"Baby all gone!" Hazel at 13 months of herself.

Iris and Hazel turned two and a half and four and a half on the 13th and 12th of July. There's been a sea change of independence lately. Iris finished her weaning process a few weekends ago with a last offer, attempt and a complaint,
"Your breast-feed all gone Mummy,"
and a switch to thinking Sean the more desirable parent for most purposes. I haven't been posting here as much as I was because I'm going out, and Sean and I often wake up after a full night's sleep with only the cat between us in our bed. The babies are gone. Our backaches are recovering, we can expect the kids to sort out many of their disputes themselves, and they can usually pull themselves together and tell me why they're crying.

Sean and I haven't yet finished our discussion about whether to have any more children but oooh, this independence is headily addictive, and when I visit tiny Veronica I get a sharp jab of schadenfreude more than envy
"Ha ha, you have a newborn!"
After more than five years either pregnant or breastfeeding it is a pleasant change to be a host organism only to things too small to see.