You may remember me blogging a while back about a Blog for which I was chosen to contribute – Polliwogged. Well, Polliwogged will soon be no more. I’ll leave it to Jeremiah to make the official announcement (coming sometime later this week – I think) but the end is near. It’s been a fun ride. I’m honored to have been part of such a neat project. The ZRecs Network will still be around so continue to check it out, for sure.
Ok, so that’s one era. The other? Breastfeeding. I’ve actually been meaning to blog about this for a while but I got side tracked with the Scarlet Fever and Big Barks and whatnot. Sabine *gasp* self-weaned about a month and a half ago. It started with her dsleeping through the night, then dropping her morning nursing session, then eventually the session before bed.
It was an altogether weird experience for me. The first night was good. I felt somewhat … free. I had a beer (or three) and went to bed. The second night was OK. The third night – I cried. I spent nearly 18 months defining my relationship with my child by this one thing that we shared. This one thing I could do for her that NO ONE else could. And now? Now we’re all equal. Mommy has nothing that Daddy doesn’t have. Well, except for maybe shaved legs and long hair. But, the Bean doesn’t care about those things.
So, now I have the girls back to myself … in their sad state. I never got those fantastic nursing boobs so it’s not like I had a lot of um, area to lose when Sabine weaned. It’s just that the texture is … different. Where my boobs once felt like they were full of pudding they now feel like they’re full of, hmmm, um, egg yolk. Yes. Egg yolk. And yes, I have been sitting here feeling my boobs in order to accurately describe their texture to you. Thank you very much.
There you have it (a letter opener) my era endings. Not very funny or thought provoking but it is what it is.