My boy is weaned. Not by his decision, which is what we wanted for him, but out of necessity. Last week, we told him that he could nurse in the mornings for a few more days, but no more nursing at night. The next morning, he didn’t even ask. Just like that, it was over. It has now been a week.
Anyone who knows M knows he is a boob man. That kid would have nursed until he was 16, “Uh, Ima? I’m about to go out. Can I top off my tank before I go?” Awkward picture, but you get the point. S and I have had MANY conversations about when to wean him or whether to wean him or let him do it himself. We had decided that three would be a good age for him to get off the sauce. He and S have been talking about it for months. We had a prize in his sights. When he stopped doing nanas, he would get batteries in his turtle night-light. Lame, I know, but he was excited.
Then we sprang it on him, one month and 25 days early. He has been kind of depressed since. He has been talking a lot about being sad about one thing or another. He has been uncooperative about little things and as he said, his face looks sad. And this, my friends, is breaking my heart.
As the non-nursing mother, I have been looking forward to the end of nursing as the great equalizer. I thought that maybe he would cuddle with me, too, if there was no lactation in the house. I thought I would be so excited. Really, I also feel sad. I feel sad that we weren’t able to give him time to adjust to the idea. I feel sad that he won’t experience that kind of closeness again in his life. I feel sad for S that a sweet, special thing is over for her, too. I feel sad that M is so sad.
I know we will all get over it eventually. Maybe the distraction of Halloween will help. Maybe not. The cold winds visiting our town certainly don’t. They make anyone want to snuggle up on another person, getting as close as possible. Tonight, when M was having a particularly down moment, I told him that sometimes, when S and I are sad, we like to get under the covers and watch t.v. in bed. So he did that, a stuffed bunny under each arm. When I asked him what he wanted for dinner, he said waffles. So, I made chocolate waffles. The waffles didn’t make him instantly happy again, but he sure liked they way they tasted. Today, I’ll take what I can get.
-Betsy
PS. Here’s a link to the recipe I used. Totally works with some peanut butter and bananas on top. Be warned: super chocolatey! Gluten Free Chocolate Waffles
Turkey Baster and a Bottle of Wine 