Big Baby

Dear Jen,

Today was a big day, because I finally did it: weaned Gavin. I mean, I had considered him more or less weaned for the past few months--he doesn't eat at all throughout the day...generally. Okay lately I've been slipping a little when I'm really tired and he's really cranky and he's searching around in my shirt with this pathetic wimper--you know how it goes (or maybe I'm the only sucker here).

But I've known for a while that I need to just cancel the whole nursing thing altogether, especially since I am more than convinced that at this point he is getting nothing more from the experience than the comfort of being close to mommy and sucking on something. Here's how I know (TMI?): pancakes. You can't get milk out of pancakes.

Anyway, so I'd been thinking about it, worrying about it--knowing that with the impending birth of a baby that will actually rely on my milk for survival, I would have to get him to kick the habit soon-ish, but certain that my little momma's boy would put up a big fight and make me feel like I was abandonning him.

Side note. I've realized something: Evelyn has never been much of a jealous child when it came to Gavin. He on the other hand has become very much so since he gained awareness. Evelyn's sitting on my lap? He will drop everything to run over whining to me and crawling all over me, pushing her right off if he can manage it. I'm holding Evelyn? Instant break-down. Here's my theory on the matter: Evelyn is secure in her position in life because she had a full two years and two months of parental affection all to herself. Gavin, however, has always had to share, from the moment he was born. But it's all fine now because at the end of the day, he's still the baby. If I can only carry one child, guess who always gets the privilege?

But what happens when baby number three comes along? Suddenly Gavin has lost the only advantage he has against his siblings. Is this where "middle child syndrome" starts?

Interesting thought.

Back to the issue at hand, though. Alright I think I baby Gavin just a little. Maybe I feel bad for him--maybe I connect with him because I, too, am the second child. Or maybe I just got soft with this one. Seriously, I forgot everything I did with Evelyn. It was like having a first baby all over again. Anyway, so here we are, Gavin is 16 months old, still nursing to sleep for nap and bedtime, and it suddenly occurs to me that it's time to end it. Actually it was on my Christmas trip to Ottawa--probably from my mother's influence--that I resolved to completely wean him when we got back. I realized that now isn't any worse a time than some undertermined future moment, so may as well. I gave him a few days of grace upon returning from our trip, to get back into routine, but today I thought, "This is it. Today is the day. You will not be fed to sleep."

Know how it went?

Easy.

Sometimes I worry about nothing. Nap time was a snap, but I knew it would be, because if you wait long enough they're so tired they'll fall asleep instantly anyway. The real test was bedtime, because I wasn't prepared to let him wander around till 9:00 just so I didn't have to deal with any protests. I laid his blanket out on his bed, wrapped it gently around him (at which point he whined a little when he realized what I was up to), rocked him for about one minute until his eyes had been closed for a bit, then laid him down. Predictably, he instantly burst into offended tears. But I calmly walked down to my living room, looked at the clock, turned on the radio, and sat on the couch to wait. After five minutes he stopped, started up again at the ten minute mark, and was out by fifteen.

That was it.

So...yeah. Gavin's weaned. And...it was ridiculously easy. There's a clear message here:

It was time.

I guess this means my baby is officially not a baby...

Love,

Jacqui