I am starting to be ready to be done with nursing. The problem is that I knew going into nursing a toddler that weaning could become a battleground for the toddler will, so I planned to stick with it longer and basically go towards child-led weaning. But I’m finding that I really am getting tired of it – not just on a practical sort of level, but on a visceral level. It’s starting to get closer to tripping switches on body integrity and I really don’t want to get to the point that we have some kind of triggered meltdown.
So lately I have been negotiating with Noah a bit around it – offering milk or water, the same way we stopped nursing in public. So far he’s able to be distracted about 1/3 of the time, which is at least a 1/3 improvement. I’ve also started pointing out that mummy and daddy don’t nurse, and big boys and girls don’t nurse. Unfortunately today I think he actually “got” that explanation – and immediately demanded to latch on for a good 20 minute nurse. Hmmm.
Same thing with the potty, really. He has one and has removed his diaper to sit on it and even peed off the edge. Then he decided he was not interested and now if I put it out, he picks it up and puts it under the kitchen table. Which is fine; I’m not too worried about potty learning at 22 mos of age.
But both these things have me suspecting that Noah has inherited or acquired Carl’s oppositional defiance and I am starting to worry about what our family will look like, then, if there are two people whose first reaction to any feeling of being requested, pushed, or enticed towards something is to never. ever. do. that. Fortunately both also genuinely like to help people.
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For the first time in a long time I had to step away from the computer yesterday and go throw the ball around the yard a bit. Someone was insisting to me that God has specific, personal plans for everyone and that it is just my lack of divine capacity that prevents me from seeing the plan God had for Emily to die. Even going so far as to point out that maybe Noah was the plan. Grr. I don’t think I am ever going to get past intolerance for that point of view.
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I never thought I would see the day that I started to think Noah might just cheerfully go off to daycare/montessori/preschool/whatever. But we were at Ikea (not to shop really; we have been chauffering Carl from meeting to meeting right now and this was between meetings) and Noah saw some other kids in one of the play areas (he’s too young for the play drop off area) and just – took off. So I waited for him to look for me. Never really did. HmmmMMMMmmmm.
I so feel for you about the nursing. Sarah (now 25 and fiercely independent, heh) was the same age as Noah when I decided I was over being a 24-hour milkbar. This despite an intention to allow weaning to be child-led, as you. I had also intended following the Continuum Concept, which equates well-balanced, well-adjusted children and adults to having NEVER been without skin contact in the first 24 months of life. So much for good intentions. What’s FINE in a tribal situation with oodles of aunts and grannies at call to take bub when peeing or washing or doing necessary housework, is simply not possible when one is a single mum. Duh. Amazing how long it took me to work thhat out, nevertheless.
So. I decided. Sarah, I’ve had it with the teeth and the fractious demands. I would like to complete one of my own action cycles for once. Hah. She had other plans, and immediately got sick, needing even more constant nursing for a bit. I made an executive decision which amounted basically to giving in for another three months. After that, she actually self-weaned. No matter how I try to take credit for this, I end up admitting that when she was ready, she was ready. Not for want of my input, mind.
It was just that she needed three more months to consider it was a good idea for her as well as me.
Ouch on the intolerance. Personally, I am currently indifferent about God, after always struggling with my faith… Or lack thereof. I tend to believe that things happen for a reason, but sometimes, despite what we may want to believe, it is a simple biological, natural reason. I had a period of increased fertility because nature knew something wicked was lurking… ?? For me, reason is comforting, so that works for me. By the same token, it is incredibly difficult to give reason to a loss. When Gram died, I knew she was taken by cancer, but that damn sure didn’t make it any easier, or “okay” for me to accept. And as far as a greater reason? Who knows. I know I wouldn’t push my beliefs on anyone just because they comfort me. And some things you just can’t reason.
Wishing you solace and love.
-H