I used to make fun of late-weaning babies. It was a hobby of mine. I'd stand on the corner and mock the 16-month-old who looked recently breast-fed.
And then I had a daughter who was still demanding "nursey" from her mother at bedtime as the days ticked down towards her second birthday. Three weeks to go before I had a two-year-old La Leche poster child! Talk about a crisis of self-loathing!
But I put the kids to bed on Wednesday and Thursday night sans lactating mother, and tonight we decided to see what would happen. At first we were going to try switching who read books to whom, but Max is a stickler for form, and he insisted that I read to him, as has been the course for almost two straight years now. Cathleen read to Eliza and, when we were all done with books and stories, deposited her into her crib. No protest from the girl, and she was asleep within a short time. And tomorrow night we're heading to the movies (the movies!), with a babysitter handling bedtime duty.
It's not official yet, but we appear to have reached the point where Cathleen has become expendable.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment