We spent the weekend in the mountains with our church family, and it was a nice time of retreat. Josiah slept until 8:15am, which was a retreat in and of itself. The only problem was that he doesn't sleep very well away from home and ended up in bed with us all night. This time last year I loved sleeping with my sweet small baby, but now he is too big to curl around and flops around all night. Often it makes the night very sleepless for me and not quite so pleasurable. He has long since been weaned of any night time feeding, but at some point he woke up and tugged on my shirt for "na-na." Dazed, I surrendered. What I surmise was two hours later (4am), I woke up with him still nibbling on my chest and my tender parts crying for mercy. I took him off and told him "no more na-na. Na-na is closed." He whined and sat up. He would say, "Mama? Mama? na-na!" and pat my chest. I would stubbornly reply, "no!" and proceeded to lay with my belly down, cradling my abused chest. He would then scream in frustration and flail his arms before saying again, "Mama? Mama? na-na!" This went on for a good 10 minutes. I really didn't care that he was making all kinds of ruckus. Jonathan finally woke up in the middle of our battle and said, "Well, I can see that this is a problem, because he isn't going to back to sleep without it." I knew he was right, but I was trying to pretend otherwise. I finally, reluctantly gave up my other breast, still cradling the right one tenderly. When I woke up in the morning I felt like I did when he was first learning to suckle. I looked down and was surprised to find a small blister at the peak of the pain. OUCH! Two days later, I am still protecting my poor right breast from further trauma. I am also extremely grateful to be home where he sleeps really well in his crib all night. Despite all of that, it was a nice time of relaxation.
The stage in the worship room had two stairs, and Josiah took the liberty to join the band as desired. He is very into playing the djembe (a drum), and so he would walk up to the drum players and join them on the opposing side of the drum. He would dance as he moved around the stage between musicians. The climax was when he found the sticks for the bells and despite being shorter than the bell stand, managed to fling the stick up and hit some keys as he thought appropriate. I am very glad that our church is small, patient, and finds him endearing. Otherwise, it would have been a problem.
a similar example of his confidence (or innocence, whichever it may be):
Two weeks ago we took dinner to our friends with the new baby. We stayed while they enjoyed dinner. The new grandma sat down with her plate of food and Josiah walked up, looked up at her, and took some macaroni and cheese right off of her plate. I was startled by his boldness and perfusely apologized, as I had never met her before then. She reassured me it was okay. I am glad it was, because he did it several more times despite the fact I fixed him a small plate of his own. Last night at the retreat I watched him do the same thing to another friend. She was sitting with a plate of chips and he walked right up to her, looked her straight in the eye, and took a chip off of her plate. I thought it was ridiculous and hilarious. Jonathan and I discussed the event on the way home and how we feel like we should handle that situation, and for now we just think it is funny. As his comprehension grows, though, there are obviously some manners lessons that need to be breached. At least he says thank you. haha.
Last night I put my nose down into Josiah's hair and it smelled exactly as he smelled like a newborn baby. I could not imagine that smell if asked to, but it is distinct and a little musty. It is an intoxicating smell, and I buried my nose in his hair and breathed it in over and over. I was grateful to experience it again. I am not sure when it disappeared, but I know it has been quite a while since he smelled that way. A gift from the Lord, I suppose, to get to smell it again.
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