Goodbye, Milky Way Lady. Goodbye.

49 posts later and more hours than I can count spent with my shirt up by my chin, the Milky Way has finally come to an end.

While I have mixed feelings about the entire 18-month breastfeeding experience, I'm glad I did it.
Through breastfeeding, I created this incredible bond with my baby and demolished any chance I may ever have for a good rack.

You take the good with the bad, I guess.

When something huge happens, you never realize at the time that it's huge. It just happens.
I didn't set a date for C to stop nursing, he just did. One day he did and the next he didn't.
He and I were both getting tired of it.
When he would nurse, he squirmed around more than anything and I waited until I could distract him long enough to put my boobs up.
So one day, he tried and I said no, and that was it.
It was over.

There wasn't anything grand or traumatic about it.
It just stopped.

I think I will keep my blog though. It's fun when I get the chance to write in it and I hope people have fun reading it. Maybe I will just make a few changes and call it a day. I don't know yet.

When I spend every day typing others' stories and staring at a computer, I'm not really down with writing on my off time. Plus, when C finally goes to sleep, I'm usually not far behind.

Our little family is making big changes and, at times, it can be overwhelming. Of course the big moments, the ones that matter, are the ones we trudge through and don't think about until it's over.
Now that Connor has passed most of his milestones, I find new things to worry about:
Is he eating enough?
Is he talking enough?
Is he saying, "Shit?"
Is he going to say it at daycare?
Why doesn't he run to me when I come get him from daycare?
Am I a terrible mother for working full-time?
Would I be a terrible mother if he didn't interact with other kids?
Are we going to have more kids?

It's like I have a thousand tabs open in my brain at once and I'm not able to exit out of them.
I'm constantly worried that something isn't quite right or that even though every other kid in the world is in a front-facing car seat, Connor should still be rear-facing.
There's also this tragic realization that I'm no longer able to eat like a 5-year-old because I can't gorge on sugar without feeling like I may die.
...and my metabolism seems to be like high school friendships that suddenly stop.
At the end of the day, I simultaneously want to be alone and with my family, I want a hot shower and a relaxing bath, I want to lose 20 pounds and eat the entire package of cookies in the kitchen, I want Connor to sleep in his crib and snuggle with me in bed.
When it all comes down to it, I want time with my husband and to never lose a moment with my little boy. I want a career and I want to be the best mother possible. I want to sleep and I want to get the rest of my to-do list done. There's just no winning.
So I keep running, metaphorically speaking.
Welcome to parenthood.

Do I dare disturb the universe?

I only remember watching the news once as a child.
I was laying in the bed with my mother and we were about to go to sleep.
The 10 p.m. news was on TV and I remember watching it, really watching it and understanding it.
I remember crying and asking my mom why there were so many bad things in the world.
I remember thinking that I never wanted to watch the news again.

So here I am 20-plus years later working in the news. I write stories about great, wonderful things that make people smile.
But I also cover tragic, heartbreaking things that are beyond imaginable.

As I was drinking my second cup of coffee on my front porch, scrolling through Facebook, I got an email tipping me off as to what I would walk into today at work.
A woman held her adult child as he died from injuries sustained in a hit and run accident.

My stomach knotted up and my heart fell below it as the lady described holding her son, just as she had when he was born, as he died.

I thought of Connor asleep in his crib for his nap.
I thought of him as an adult.
He will forever be my baby.
Those first seconds of his life beginning on my stomach, then in my arms. His first gasp of breath and cry...I cried and laughed at the same time.

I thought about the first time I watched the news and how much I hated it. I thought about how I swore I would never watch it again.
I wondered why I'm in this business.

Why do I subject myself to such hurt and pain? Is there something else I can do? Is there another profession in the world that would give me joy and happiness?

And that's when I realized: If I want to leave my footprints in this world. there's nothing out there that doesn't involve hurt, pain and tears.

In those few moments of contemplation, I understood that although I can't save the world, I can't stop these terrible things happening in society, I can still help.
I can do what I have to in order for people to find comfort or closure.
I can pray for them and I can do my part to help find the bad guys.

At the end of the day, that's all anyone can do.
We have to stop sitting back and feeling sorry for people, wishing bad things wouldn't happen.
We have to offer what we have to others and hope we are doing the right thing.

Maybe if society started thinking that way, dark nights would turn into bright days.