Prior to having Bode, I had the goal to nurse him for six months. This was lofty given my negative experience feeding Haddie who, after three months of resisting, finally went on strike and I dried up forever. I was happy. She was much happier. And I dreaded ever doing it again.
But this time around was much different with my “boob man” Bode. For some reason, I am reluctant to admit that I have enjoyed nursing him. Though I won’t miss being constantly attached at the hip with him (or rather, boob), there is a part of me that will miss the way he grins like he’s in nursing nooky nirvana every time he dives in.
We’re taking a cruise without the kids at the end of January but that still seems so far away and I wasn’t planning to start weaning until after New Year’s. Jamie has been pressuring me lately to start now. I honestly thought it would be a breeze because Bode eagerly takes one bottle a day from Jamie prior to bedtime.
I was wrong.
My plan last week was to replace one feeding session with a bottle. Unfortunately, I discovered that though Bode is delighted to take a bottle from Daddy, accepting one from me is a completely different story.
I settled in on the couch and he geared up for his flashing session. But then came Bottle. He took it grinning, as if to say, “You’re messing with me, right?” After a few minutes, he realized holy crap…this is some sick joke and where is mama’s manna?
And then he wailed and wailed–a revolt dedicated unto every kid who’s ever had his mom’s breast unceremoniously taken from him.
I finally gave in and nursed him. The waterworks immediately turned off, his devious smile returned and he gazed at them lovingly as if to say, “Don’t ever leave me again.”
In a word: it is not going well. OK, so that’s five but who’s counting?
I informed Jamie about my failure and he started giving me tips on weaning.
“Jamie, how do you know all this?”
“I’ve been reading up on it lately.”
I don’t know about you but it was somewhat disconcerting to think my husband knows more about this than I. And it doesn’t make sense that he is pressuring me to stop doing something that could potentially save him loads of money every month in the cost of formula.
But then I discovered his memo:
Dear Bode,
I want my boobs back.
Sincerely,
Your Father
Suddenly, it’s all making sense….
I'm a Canadian-born mom of two, former Denver Post columnist, family travel writer, editor of MileHighMamas.com and 9News contributor. Expert on all things Utah, Denver, family and travel. Lover of laughter and life. Happily married to a man obsessed with growing The Great Pumpkin. 