Movin' on up

I can't hear you, I can't hear you, I can't hear you, I'm not listening...

These are the words that my motherly insticts are saying while I'm trying to tell them that the time has come to wean Giddie.

(I think I prefer the 'ie' ending to the 'y' ending, what about you?)

Yep. It's true. He's ten and a half months, get's up on all fours while nursing, to watch the other kids, and LOVES to eat real food. It's official. I am closing this chapter in my life. And yes, it makes me very sad.

As I have mentioned before, nursing babies has never come easy for me. But I do it. And in the end, I love it. It starts out bad, I always want to quit, and then I'm sad when the time comes to wean. I think I feel most sad that my babies have to grow up. And this being my last, makes it even more of a heart ache for me.

But I know it's time for both of us to move on. He's ready, and I'm ready to start working on my own physical well being. Things aren't pretty 'round these parts, if you know what I'm sayin'? Okay. Fine. A per usual, when I wean each child, I weigh the exact same as I did the day I delivered them. So here I am again, staring at losing a WHOLE lot of weight. But this time? This time? I won't have to put all the weight on again with another baby. This may ACTUALLY be the last time I have to fight this battle. (the huge up and down on the scale, that is) For me, baby weaning and weight loss go hand in hand. Wish me luck!

Since I am going out of town soon, the timing is perfect. He is taking a bottle well, and I think even a bit happier to be on the go with a bottle. I am just nursing first thing in the morning. I love this time with him. I love to hear him jabbering away down the hall, then get him out of his nice warm bed, all rosey cheeked and cuddlie. I bring him into my bed, having opened the blinds just a bit, and lay down with him. I love the closeness and the quiet time together. This is only possible, of course, because I run around getting the big boys out the door, breakfast for the littles, a show on so after eating they'll watch T.V., before I scoop little Gideon out of his bed, ensuring that they won't be up jumping all over the bed with us. And even then, it's not a guarantee.

For several weeks now, he has been giving me the signs that he is ready. Most of the feedings of the day he is too busy pulling off and looking at the constant commotion of our home to get much of meal anyway. And he's on to solids. Really on to solids. He LOVES food. He'd eat a steak if I'd let him. (which means I'd have to find one that I trust in this area of the world, which I can't - three months and I am going to eat A LOT of steak! And LOTS of other things too...) He loves yogurt, raisins, crackers, cheese, green beens, canned mandarin oranges, apples and BANANAS. He loves his bananas. I didn't have any luck finding baby food in this country. I brought about two months worth with me when we moved and had my parents bring a little to Europe with them last fall. So we had store bought for about six weeks, then I made my own. Five kids, and I have never officially made baby food - totally by choice. Didn't Gerber put a cute baby on the front so I would trust them? Duh. It worked. Why would I make my own when I can buy it? I know, it's cheaper to make it, but I always found a way to pay for jarred baby food. Until now, when I have had NO other choice. Luckily, we're out of that stage. Hooray!

Anyway. We're movin' on up around here. The winds of change are here and I am quite ready for them. Now, if only I could potty train Chach....