The Weaning Plan.
We have made the family decision it is time for The Son to be weaned. Two of the three of us are fine with it, but the third is not so sure.
I have been cutting off my little “Nur-nur” addict s l o w l y and it is just plain time to be done already. The original plan was to do Child Led Weaning, which means he chooses when he is done, but y’all, I know my kid and I seriously think he would nurse until middle school if I let him!
Here is the new plan. We are pretty much down to two or three (okay three to four) nursing sessions a day and they (with exception of nap- I will do whatever it takes for him to nap) are only about two minutes long. This month we are going to cut out two full sessions, and get any others to less than a minute.
On Monday we went to Hobby Lobby and I let him pick out several scrapbook papers, then we bought a pair of safety scissors (only big boys get to use scissors) and worked together to make a paper chain–one link for each day until he is a “big boy”. We hung it up in our living room and remove a link a day. We also have let him help pick out a “big boy” bed, and are going to do some re-arranging in his room.
We talk everyday about all the cool things a big boy gets to do and how he will be a big boy when he stops nursing. We have had a few instances of, “but I want to be a baby” but so far the elusive joys of big boydom seem to be winning. On August 29 we are having a weaning party (NOT a birthday party even though it is just two days before he turns three) we will all congratulate him on being a big boy, will set up his new bed, will have over his friends (um, at least the children of my sweet hippie friends who are cool with coming to a weaning party) and will have yummy homemade ice cream (made with rice milk for previously mentioned hippie friends).
What do you think internet? Anything else I can do to make this a gentle transistion for him? Anyone ever been to a weaning party and have suggestions of what we need to do? If you are near home town and are cool with what we are doing, you should totally come! (8/29, 10:30 am) Anyone appalled he is not weaned yet? Eh, get over it, nursing has been one of the best experiences of my life–has changed my life, and the way I think about my body. But, I am ready to see what comes next.
Filed under Breastfeeding, Parenting for Dummies, The Son | Comments OffToday’s statement of the obvious brought to you by MOPS
and the fact I have worked harder for them this week than I did while getting paid by heartless phone company.
Statement of the obvious:
Boys like sticks.
And things that come on sticks.
The End. Join me next week for further observations like things get wet when it rains. Back to work for me.
Filed under Photography, The Son | Comments OffI need help Internet, before the Klan comes a callin’.
I love my hometown. I would be perfectly happy to live right in this same town my entire life. I want to travel to other places, to see new things, and meet interesting people–but this is where I want my roots. Hometown is fairly diverse I guess. It is certainly not as diverse as some places I have lived, but it is not all just red neck, white people either. We have a problem here in the Huckablog household, one caused because we do not have any super close friends of different ethnicities; one I have no idea how to correct. The Son, Lordy, I do not even know how to tell you this without it sounding so horrible–so I am just going to tell you, The Son has taken to calling African American people “Chocolate.”
It started about two weeks ago, we were in the Huckablazer outside of Target trying to navigate our way through the parking lot. An African American Dad and his two super cute little boys were sitting on the bench out front, and The Son pointed and said, “Look Mama, Look Daddy! A little chocolate boy, and anuder chocolate boy and a chocolate daddy!” The Husband and I just stared at each other trying to digest what our kid had just said, and wondering how the hell we handle this one. I think I stammered something about how they had pretty brown skin which looked like chocolate, but that it was still skin just like his, and how saying that might make them feel bad. I think, I really was so stunned I doubt it was that articulate.
I had hoped it was just a one time thing, but then just a day or two later we were curled up in my bed watching an old school Sesame Street online, when Grover was having a talk about rhyming with Erik. Again, “Mama! Look! He is chocolate!” Seizing the moment, I paused the video, and pulled out my arm and held it next to his. “See how our arms are not exactly the same color?” “Yes.” “That is because God makes people in all different colors. We are all made up of the same stuff, just alike on the inside, but on the outside we all look different. One way we look different is the color of our skin. This little boy is just a normal little boy, his skin is just brown instead of kinda pinky white like yours. Do you understand?” “Yes.” “Good. Now we can see what rhymes with toy.”
