So, if you're my friend on fb then you know that this was the week I decided to move dr b out of my room (not my bed, my friends, calm now....), and into his big boy room and his much roomier crib.
My heart hurt.
My tummy was in knots.
My eyes were all welled up.
He looked so tiny.
And the crib was ever-expansive.
I nearly rationalized our way out of this messy weaning process.
But no. I was committed.
Mostly for other selfish reasons, like ensuring e did not come barging into our room ONE MORE TIME waking dr b up from his slumber and thus starting my juggling act earlier than necessary.
No. Having dr b in his own room would mean, I am hoping, that he would get to sleep more peacefully and I will get to enjoy this fact.
However; this whole weaning thing sucks ass, people.
For people like me who used to cry at the summer's end when I knew that I was either going back to work or school and jb was doing the same and our summer of fun and bliss and all that would be no longer.
Me and change are like oil and water.
But it's actually much more than that really.
With e things seemed to move a lot slower, though my feelings were equally intense (it is me we're talking about, right?! I mean come on!)!
But the phases seemed to be longer and everything about her first year seemed to, in retrospect, move slower.
Even jb was surprised when I woke up one day and said it was time to move dr b out. He thought it was way sooner than we had done it with e.
Nope I said. It was the exact same time: beginning of the school year. In fact, it was actually, considering their two week birthday difference, a bit later for dr b.
But with child number two everything seems to have amplified and sped itself up. Not being able to nurse after eleven weeks broke me. His smiles break me.
The fact that he will be six months in three days....breaks me.
With e, I did not consider future children. I was all about her. She was my world.
With dr. b, I do. I also think, there is a chance this might be it. And so every new phase, every new 'wean' is more intense to me. I think, this special moment might be the last. Having my little infant sleeping soundly and safely at my side in this moment, well it might be the last time I get to experience this joy.
And it is a joy.
I love being mother and protector. I love the idea that I've created a womb-like safe and secure environment for my children in my room, in our home, etc.
And with every change, every growth, I feel like the umbilical cord is stretching. And it's not they who are suffering or suffocating from this reality, it's me.
Can one have empty nest when her kids are still two and under, I wonder?
Anyhow, suffice it to say, that first of all I don't do change all that well; though I do know that change is a good thing and that there are many good things to come.
Just know that I am loving every moment (except those brief colicky periods--ew!) of my baby's infancy and I just want to hold the moments and memories so tightly that they don't ever get forgotten or disregarded.
I know that I am a lucky woman.
And I know my babes are precious.
And I know, second time around, how great the phases are, and how fast they move...
Every moment feels like another wean has to take place: from womb, from boob, from bedroom, from bottle, from home...sigh. I just want to wrap my babes up, hold onto their baby stages as long as I can, and keep them as all mine for a little longer before the world gets at them.
I love their innocence. I love their beauty. I love this whole experience.