Our little monkey just came in clapping and cheering for himself.
“Yaaaaayyyy! Yay Baby!”
“What happened? What are you cheering for?”
“Yaaaaayyyy! Yay Baby!”
I got up and followed him into the bathroom, where he was gesticulating wildly in between claps and cheers.
Several months ago, I put a little Weeman urinal on the side of the toilet. J has been peeing in it with our help for some time now.
This time, there was PEE in it without me having taken him, he peed in his Weeman all by himself! He is busting his buttons, he’s so proud. Dan and I are pretty psyched about it too. No telling if it’ll happen again anytime soon, but the fact that it did is FREAKIN’ SWEET.
There are so many funny moments lately. Here’s a good one:
We are giving night-weaning another go. I want SLEEP, not a creature attached to my chest like a lamprey. I used to love nursing my little baby at night, but those days are long gone, pal.
I told Julian the other night that he couldn’t have milk when it was dark, only when the sun was out. He kept crying for milk, and I told him, “No, no milk right now. You can have milk when the sun comes out.”
Well, he just bawled his brains out, and I felt terrible, even shed a tear or two, but I stuck to my guns. I had to put a pillow over my head at points, because his screaming was making me lose my mind, and nothing that I did to comfort him helped. He wanted MILK, dammit!
The pillow over my head drove him crazy. I told him flat out, “I’m putting this pillow over my head because your screaming is hurting my ears. Please stop screaming and then Mommy can take the pillow away.” Quite unexpectedly, as soon as I told him that, he piped down and snuggled next to me as close as he could get.
Every time that he woke up and asked for milk, I told him, “It’s dark and time for sleeping now. When the sun comes out, you can have milk again.” Then he would cry and I’d tell him I was going to have to put the pillow over my head. He’d snuggle up super-close, pipe down and go to sleep. Repeat five or six times, and you have idea of how our night went. But it was still great not nursing him back to sleep.
Before anyone gets on my case about depriving my baby, I always said that I’ll keep nursing until it’s not working for one of us anymore. Well, that time has come for night-time nursing. I want SLEEP. I’ve been a totally AP mom for two years now, but I’m not a martyr. It’s bugging me. He doesn’t get good sleep because the craving for milk wakes him up all night long, and then he has to pee more often, so THAT wakes him up, and it’s all just a big vicious cycle. “The time has come,” the Walrus said, and for us the time has come.
So it’s about 7:00am, and both of us are fading in and out of sleep. I mentally note that it’s getting light outside, and close my eyes, hoping for a bit more shuteye. Julian is snuggled right up against me, face to face. He reminds me of those cats who like to sleep on their owners’ heads., that’s how close he is to me. I have to turn my face away a little so that I can breathe. He is literally curled around my head.
I’m laying there with my eyes closed, not-quite sleeping, and all of a sudden I hear a baby voice, very quiet.
“Mommy?”
“Yes baby.”
“Sun, Mommy. MILK.”
And with that, he sits up and points to the cloudy gray light barely peeking through the closed blinds.
I start to say something about how it’s light, but the *sun* itself hasn’t actually come up yet, but then I realize I’m splitting hairs and being a real pain in the ass about this.
So instead I just say, “You’re right sweetie pie, the sun is coming up. Are you ready for some milk now?”