In bed this morning, tucked under my toasty, sqooshy down comforter. Pouring rain outside, grey sky, and I am way too tired from last evening's carousing to think about running at all, let alone risk my neck jogging on wet, slippery leaves.
Seg comes stumbling in, heaves himself up onto the bed, and curls up next to me round about 5am. Thumb in mouth, arm wrapped around Mimi’s neck, he falls soundly asleep.
From his crib The Baby starts making his waking-up snuffling noises and I go get him, tucking him into bed next to me and Seg. He does the blind-mole head butt, and nurses. (Yes, I am STILL nursing him. I keep meaning to wean him but it really makes him happy, so I don’t have the heart. I promise I’ll wean him before I send him to kindergarten.) (Or college.)
Seg wakes up, and promptly, inadvertently, knocks me and then The Baby on the head with Mimi. Ouch.
Then he makes Mimi cry: “Waa waa!”
He looks at me. “She’s hungry. Waa waa!”
(I think, if he thinks *I* am going to nurse Mimi, he’s INSANE.)
But then he pulls up his shirt, smooshes Mimi’s face to his bellybutton, and pulls his t-shirt all the way over her head, trapping her securely against his body with the stretchy bottom of his shirt. (Why have I never thought to secure a nursing baby to myself this way? Think of how much I could accomplish with hands-free nursing. I’d have to be careful not to drag the dangling baby across the stove burners by accident, and I imagine such an arrangement would be a little tough on the poor baby’s delicate neck, but still – how useful would that be?)
And then – the best part? When he determines that Mimi is finished, he whips her out from beneath his shirt, proudly brandishing her by the neck and shouts, “TA DA!”
How cool is that?
Forget all those people who are uncomfortable with nursing mothers, breastfeeding in public, blah blah blah. I wish I had the guts to whip my kid off my breast and shout “Tada!” to the world at large. After all, breastfeeding a baby is one of the best things you can do for him/her, and it’s about damn time we all recognized – yeah, celebrated – that fact, with a self-congratulatory
“TA DA!”
TA DA!
9 comments:
TA DA! I'll celebrate with you.
Hee! We ta-dahed until the girl child was almost 3, at which point she could have said "ta da" afterwards her own self.
Bravo! Bravo!
Nurse that baby until he can successfully unbutton and then re-button your blouse when he's done. And then maybe even longer. He'll wean himself eventually, I bet.
Ah, not that I ever nursed. I wasn't lucky in that department - the kids were too old when they arrived.
And yes!
TA DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
The baby, your ute and your breasts all benefit.
I had an intelligent comment to make but got stumped by Mscellania's bit about your ute benefiting.
Ovah heah (that was for Joke), a ute is a pickup truck.
It took me a while, but I finally got what she was on about.
Ta Da!!!
Numbah One Son once latched on to me during the 3am feeding.
I resigned from La Leche league the very next morning.
-J.
Don't feel bad about not weaning.
Mine is still nursing and he turns four in February.
I am VERY slooowly weaning him. It will take at least another month, or longer.
If it weren't for my husband being upset about it, I would let him self-wean.
Ta Da!!! There are baby wraps you can wear that strap the munchkin safely to you and you can nurse discreetly, hands free.
www dot mamatoto dot org -- I put a link in to my comment, but it got removed.
Post a Comment