DD will be a year old tomorrow. I can't believe it. Part of me is so sad that she is growing up, but also so proud of the little firecracker she has become. She doesn't nurse very much anymore. I have always, always nursed on demand, but feel like I do the "demanding" these days. She nurses upon waking up, before both naps and before bed. Sometimes I try to sneak in another session or two during the day, but she'll usually have nothing of it. She'll latch on for a second or two, pop off, and walk away. She took to solid foods so well that I had to limit her intake to keep her nursing. She eats three good sized meals with a couple snacks. She loves drinking water from her sippy cup. I get sad that she's weaning. I know she's been weaning since she took those first bites of banana, but it just makes me sad. Sad that she's turning one, sad that she isn't nursing much and, heck, even sad that she recently started STTN consistently. Things change so quickly in a year. I'm going to nurse her as long as humanly possible, but I know she'd gladly drop to just once or twice a day. She is fiercely independent, just like I was, but I'm desperately trying to hold on to my little baby. For crying out loud, I know she's only turning one, but it might as well be eighteen.