I have no idea what that title means. A go-go? What the hell is that? Anyway this post is about his weaning party and updates on how it is going since I have gotten 901 emails asking me.
We had talked about how he was going to be a big boy and do big boy things after his big boy party for over a month. The night before we talked about how in the morning when he came to my bed I would let him nur-nur but then that was all. No more.
The Husband grabbed the camera and got a few shots of the last session.
It was sweet, but not as sad as I thought it might be. I let him nurse as long as he wanted, but it was really only a few minutes.
His party started at 10:30 and I still had to decorate and pick up the cookie cake and wash glass pitchers so we did not lounge around, but got right up and went to work. That may have made me a teeny bit unhappy, but why drag out the hard stuff (are you a quick Band Aid ripper? I am. The Husband wants to take them hair by hair. I bet a psychology major could write a whole thesis on personality traits and band aid ripping.)
We had a milk and cookie theme for his big boy party. Our homemade ice cream fell through–but in the end the milk bar was such a success I was glad we did this instead.
Before I cut up the cookie, I read off the list of Big Boy things that The Son gets to do now and everyone cheered for him. Man, do I ever love those people.
The Milk bar included cow, goat, soy, rice, and hemp. None of the Huckablogs liked anything but the cow, but my sweet Hippie friends found some cool new ones they enjoyed. I put out tiny Dixie cups so people could try just a little.
One should always invite Shoeshe to parties like this. Her creativity is invaluable. I asked her to label the different kinds of milk and she gave each one a tag line, “Goat gets my Vote”, or, “Hemp not for a Wimp”.
I did just enough decorations to make it seem special. A little crepe paper and some signs was all.
I posted this sign on the door of the fridge, feeling very much like Martin Luther.
I also hung up This letter. It made my fellow nursing mamas all cry.
Then the kiddos all played on the Big Boy Swing Set that has been destroyed by weather TWICE this summer. It is still not complete, but it is slowly getting there.
Then he opened a couple of Big Boy themed gifts, like hard puzzles and easy reader books and that was it. All of the cookie was eaten and I sent all the non cow milk home with the LLLadies.
After the party The Son was tired so Shoeshe and I laid down on his bed with him, and she read him some stories. When she was done, he looked up at me and said, “Mama? Can I nur-nur?” “No, honey, you are a big boy now. All of Mama’s milk is gone.” “Well, can I try?” “Nope, sorry. But I will lay here with you for a while.”
I was REALLY glad Shoeshe was there right then. I think her support kept me strong. He went to sleep for the first time with me at home not nursing – ever.
When he woke up we took him to Build a Bear to make a big boy treat. I told him he could get WHATEVER he wanted. He made a dog whom he immediately named Philbert and refused to dress him. “Dogs don’t wear clothes Mama!” We got out fast and off cheap.
Then we had Sushi and came home and that was it. His Big Boy day was over.
Since then we have had to talk a few times about how he is a big boy and can’t nurse, and he has said he wanted to be a baby some, but quickly changes his mind when I remind him of all the things he would have to give up if he were a baby.
I have had a few minutes where I really just wanted to get him to sit still and cuddle, and felt a little sad, but really it has not been too bad at all. I was having more, “Man I want to be done” days than, “I love nursing so much” days for a good six months, so I sorta feel relieved.
There have been two weird things. Even though he will only whine when I say no for a few minutes, he BEGS to be able to “rub your nur-nurs Mama!” Um. Yeah. LLL assures me this is most normal, but it seems a little squicky to me so we are having to definitely set some limits there.
The other weird thing? I put big Band Aids over my nipples so that if he climbs into my bed while I am asleep he can not latch himself on. I could not find plain band Aids so Cookie Monster was guarding my left breast and Big Bird was protecting the right. And now my son hates Big Bird and Cookie Monster. I imagine his future shrink’s 401K is thanking me.Filed under Breastfeeding, hostess with the mostess., lexapro lexplains it, The Son | Comments (3)