I think it's time. Truthfully, I can't even believe it's still happening. I'm pretty sure he doesn't even want to anymore. Both of us have been crying about it. The dog days of nursing are over.
Yesterday, for the first time, the boy up and bit me hard as he could. It was as though he was trying to tell me, ENOUGH ALREADY; I'm over you. After hearing so many stories about the anguish, physical and mental, of weaning a baby who can't quit the boob, I know I'm so lucky. And yet, there is no relief. No excitement. Only sads. What the hell? Where is the woman who couldn't wait to get her body back? Maybe I can't function without my oxytocin fix. Do people become addicted to breastfeeding? I need a new vice (and a new excuse to eat as much dessert as I want).
I think tomorrow might be the first day when cow's milk is the only milk on the menu. I have been feeling some guilt about weaning right before cold/flu season, but that can last through March. I know I can't. My fluctuating hormones combined with Mr. Monk's four incoming teeth from hell have made this one awesome week in the Schneed household. No wonder the Mr. decided to catch the flu. Fun times.
So, now I get to go bra shopping, right? At least the empty inside comes with a pretty, lacy outside.
And, I'm pretty sure the babe will be able to find himself a new source of nourishment...Mexican!