The next day at Wal-Mart. “There is a Chocolate lady mama!” This time I was embarrassed and slightly mad because we had just had this discussion and he said it loud enough for people to hear. “She is NOT chocolate, and it is naughty to say that because it would hurt her feelings if she heard. She is just a lady with skin that looks different than yours, and we do not say mean things about people.” “CHOCOLATE IS NOT NAUGHTY MAMA!” I know that other people heard that, but think they thought we were talking about candy instead of why I was seeing his future as a minister/senator fade away. “If you say it again you are going to time out. No warnings. ”
Later the same day I heard him “reading” a book, Knuffle Bunny Too, and saying that Sonya was chocolate. AGH. How do I fix this? He does not go to school. We go to an all white church (it is hard to find a church in the south that is not segregated–sad but true.) There are a couple of bi-racial kids in our playgroup, but he has not noticed there is a difference in their skin, and I am wary of pointing it out.
Is it a phase? Should I punish him? We really truly have NEVER said anything even slightly racist that he could have over heard, so I have no idea if he thinks people a different color than him are really made of something different, or if he is just being silly. What do I need to do?
Filed under Boy is my face red, The Son, lexapro lexplains it | Comments (11)31 things you never knew about my Husband.
1. He always sleeps on his left shoulder on the smallest possible amount of bed on the left side. There is usually a dog by his feet and a two year old often has both feet shoved in his Daddy’s kidneys.
2. He gives the best rendition of Green Eggs and Ham you have EVER heard. The Son’s (and mine) favorite part is when he pretends he is underwater.
3. He brings me my half a pill every single night.
4. He takes an entire handful of vitamins at the same time.
5. The air conditioner was broken in the hospital the day he was born. His mother loves him anyway.
6. He had Garfield checks when we first met.
7. Even though he now listens to Rush and Glenn Beck almost daily, he voted for Bill Clinton.
8. He and our Son have the same middle name. Among many other traits.
9. He is a tee-totaler, meaning he will not even sip alcohol.
10. When he was a teenager–he….well lets just say that he did more than sipping of wine coolers.
11. He wants to wear khaki pants and a blue polo to work everyday. He wants to wear khaki shorts and a brown or blue t-shirt at all other times.
12. He helps The Son make me a cross for my collection every mother’s day.
13. He graduated high school when he was 17.
14. He likes to swim in pools way more than in lakes or oceans or rivers because he “can see the bottom, and what lives there.”
15. He hates to shave, only does it when it starts to hurt my chin when I kiss him.
16. He can fix anything. ANYTHING. He says his dad taught him.
17. Our first kiss was really, really awkward. He is a really good kisser now. But no one gets to test and see if I am telling the truth. Just trust me–I see stars.
18. When we first met, he said he hated Chinese food. Now it is his favorite.
19. When he was a little boy he said he wanted seven children. Now he just wants one….maybe two.
20. He once bought a girl a five hundred dollar Barbie doll. She broke his heart. I am glad.
21. He is constantly surrounded by a cloud of coax cables.
22. He hangs every picture The Son has ever painted him in his office.
23. He makes this horrible sound in the back of his throat when his allergies are bothering him. His allergies are always bothering him.
24. Right after we got married, I threw away every single pair of underwear he owned and bought him all new Old Navy boxers. I overdrew our checking account in doing so, and he still said thank you.
25. He is slightly afraid of spiders. He thinks they are all black widows.
26. He used to idolize Kurt Cobain–and credits Kurt’s death as what turned him around as a teenager. So I guess, Thanks Kurt! You might want to go check on your daughter now.
27. He can build a mean block tower. He started practicing really young.
28. He is incredibly fiscally responsible. Ask me about how our vacation to Jamaica got turned into Destin.
29. He was a boyscout for forever, and missed being an eagle scout because of when his birthday fell.
30. We disagree on how old The Son should be when he gets to watch Star Wars. He had seen it by 5. Guess who his favorite character was.
31. He is 31 today. Happy Birthday Darlin.
Filed under Photography, The Husband | Comments (5)Hupdates. Alternate title: Dear blog, I have been having an affair with real life.
We had vacation bible school last week. I was in charge of the story telling room, and built -in this order- a mountain top and a burning bush, Pharaoh’s palace, an Israelite village, the upper room in Jerusalem, and the Red Sea-parted. (That reminds me of my favorite lyric in Love Shack, “Tiiiiiiin Roof—Rusted“. Now whenever I say the Red Sea I sing it, “Reeeed Sea–Parted”. ) What was I talking about? Oh yes, vacation bible school. I would say I probably spent about 40 hours this past week either at church, or building sets at home.
