I'm free! (We're talking marginally...I will never be fully free again...)
Today is the first day of my husband's unplanned trip to Cabo. Great opportunity, the trip was practically free, and I couldn't say no (well, I could have, but that would have made me a bitch). So he's gone for a few days, but it's all right. The boys and I will have lots of fun on our own and truly they are way less troubling to handle 2 on 1 than they used to be.
But I'm going to say it. It's my turn when you get back, Honey. I am getting out of dodge for a few days, without you, without any little boys, without any remorse. I'm out.
I am so in need of a break it's not even funny. I've gotten much more relaxed about having babysitters come stay with them, the only reason I don't have a sitter more often is the cost. But I have not slept a single night away from my boys in a very long time. Husband took B1 to Winnipeg for a few nights when I was expecting B2, so I guess that was kind of like being alone...but not really, since I had my gymnast/water polo/wrestling fetus kicking the crap out of me from the inside out. But now - I can finally do it! After thirty-three looooonnnnnggggg months, B2 has finally weaned himself. I think, anyway. He hasn't asked in a week, and he was only asking every other day or so for a couple of weeks before that. So for the first time in about five years, I am finally not pregnant, nursing, or both. It's fantastic!
I never set out to have a nursling for so long. When B1 was born, I had no preconceptions about how long I would nurse him, or if I'd even be able to, only that I'd try. And it was awful. I was so very close to giving up, that first month. I didn't do it often enough, never had enough for him and constantly had to be pumping, topping him up with bottles, and fretting about his weight. He never really loved it that much and gave it up when I was a few months pregnant again. And then B2 came along and was completely different. From his first latch, he knew what he liked, and it was me. That boy would never even try a bottle. Or a soother. Or allow anything else to comfort him. Then at almost 3 years old, he finally decided on his own that it was time to be a big boy.
A lot of people told me, thought, or probably said behind my back that I should cut him off, long ago. And sure, I could have. But I'm very happy that it happened the way it did. No tears, no fighting, no conflict. Just a peaceful "No thank you, I don't want any Mama Milk today" and off to dreamland. It wasn't always easy, and the toughest part was needing to be here to put him to bed every night for about a thousand days. But I also knew that it would be a relatively short time in his life and mine and I was more than willing to give him that time.
But now it's over. I'd be lying if I said I won't expect pangs of missing the cuddle time and special closeness that only I was able to have with him for so long. Or if I said it doesn't make me feel a little blue that I will probably never nurse a baby again. But in between those wistful thoughts, I'll be skipping my way to the spa for a well-deserved little Mommy break in the New Year.