The Wee Boy and I both survived our first time away from each other. He has had a handful of sleepovers over the past few months, but this was the first time I was gone for him for more than an overnight -- and this was four overnights and five full days. And, yes, I am still nursing, so it was a little rougher on both of us.
But repeat the first sentence: we survived.
Apparently, he slept fairly well for the in-laws, who flew in from Texas to spend the long, long weekend with him, while David and I attended a wedding in the Bahamas. Last night, of course, he paid me back for my four great nights of hotel sleep by waking up every 30 minutes to scream, "I want my Mommy," which made me feel both guilty and awake. So much for that lovely rested feeling I managed to achieve on the island.
I know, I know, it's good for both of us to spend some time apart. A year ago, I wouldn't have thought twice about leaving -- get me out of here was pretty much a daily thought. Nowadays, however, the Wee Boy is kind of my best little pal during the week. We hang out, we chat, we cook meals together, we go on walks, we collect leaves. On second thought, it sounds like we're dating, right? Maybe it was extra good that we spent some time apart...
Anyway, quick updates:
Potty training is going absurdly well. Not an accident since the first day of underwear several weeks ago. I know I'm jinxing it now because I've put him down for a nap in his underwear, not in a pull up. But he pulls his own pants up and down, and he always tells someone when he has to go. He even often wakes up in the night to go -- and honestly, I think that's always been part of his sleep troubles: that he wakes up every time he pees. I have done nothing special, so this is just further proof that there is no rhyme or reason to childrearing.
He didn't nurse for five solid days, and I wasn't sure if this was the end of our nursing or not. But the very first thing he said to me when I got home was, "May I have nursies, please?" So there's that. Apparently there is still milk in there, even though I only hand-expressed twice on vacation, and only for a minute or so because I forgot how much I hate expressing. So far today, he has nursed four times, which is twice as much as usual. I'd say he's making up for lost time, and he doesn't seem interested in cutting back.
We totally bribed him. The only thing that helped him stop crying when we FaceTimed was the promise of presents. "How many presents do you want?" "Four. Four BIG presents." You got it, kiddo. Anything you say. We are so so so so so sorry to have abandoned you!
But repeat the first sentence: we survived.
 |
| Look at us, all kid-free and stuff. |
Apparently, he slept fairly well for the in-laws, who flew in from Texas to spend the long, long weekend with him, while David and I attended a wedding in the Bahamas. Last night, of course, he paid me back for my four great nights of hotel sleep by waking up every 30 minutes to scream, "I want my Mommy," which made me feel both guilty and awake. So much for that lovely rested feeling I managed to achieve on the island.
I know, I know, it's good for both of us to spend some time apart. A year ago, I wouldn't have thought twice about leaving -- get me out of here was pretty much a daily thought. Nowadays, however, the Wee Boy is kind of my best little pal during the week. We hang out, we chat, we cook meals together, we go on walks, we collect leaves. On second thought, it sounds like we're dating, right? Maybe it was extra good that we spent some time apart...
Anyway, quick updates:
Potty training is going absurdly well. Not an accident since the first day of underwear several weeks ago. I know I'm jinxing it now because I've put him down for a nap in his underwear, not in a pull up. But he pulls his own pants up and down, and he always tells someone when he has to go. He even often wakes up in the night to go -- and honestly, I think that's always been part of his sleep troubles: that he wakes up every time he pees. I have done nothing special, so this is just further proof that there is no rhyme or reason to childrearing.
He didn't nurse for five solid days, and I wasn't sure if this was the end of our nursing or not. But the very first thing he said to me when I got home was, "May I have nursies, please?" So there's that. Apparently there is still milk in there, even though I only hand-expressed twice on vacation, and only for a minute or so because I forgot how much I hate expressing. So far today, he has nursed four times, which is twice as much as usual. I'd say he's making up for lost time, and he doesn't seem interested in cutting back.
We totally bribed him. The only thing that helped him stop crying when we FaceTimed was the promise of presents. "How many presents do you want?" "Four. Four BIG presents." You got it, kiddo. Anything you say. We are so so so so so sorry to have abandoned you!
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