Joey: 2 1/4 (and thoughts on weaning the fourth time around)

It's time for an overdue quarterly update on Joe. I am amazed at how much he's changed even since he turned two. I just love this age on him. He is hilarious with the things he says and does, makes "duck lips" when he pouts, thinks Tim's truck is a "monser truck", and gives the best hugs.

For the record, he is still in diapers and still in a crib. He wears 2T clothing and size 7/8 shoes (cutest little feet ever!). He takes a nap every afternoon for two to three hours, and is in bed every night from about 7:30 to maybe 6 or 6:30. He is not asleep that whole time. He usually cries for me at least once to come cover him up again. (The weighted blanket is heavy, but it maybe, possibly helps him sleep as long as it's on.) Still, we're in a lot better place than we were around the time he turned two. Are we out of the woods yet? I dare not say.

He is getting to be quite the little chatterbox, and he's been starting to use phrases and sentences more. "What time is it?" is his latest favorite. He likes to assert his opinions loudly. This past Sunday in Mass he declared right at Communion time, "No Jesus. Not like-a Jesus."😬 Last night when he was in the bath, I was being silly and acting like I was about to get in with him fully clothed. He said, "No, Mama." I said, "Why not?" "Clothes off."

Bathtime is his favorite. Unlike the other kids who regularly skip a day or two, Joey doesn't miss a night of taking a bath, and sometimes he gets more than one a day if he's had a messy enough diaper (since he is intact and pulling back the foreskin to clean is a big no-no). He'll sit there till the water is ice cold if I let him, filling up the cup, dumping it out, putting the cars in the cup, lining the cars up on the edge of the tub, etc. He hates it when I wash his hair, so I only do that once every few days.

He was getting so fast on his Strider Bike before we moved. I can't wait till he gets it back. He was riding it to the playground and back, and coasting down the little hills.

In the midst of all the chaos of the last month or two, we've reached a big milestone: he is completely weaned as of March 18. And I was (am) OK with it! I didn't get depressed for days like last time, even though I was more apt to since I'm only becoming more sentimental the older I get, and that much less willing to let go of the babyhood of my littlest. I applied the lessons I'd learned from weaning Timmy and did it a lot differently this time. We were already down to just one session, the bedtime one, for several months. Dropping that last session was a big deal to me though, so I had to take it slow. First I started to mention to him frequently at bedtime, that he was getting too big to nurse and we'd be all done soon. I don't know if he understood that at all. This was January or February. In the back of my mind, a deadline was looming; we'll be leaving all the kids with Tim's parents while we go to Quantico for about a week at the end of this month and beginning of May. To say I found this daunting would be a huge understatement.

Then I tried testing the waters, omitting nursing from the bedtime routine. If I distracted him by maybe talking about something, or having someone else come into the room, he'd forget and go to sleep OK. But more often than not, he'd say, "Nurse!" if I tried taking him straight to bed after we'd looked out the window and said goodnight to the ferris wheel and the tree and whatnot. If he requested to nurse, I'd nurse him.

That went on for a couple weeks, and then I started to get more intentional. For two nights in a row, we'd skip nursing, and I'd either distract him and he'd forget or if he remembered, I'd say, "It's not a nursing night." He only got upset once, and between Tim and me, we managed to soothe him. Then the third night I'd nurse him. I worried that this would confuse him, but forged ahead anyway. Dropping it cold turkey like a bad habit the way I'd done with Timmy, hadn't worked out at all for me at all, emotionally or physically. It takes awhile before the milk factory gets the message to shut down, so this gradual approach was mostly for my benefit, I admit. Fortunately he adjusted to this schedule with minimal fuss.

Then I stretched it to every third or fourth night, with him sometimes remembering to ask but most of the time not. I told Tim that I was sure we'd be done for good once we moved out of the house and into the hotel, and we were in new surroundings; and I was right. He forgot all about it and that was that. I feel relieved and a bit wistful whenever I think about it, but all the distractions and busyness of the past several weeks have been good for my coping. Nothing else has changed -- he's still my baby. Whenever he wants to be held or to snuggle up to me, I just drink him in, more grateful than ever for those moments.