DISCLAIMER: ACCORDING TO BONEHEAD'S REVIEW OF MY POST, THIS IS A "TMI" POST. IF YOU ARE A MALE READER, YOU MAY WANT TO CONSIDER SKIPPING TODAY'S POST AND RETURNING FOR A VISIT IN THE FUTURE. OR IF YOU'RE ANYTHING LIKE MY BELOVED BONEHEAD, YOU'LL READ ANYWAY NOW THAT YOU'VE BEEN TOLD NOT TO.
It's hard to believe Critter's first birthday is less than 2 weeks away. When I look at Smooch in all his 7 year old glory, I see how fast the time goes, but now that I am facing Critter's inevitable growth into toddler-dom I realize it's not supposed to go quite THAT fast. It seems like just yesterday I was begging for a full night's sleep. And really, now that I think of it, last month isn't that far removed from yesterday.
He's reached some very important milestones on his journey to the big zero-one. He's sleeping through the night now, granted he's up at 5 freeking thirty every morning, but I am eternally grateful that it is indeed technically considered morning. He has three teeth, and his hair is almost long enough for his first haircut. To be realistic, this mom is probably going to attempt to keep her baby a baby long enough for him to look a bit like a girl before caving into that first haircut.
He's my last. I'm going down kicking and screaming when this one tries to grow up on me. I enjoy watching him roll around on my livingroom floor and growl at his toys. I find it endearing that he still tries to pick everything up with his feet. I could watch him plow his face across the carpet with his butt in the air all day long, and I never ever get tired of his chatter which doesn't have any words but contains immesurable meaning.
Although I am trying desperately to treasure every moment of my baby being a baby, we reached a milestone yesterday that I have been anxiously awaiting. The "I'm almost not nursing anymore" milestone.
Let me begin by sharing that this child has been biting me since the hospital. And he's always been unpredictable about it. He'll be all nice and sweet and snuggly until you are least expecting it then CHOMP. Believe me I have been firm with the boy. I may be an all around push over, but there are certain areas of my life where I have a zero tolerance policy. Biting and whining just happen to be two of those areas. And although he hasn't felt the need to gnaw on his buffet table lately, I'm pretty sure he's just waiting for the perfect moment to leave a lasting impression.
Needles to say, I am highly motivated to have this boy weened by the time he celebrates his first birthday on Valentine's Day. With Valentine's Day just under two weeks away, I'm on the ball. As of yesterday morning I dropped the daily feedings down to one per day. I gave him a bottle when he woke up in place of his morning feeding from mom.
And then I Google Chatted with Bonehead that the ungrateful little dude didn't even miss me. So Bonehead planted the seed of "then give him a bottle tonight too, and you'll be done." Now, to give Bonehead due credit, he does not own the equipment (which ironically was the very same excuse I gave when it was time to potty train Smooch-That's YOUR job, honey. I don't own that equipment.) so I tried to explain that it wasn't quite that simple. I explained that due to supply and demand, a mother needs to slowly lower the number of feedings until her body has had adequate enough warning to stop. But I did tell him that I'd play it by ear and see how I was feeling when it came time for the evening feeding.
And at 7pm, when it was bedtime for the toothy little Critter, I felt good so he got a full bottle instead. By 9pm I was beginning to feel the error of my mistake but I figured all would be fine.
I had a fitful night of dreaming about cannonballs being strapped to my chest. And did you know diapers these days can EXPLODE? I guess giving the kid 8 ounces of milk just before bed wasn't the best executive decision I've made recently. There were these little silicone beads everywhere. So I cleaned up the baby, and trotted him off to wake up his brother. They like to hang out in bed together for a minute in the mornings to play, so I used that time to clean up the bed. This included removing the mattress and propping it over the top of the crib for easy changing accessibility. As I was changing the sheet, the darn thing somehow snapped me in the 'cannonball' and made me drop the mattress onto the top of the crib, creating a ripple of "boing, boing, boing" (again) right in the 'cannonball'.
When the tears faded, I promptly went and picked up Critter and nursed him like there was no tomorrow. And after making a pot of coffee without putting any coffee in the filter, I am calling a 'do over' on my day.
After facing cannonballs, urine soaked silicone diaper confetti, and a 30 minute wait for coffee, I feel strangely entitled.