The worst night would be the evening I had my room all ready the night before, Israelite houses built and the blood (red paint) in place to teach about Passover, and my Grandma decided to help. Oh, have I not mentioned yet that she was my helper? She was my helper. That night, she got to church way before me and “helped” by “cleaning” up my classroom. And taking down the set. And throwing away all of the pieces. I just switched the lesson around and it was fine, the kids never knew the difference. That same night she spilled an entire pitcher of red juice on the sisal rug in my classroom. Who knew the blood of Christ could not be Oxycleaned? Dear Lord, please forgive me for joking about Holy Communion, but seeing as how you know about the kind of week I had, I think you understand.
I was shaking I was so exhausted when I finally came home that last night, and we all slept late the next day. The Son just loved VBS. He has started wanting to say his own prayers at night since VBS began. They all start “Dear God, Thank you for letting me ride on the big airplane, and for vacation, and the funny car, and the hotel in Pennsylvania, and for vacation bible school, and church, and my trains, and for Herbie.” They continue with just Thank You’s for several minutes. So far he has not been thankful for his parents, but I really don’t care. Hearing my two year old pray, on his own with no prompting is the best positive feedback I have gotten as a parent thus far. Last night he fell asleep mid sentence. “Thank you for that man who….” “Is he asleep?” “I think so.” We got up to leave, and he said “Amen.” and rolled over and went back to sleep. That kid just melts my heart sometimes.
I had one day of rest and then it was on to the next thing, cleaning and decorating for 7daytrial’s virtual baby shower! I cut out approximately 4 million circles to use in my polka dot theme, but it turned out really, really cute. I will post pictures and tell you all about it soon.
Next up, I have to get on the ball with my MOPS responsibilities. Oh, did I not tell you? I have been asked to be on the steering committee for MOPS this year. I am the fund raising person. I have to mail out hundreds of letters this week begging for money from local businesses, all the while convincing them that I am not begging but giving them a great chance to advertise. I am mostly praying that I raise enough–because even though our community has not been super hard hit by the recession, it still is not a good time to ask for money. After that we have a huge fundraiser we do with a local photographer– local moms, EMAIL ME! I still have some really cheap coupons left to get professional pictures of your kiddos. Like ten bucks cheap. The Neighbor? I am saving one for you.
We also finally, FINALLY settled with the insurance company for The Husband’s wreck he had back in January. We prayed a lot over this one, and felt like we were being told not to be greedy and fight for more than they offered. He is well, the car is fixed, and medical bills will be paid–it was not worth going to court for more.
Hmm. What else? Uncle D and his friend came to visit, that was nice. Umm, oh, the monolithic swing set got blown over by another storm, and The Husband said a “daddy” word or seven. The Son is going to have a Herbie themed third birthday, and believe it or not I am going to go low key for it since we will be leaving for vacation that same week. We are just inviting family and his three bestest, his age exactly friends. I did, however, find a real live Disney made Herbie to come and make an appearance. He is going to FLIP out.
Yeah, that is pretty much it. Sorry I have been neglecting my blog, but you know what? Sometimes it is either that or neglect life, and I just can’t do that when I have such a nice one. So, tell me, what has been going on with you internet? You have been pretty quiet the last few weeks, so comment! Tweet! Go update your blogs!
Filed under Family-blame the DNA, Friends-All three of them, faith, lexapro lexplains it | Comments (3)Hey Internet? Do you remember?
The Son often starts a sentence with, “Mama? Remember how that boy called Herbie Ocho and then he fell off of the boat and then had bananas?” Or “Mama? Remember how I had an ricecweam cone that time that was blue and then my poop was green?” Or “Mama? Remember how I want to have some water with no ice right now?”.
It is cute, but may be the kind of thing you have to be there for.
Internet? Remember how I used to have things to write about? And I had like opinions and stuff? Yeah that was great.
Stuff is going on around here. I feel super busy but it all seems kinda boring when I sit down to type it out. So….Internet? Remember how I went on a trip that one time and it was lots of fun and I took lots of pictures? Want to see some? Here are a few of my favorites. I will get up a slide show soon.
I love this one. The Son put that door hanger there while we were visiting their room. They were not pleased with that room at all–ask my mom about the bed bugs. And the smoke. And the air conditioning. Our room was great, clean and right above the pool. Anyway back to the picture–it was most appropriate. My Dad MAY have been a little familied out.
Oh, boy. There they go again, they do that all the time you know. My favorite part is how Grandma is holding on to Grandpa’s collar. They remind me of someone….oh, yeah. Us.
