By Erika Clevenger

My oldest son, Marshall, was adjusting rather well to his new baby brother.
At 4 years old, he had a good grasp on what was going on with the crying, and diapering.
After a few simple nursing questions about what I was doing with "his" baby, he
seemed reasonably satisfied.
I had breastfed Marshall and assured him that he had gotten exactly what his brother was
currently getting.
One night shortly after our big homecoming, I went into Marshall's room to say goodnight. Imagine my
surprise to see my darling 4 year old "breastfeeding" and singing to his favorite stuffed elephant, Macy.
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