It's hard to believe Critter's first birthday is less than 2 weeks away. When I look at Smooch in all his 7 year old glory, I see how fast the time goes, but now that I am facing Critter's inevitable growth into toddler-dom I realize it's not supposed to go quite THAT fast. It seems like just yesterday I was begging for a full night's sleep. And really, now that I think of it, last month isn't that far removed from yesterday.
He's reached some very important milestones on his journey to the big zero-one. He's sleeping through the night now, granted he's up at 5 freeking thirty every morning, but I am eternally grateful that it is indeed technically considered morning. He has three teeth, and his hair is almost long enough for his first haircut. To be realistic, this mom is probably going to attempt to keep her baby a baby long enough for him to look a bit like a girl before caving into that first haircut.
He's my last. I'm going down kicking and screaming when this one tries to grow up on me. I enjoy watching him roll around on my livingroom floor and growl at his toys. I find it endearing that he still tries to pick everything up with his feet. I could watch him plow his face across the carpet with his butt in the air all day long, and I never ever get tired of his chatter which doesn't have any words but contains immesurable meaning.
Although I am trying desperately to treasure every moment of my baby being a baby, we reached a milestone yesterday that I have been anxiously awaiting. The "I'm almost not nursing anymore" milestone.
Let me begin by sharing that this child has been biting me since the hospital. And he's always been unpredictable about it. He'll be all nice and sweet and snuggly until you are least expecting it then CHOMP. Believe me I have been firm with the boy. I may be an all around push over, but there are certain areas of my life where I have a zero tolerance policy. Biting and whining just happen to be two of those areas. And although he hasn't felt the need to gnaw on his buffet table lately, I'm pretty sure he's just waiting for the perfect moment to leave a lasting impression.
Needles to say, I am highly motivated to have this boy weened by the time he celebrates his first birthday on Valentine's Day. With Valentine's Day just under two weeks away, I'm on the ball. As of yesterday morning I dropped the daily feedings down to one per day. I gave him a bottle when he woke up in place of his morning feeding from mom.
And then I Google Chatted with Bonehead that the ungrateful little dude didn't even miss me. So Bonehead planted the seed of "then give him a bottle tonight too, and you'll be done." Now, to give Bonehead due credit, he does not own the equipment (which ironically was the very same excuse I gave when it was time to potty train Smooch-That's YOUR job, honey. I don't own that equipment.) so I tried to explain that it wasn't quite that simple. I explained that due to supply and demand, a mother needs to slowly lower the number of feedings until her body has had adequate enough warning to stop. But I did tell him that I'd play it by ear and see how I was feeling when it came time for the evening feeding.
And at 7pm, when it was bedtime for the toothy little Critter, I felt good so he got a full bottle instead. By 9pm I was beginning to feel the error of my mistake but I figured all would be fine.
I had a fitful night of dreaming about cannonballs being strapped to my chest. And did you know diapers these days can EXPLODE? I guess giving the kid 8 ounces of milk just before bed wasn't the best executive decision I've made recently. There were these little silicone beads everywhere. So I cleaned up the baby, and trotted him off to wake up his brother. They like to hang out in bed together for a minute in the mornings to play, so I used that time to clean up the bed. This included removing the mattress and propping it over the top of the crib for easy changing accessibility. As I was changing the sheet, the darn thing somehow snapped me in the 'cannonball' and made me drop the mattress onto the top of the crib, creating a ripple of "boing, boing, boing" (again) right in the 'cannonball'.
When the tears faded, I promptly went and picked up Critter and nursed him like there was no tomorrow. And after making a pot of coffee without putting any coffee in the filter, I am calling a 'do over' on my day.
After facing cannonballs, urine soaked silicone diaper confetti, and a 30 minute wait for coffee, I feel strangely entitled.
3 comments:
I'm not sure I ever dealth with an exploding diaper, but I do know of what you speak!
Sounds like the weening is definitely going to go off well, though, once you're entirely ready. You've truly got to get the girls in on the game plan, too, don't you? :)
Also, the other night, after my baby turned seven, I might have been on the couch crying quietly after he'd gone to bed because that? That was blink-of-the-eye time right there.
Hope you at least got a nap to try and change the day!
Love
Mom
Bless you little heart....I was never able to nurse my children. I didn't even have milk w/ the first two! I have several friends who had a very difficult time weening the "baby". I do hope today goes much better!!!
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