It was a wet weekend: yesterday, we set up the wading pool under the gazebo and let the kids splash around; today, we went to birthday party for one of BJ's playgroup pals, a posh pool party at a local country club. Both events gave BJ ample opportunity to employ a favorite recent "compliment," given out whenever my hair is wet -- "Mommy, your hair looks like cheese!"
Gee, thanks, kid. Really appreciate your announcing to the upper crust world that your mother is a cheese-head. Guess you didn't think I was quite self-conscious enough, wearing a bathing suit in public in all my pale, postpartum glory.
But in spite of that, we had a good time. BJ had a blast splashing around. It was BB's first time in a pool, and she wasn't quite sure what to make of it, but she did well so long as she had me or S holding her. After swimming, the kids did some play time and then had pizza. BB was enchanted by the "face painting" lady, and had her arms decorated with a flower and a butterfly. BB sat up at the little table with all the other 3 year olds, just as comfy as could be. The kids are really growing up!
When we got home, we were all tuckered out from the sun and the water. The kids took excellent naps, thank goodness. S and I are still pretty weary, though!
In other news, this weekend we've hit two more milestones: BB is no longer breastfeeding, and BJ is no longer wearing diapers. About the latter, I'm absolutely thrilled. He'd been only wearing them at night for some time now, and waking up dry for weeks, so we just took the plunge and put him in underwear last night. No problem! (Knock wood!) No need to "go" during the night, and woke up dry. I'm so proud of him.
About weaning, I'm feeling very bittersweet. I'm delighted, since no more nursing will mean (ultimately) better sleep -- all her feedings were happening at night. And I'm just so tired. S is too. Something needed to change. But I miss nursing already. Sigh.
We cut her down to one a night a few days ago, and she didn't protest too much, so last night we thought we'd cut out that last one. S was his usual amazing self, patiently rocking her and singing to her and reassuring her through what little fussing there was. He's been wonderful about bearing the brunt of the night-wakings through this. (Thank you, S!)
But ready as I am for us all to be sleeping better, it is difficult to let go of my baby, to think of her as weaned. There's nothing quite like the connection, the intimacy of breastfeeding. It's a beautiful, magical experience. I'm very proud to have breastfed both my children. And while the part of me that clings to symbols wishes, slightly, that we'd waited until her 17 month birthday (only 2 days away!) I realize that she's ready. And that's what really matters.