The only thing these places have in common is they both empty wallets.

The Son had his two year old well child check up this morning. He is perfectly perfect. His weight is in the 60th percentile and his height is in the 20th, the same percentages as he has had since he was three months old. I expect he will stay around there since he has shortish, chubbyish, parents. He decided to show off his verbal skills for both the nurse and the doctor ( “Pwease nurse? The Son have a Thomas Sticker, Pwease?”, “My ears not hurt. You no look in dem.”), and they told me what I already know, his speech is way ahead of the curve. What did we get a big fat FAIL on? His sleeping habits.

The kid STILL wakes up at least once a night, walks into our room, climbs into our bed, and latches on to the first breast he can find. Sometimes The Husband or I will put him back in his bed when he falls asleep in ours……or not. Often he will just stay in our bed for the rest of the night nursing at the all night Mama buffet. This, according to my pediatrician any way, is completely unacceptable for a two year old. Now I know that I have LLL friends and MDC friends who would say the Pediatrician has been brainwashed by cold science and that children have been co-sleeping and night nursing for millennia…and while I agree it is okay for some families…it is becoming a problem for us. I want to go to sleep and stay asleep. I do not want little fingers poking me in the eye at three AM or little teeth scraping my nipple as he loses his latch in the middle of the night. While I seriously doubt I will go against all of my AP philosphies, we are getting ready to stop night nursing–cold turkey. THERE WILL BE NO NURSING FROM 9 PM TO 6AM. There I proclaimed it to the internet, so now we have to stick with it.

After I got chewed out for my hippie ways, The Son had to get a Hep-A booster. (see? I get him vaccinated! He is circumcised too! And we used Pampers! I am not that crunchy!—Oh wait. Hippie friends? Do you still love me? I still use my sling! I try to avoid all food dyes. We only use positive reinforcement. He is still nursing at two for crying out loud! Obviously I do not fit in with either camp of the mommy wars. Oh, well.) Where was I? Oh yeah. The Son got a shot. He did not want to sit on my lap, so he just sat in a chair and I held his hands while the nurse jabbed him. He was more pissed off and surprised than hurt. He did not cry for more than a second, but when the nurse left and then came back to hand me a packet on “healthy sleep habits” he shouted when she was in the doorway, pointing at her he said. “NO! YOU STAY!” “NOOOO! STAY!”. I asked him if anything would make him feel better (expecting him to want to nurse), and he said, “I need Pancakecakes, Mama. Pwease?” We went to IHOP of course.

After his pancake with yogurt on top (um, ewww.) and a reaaaally long nap, we did what everyone else does on a perfect early fall evening. Another fall night, another county fair. This time it was in our own hometown. I am a member of a philanthropic organization that gets partial proceeds from the paid parking…if I go risk my life by standing amongst all of the compensating for something big trucks and breathing the second hand smoke wafting from open car windows as people hand me their three dollars that have been who knows where. Things I have learned? Teeth are rarer than I once thought in our lovely community, and certain people have different standards of child car seat safety than I do. I do not find letting your toddler balance on your twelve pack of Coors in the front seat of your pickup to be particularly safe, but they pay me three bucks to point to a vacant lot with a flashlight, not gesticulate on the security of their children.

The Son got to have another fabulous fair experience, this time with his other grandparents (his Grammy and Grandpa. Not the ones in their eighties, they only take him on the super fun Buick ride–that is a joke–the Buick ride with Grandma is the scariest one of all ((Lord, please do not let them be reading my blog. Amen.)). This time The Son rode the huge Ferris Wheel (he is definitely NOT afraid of heights), a firetruck, a race car, the dragon coaster, the flying lizards, the wiggle worm, a carousel, and the spin-till-you-regurgitate apples. My mom and I rode that one with him, and it was basically Disney teacups, only enclosed in a fiberglass apple. I guess to keep vomit from hitting other patrons? All of us managed to keep down our meatloaf, but we were pretty wobbly as we stepped onto the rickety stairs.

The last ride of the night was a return trip to the rotating firetrucks, and while all of the seat belts I strapped on The Son seemed to be in pretty good shape, when the overly cheerful Carney handed The Son back to me, I could smell the liquor halo around him. I guess now we know why Mr. Carney was so friendly, Everclear! Is it considered drunk driving if all you have to do is pull a lever? The Son was the one behind the wheel after all.

That pretty much ended our rides for the evening, we sauntered over to the fishing hole (side note: Hey JHJ, were we EVER allowed to play these games? I don’t think so. My theory is because the prizes are so horrific and Mom and Dad only enjoy paying for The Son to play because they know those prizes are coming to my house.), The Son caught a rubber shark that had been dyed blue because of all the food coloring in the water. His prize “catch” earned him (at least I think, the lady carney running the booth spoke zero English, she kinda gestured at us so we grabbed a prize and left. Maybe we stole it?) a plastic trumpet. (HOOOONNKKASQUUUEEEEAK!) Oh let me tell you the joy I felt about that. On the way home, I shoved a piece of cotton candy in the end (google says it is called the bell) to keep it quiet, but all that did was earn me a piece of damp cotton candy in my hair when he blew really hard. (PhffffffftSPLATSQUEEEEEAKAHOONK!)

I guess it was pay back for telling him he can’t nurse at night anymore.

Filed under Breastfeeding, Parenting for Dummies, The Son | Comments (4)