So I was describing my sleep training efforts to a friend, the one who came and got me at the emergency room when B's mole burst. I was telling her how the initial crying didn't bother me one bit. And then remembered how I looked on calmly and rubbed his hand while they stitched him up in the ER while she had to leave the room. I think I've come to the conclusion that, to all intents and purposes, I am, essentially, a guy.
I've always had a very masculine energy, but rather than it being tamped down as a mother, I think it's ramped up. It's because you have to be strong, you have to be both father and mother. And you can't just be helpless and hand things off to someone else. Being a mother has really challenged me emotionally and pushed a lot of my old buttons, but I have to say I'm gaining a lot of confidence as I tackle each of these things that scare or confuse me. The sleep thing has been HUGE. Having basically gotten my son to sleep through the night every night and as of tonight go down with not even so much as a whimper has made me feel like superwoman.
Today I attempted not wearing my little silicone nipple thingies for the first time ever. I probably could have stopped wearing them weeks ago but I just kept using them out of habit; then this morning as I was washing them I just thought, what the heck? I never leak, and with very little nursing my nipples don't hurt (as much) anymore. So I had a bit of an itchy day with my gross pilled nursing bra (I need to stop wearing those, too), and then a funny thing happened when I went to give the baby his dinner time nurse. He just held the nipple there in his mouth for a second, looked confused, and then turned away. I tried the other side, and it was the same. No interest. I could tell he was hungry so I got him a sippy cup of cow's milk, which he wolfed down. And we had a nice cuddle in the rocker watching TV while he drank. It's interesting to me that he rejected the nipple - they probably felt different and/or smelled different from not being encased behind silicone all day. But I did have that moment of, "is this it? Is he weaning himself?" A friend of mine described how one day her infant daughter just looked at the boob, patted it nicely, and walked away, as if to say "thanks for the good times." I will try for my usual morning nurse with B tomorrow and we'll see what he does. But if he's done, he's done. Part of me despaired a little at this, but then I had to remember that it has to happen sooner or later-! My little lad is growing up.
This week I bought each of the four original Mary Poppins books to someday read to B. These books were a HUGE influence on me when I was a kid, and I always dreamed of reading them to my own kids one day. I think my mother must have them in Brazil because I can't find them anywhere (and I am the keeper of all family heirloom type things), so I decided to find the original 1930s and 40s books online, which was not hard to do. The original Mary P was NOT a sweet, singing darling like in the movie. No sir, the real Mary is kind of a bitch, always ready with a nasty remark or back handed compliment (I remember driving my mother nuts with this when I tried to emulate MP when I was around ten). I think a great deal of MP still lives in me, honestly. I'll be fascinated to see what reading those books as an adult will be like!
I also plan on reading B the Chronicles of Narnia set and the Little House on the Prairie books. What are your childhood favorites that you want to read to your kids?