This is the house they moved into after they were just married…although my Grandma did say something that made me wonder if it was really right BEFORE they got married. Hmm. I would not know anything about that. Nope, nothing. I asked her if he carried her over the threshold here, and he did. My husband did that too, but banged my head on the door frame.
This is the church they were married in, and the one that my dad was baptized in, and the one that my Great Grandfather was the associate pastor for. I think I just ended that sentence in a preposition. Please ignore.
They had glorious stained glass, but my favorite part was that it was not all just Jesus and Disciples, but stained glass of Methodist History! I saw Martin Luther and John, Charles, and Susanna Wesley, and many more. It was very neat for me, but I am sure the Baptists reading could care less. So I will move on. (Another preposition?! What is WRONG with me tonight?)
This is Aunt Alma, my grandmother’s oldest sister. I have only met her three times in my whole life, but I just LOVE her. Aren’t they lovely?
Speaking of lovely, look at these two. My MMiL and I talk like this too, it would be so sad to have one of those in-laws you hear about. Also, how is it fair that I have more wrinkles than my mother? Hmm? Tell me.
On the drive from New York to Pennsylvania, I made my dad drive my rental car so that I could snap some pictures. Apparently right around here is where my Grandpa used to drive to when he got off work because their liquor store stayed open an hour later than the one in his home town.
These are the original Hershey smoke stacks at the Hershey Factory. The whole town REALLY does smell like chocolate. And dairy cows. And tourists.
We saw several cemeteries filled with my ancestors. So much for anonymity– now you know that somewhere in the past six generations of my family someone had an initial J at one point. I just thought it was a cool picture.
Have I told you how GORGEOUS Pennsylvania is yet? I was trying to drive and take pictures. It may not have gone so well.
I love this picture because this is the EXACT face that The Husband, FFiL, and BiL all make when they are pouting. This pool was approximately 33 degrees–and we had to spend HOURS in it.
The best part about this picture? It is the plane taking me back home to my sweet hubby. And it was before I spilled all of my peanuts.
Hammocks
Oh Lordy, I can not believe I am about to show you this picture–here goes:
Things to notice:
1. The Blossom Hat. I wore it all the time and had a t-shirt with an enormous sunflower on it so when worn together it had the combined effect of a very ugly, silk centerpiece which would have been perfectly at home in the lobby of the Motel Six.
2.The Lack of Pants. This picture was taken while camping at the lake. I am sure I had on a swimsuit under the shirt, but who knows. I already told you no one at this house likes to be dressed, obviously this started early in life.
3.The Sweet Valley High Book. Have I ever told you I alternate good literature with Bodice Rippers (trashy romance novels for those who may not have had the pleasure of reading a book that has sentences like “Their bodies came together in an embrace that shook the heavens as he ripped the bodice of her gown from her heaving creamy bosom.”)? Sweet Valley High is a bodice ripper for thirteen year olds. There are HUNDREDS of those books and either one of them or a The Baby Sitter’s Club book were never far from my side for many years.
4. The item this post pertains to, The Hammock. This one was stored in our camping gear and I always used to race my dad for this spot at camp. Why we never bought another five dollar hammock, I have no idea.
Anyway–I like hammocks. A couple of years ago my in-laws moved to this lovely little community in the middle of nowhere. They were unsure how they would like it, so instead of buying land and then being stuck with it, they decided to rent. They loved it–we all loved it. Unfortunately the owners love it too and decided they want to move back in themselves. The Elder, but not old, Huckablogs have had to move. Which means their hammocks are in storage. Which means I am sad.
Here is my hammock on the old compound front lawn. Just try and tell me that is not the perfect place for a sweet tea and US Weekly.
Here are my feet in my hammock. This one was taken at Thanksgiving; I was too stuffed to move. I took these pictures while laying there.
The Son and I have napped and nursed so often in that hammock it would probably make even the most die hard lactivist proud.
The other hammock often hosted various relatives, they had to share because I would not move out of mine. Here are MMiL and The Son taking a break from hunting eggs at Easter.
The Son does not like to share either. Here he is trying to dislodge FFiL.
Sigh, so sad. A hammock in the back yard in the suburbs is just not the same. Good thing The Elder, but not old, Huckablogs are going to find an even BETTER compound, to buy this time. One with even BIGGER trees, and an even LOVELIER view. I fully intend to help unload the moving truck, but as soon as it is empty, I am grabbing my hammock, my sweet tea, and my trashy magazine and not budging until after the stars have all come out.
Filed under Boy is my face red, Family-blame the DNA, lexapro lexplains it | Comments (6)