don’t believe this “support” ever changes for men, does it? Just give ’em all some good boobs.}, however, it’s taking a lot out of me.

Or it could be that I’m finally stopping. Because I can.

And stopping means all that go go go has come to a screeching halt, shattering down around me. Leaving me to wonder how in the hell I get up five days a week and make it to work on time and function as a REAL adult.

Truly, People. It blows my mind.

These few days here get to be the days where I’m off. Where I can fully unwind. Lean in and give in to the silence of an open day and night that stretches ahead.

To not one, but two, naps during the day.

To indulging my sweet, perfect being of a baby and giving him all the time in the world with me.