Weaning is kind of like street fighting. During our recent trip Milo regressed a bit in terms of how much he’s been nursing. Actually, “regressed” really isn’t fair. With all of the traveling, long flights and new environments we’ve been subjecting him to, we decided to cut him some slack and let the good times flow. Before we left the east coast, Milo was sleeping through the night and just nursing once a day (when he woke up in the morning). By the time we got home, he was pretty much nursing at will throughout the night.
So now 2 plus months later we’ve been trying to get back to where we were. Rachel is currently sleeping upstairs by herself and I’m stuck in bed with a mini Jean-Claude Van Damme. Everything has been fine lately until about 3 am when Milo wakes up and rolls over looking for a snack. When he finds me instead he gets totally pissed. I usually try to hold on to him, partially to console him and partially to keep him from flying off the bed amidst his characteristic “rigid writhing”. But holding on to him only infuriates him more. This is where the street fighting comes in. He generally attempts to slam his forearm into my throat while pounding away at my stomach with churning knees and legs. It actually can really hurt. I usually manage to hold back the urge to give him a pile driver. Eventually my efforts are rewarded. In a state of exhaustion and mourning the loss of his nocturnal comfort snack, he falls asleep with his arms around my neck – super cute.
Anyway, after about a week or so of this, we’ve pretty much got back to where we were pre-Hawai’i. Today, Rachel pulled the plug. Instead of a morning nursing, Milo got oatmeal (with coconut)!! He’s now gone nearly 2 days without nursing – by far the longest stretch in his life. And barring some unforeseen event, that’s it – the end of an important chapter.
Too bad there aren’t any of these around to make the transition more bareable!!!
