Time, and time
I have to make a confession before relating today’s events: sleep around here has sucked, lately. Noah’s been sleeping the 7 pm - 12:30 am batch fine, although getting him down at 7 has been increasingly difficult with his usual routine going fine until the second song I sing to him at which point for the last week or so he has started to scream and claw at The Boobs until he gets to nurse himself down.
So I have let him and then his sleep from 12:30 am - 6 or 7 am went completely wonky too, with him getting up every two hours to nurse for an hour (leaving an hour of sleep in the middle). So I have been getting tired, and fretting a bit that nursing Noah down (which I defend as a choice! err, until it’s a problem) has been un-training him to go back to sleep on his own and that I have created a toddler-boob-sleep issue. I try to avoid power struggles unless it’s something critical (like oh, wearing your seat belt in the car seat) and since he’s really not a toddler yet that has mostly worked.
But this clawing at boob after he’d given up the go-to-sleep nurse sort of bothered me. I was saying that after my father-in-law visits next week Carl and I might have to do some kind of night weaning involving wailing and such.
But since he’s also been teething and getting babysat and things, I’ve just tried to bluster through it. Fearing for the health of his teeth and everything all the way, since having milk in his mouth for 3 hrs in the night while he does that one hour nurse-down can’t be the best thing for them even if we then brush them in the morning.
So tonight we did the routine and then Carl coming home sort of interrupted it and then we finished the book and he asked to nurse and I nursed him. And then he caught sight of his sippy cup and asked for “cup milk” in signs, so I filled it up with about 2 oz of milk (I mean, he doesn’t like milk, much, right?) and gave it to him.
The boy nuzzled it and patted it and rolled it over his tongue and then drank it all down and asked more.
Repeat twice. 6 oz! And he was clearly loving on his sippy cup.
Then I walked around with him for his songs and he couldn’t get comfortable so he pointed at his crib so I put him in. And he rolled over and went to sleep.
!!! The hell?? I mean it’s only one night. God knows what the next night will bring. But err… this would be more or less the routine I would choose? (Except for where teeth brushing occurs.) And he just - did it?
The weird thing about this is that - instead of feeling glad, although I do a bit, I feel sad and a bit odd. This is the first time pretty much ever that Noah has chosen cow’s milk over a boob and although I doubt it’s the end of our nursing relationship, it definitely is the first really clear start of it. One day that will be it; he will be loving his solid food and not be nursing. And that’s a good thing. Independence! Blah blah! And wine for me!
Still. Sniff. I fleetingly had one of those irrational thoughts, that because I was a tad frustrated at 5 this morning (which I was, and I did say “oh god” at Noah, not meanly, but frustratedly, when he got up after getting up at 2:50 and going back to sleep at 3:45, before I took him to cuddle and nurse) that he decided I don’t like him nursing to sleep and rejected me. Isn’t that weird?
Today was sort of a day like that. Noah chose a doll at the mega-mall I took my parents to, and hugged it for half an hour, nuzzling it and cooing to it. He sat in a booster seat and ate a grilled cheese (I guess we did okay on calcium today!) He asked for water and crackers when he wanted them; he looked for the diaper bag when I said it was time for a change; he washed his hands at the sink in the public washroom (held on my knee).
He’s only 14 months old! But he’s not a little baby any more!
Of course he didn’t take off walking. That would have killed me. Tomorrow, maybe.
~~~
Jody’s comment to my post on cleaning stuff is bang on: it is a matter of time helping to move from one stage to another, and I forget that. Especially with cleaning, since that’s not exactly how it worked for us growing up. Partly it just didn’t - my mother would take the day after each birthday to explain what the new chore was. 6 -vaccuuming; 7 - clean bathroom; 9 - do laundry (I don’t remember 8). And partly that is how our group memory is sometimes divided up. That’s probably true for everyone to some extent but for me I know things just jump from A to H without the letters in between, sometimes.
Maybe that’s one reason Noah’s leap today is freaking me out a bit.
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Well, right after I made that comment, I got the Montossori gift catalog with all the little cleaning supplies for kids, and all the blurbs about why cleaning with your toddler and preschooler is such a good idea, and of course — too late! So I had this total anxiety attack about how I had my chance to be the parent I wanted to be, and I blew it. Sigh.
The nursing/weaning transitions are hard. They hurt. And I hope enough for your sake that the bedtime routine gets better, not to want to tell you that Elba would have periods like that, and then be right back at the boob again. And getting her to give up night nursing, and nursing at all, was a bear — even at 3.5, when I was past ready. Or thought I was, until it was gone, and I felt sad.
Anyway, it sounds/looks like a big ole growth spurt, doesn’t it? 6 ounces of milk, yowza.
I loved the second year. Loved it. You are so lucky. When you’re not totally sleep deprived, I mean. (Insert wicked grin.)
sometimes i also have anxiety attacks and when it happens, i just breathe slowly and deeply to help me relax.”*”
Relaxation techniques and meditation can help a lot during Anxiety Attacks. :;~