Boobie Baby

So about that weaning plan.  Ummmm.  Well, we really don’t have one.  We’re following the whole Attachment Parenting, La Leche League self-weaning plan.  In this plan, the child decides at some point or another that s/he has had enough boob and is willing to move forward in life with a cup full of milk instead of a (bra) cup full of boob.

Honestly, in most cultures that follow self-weaning, the child stops nursing between 2 and 3 years old.  I’ve read somewhere that in some cultures, they suggest that 4 years old should be when children are weaned, but by jove and by golly, no more than 5 years old. 

I am here to tell you that Conor has no intentions of giving up the boob anytime soon.  My mom predicted that as a football player in high school, I'm going to have to run out on the field to provide a little comfort whenever he gets tackled.

It's clear that he is a big fan.  A very big fan.  A really big fan.  He gets a glimpse of the boob and he is all for it.  If he could cheer for the boob, he would.  Probably TMI, but yesterday I was changing clothes and he was playing Flop on the bed.  (Flop involves raising one's hands over one's head and then falling face first on a soft surface)  He saw my bosoms as I was putting on my nursing bra and Flop was over.  He got a very focused and determined look on his face and started crawling right across the bed directly at me.  "Hmmmm, wonder what he's thinking?" Dave commented.

We’ve had BF friendly folks with their nursing children over here for the last two weekends and I (and I alone) was the only one with a child who needed to nurse.  4 times in 4 hours.  Granted, two of those times involved a fall-down-go-boom walking event, but still! 

And he’s not subtle about it.  He’s bobbing and weaving around the chest area.  He’s smacking his head and hands on the breast.  He’s drooling on my shirt.  It’s so obvious that neighbors two doors down could shout out “YOUR CHILD WANTS TO NURSE!”

I’m complaining here, but I really don’t mind.  And I’ll tell you why:  I’m not pumping during the day.  When I’m not around, he’s happy as a clam with his sippy cup of organic whole milk.  It’s only when there’s a choice, that I become the one and only.  But not pumping is so, so nice.  SOOOO nice. 

But he’s attached to his nummies for the duration.  I don’t even think a little pregnancy is going to get in his way.  (No, I’m not pg.)  That’s fine.  We’ll figure this all out and change things as we need to. 

OK.  I’m back to the house.  It’s weird having my blogging computer out in the office.  It’s fantastic for work; I’m so much more productive with a separate office, but I miss being able to blog whenever I’d like. 

7:27:13 PM