Weaning Me, Weaning You
I already tried to wean Mali two months ago, via the same technique as this past weekend--by leaving town for two nights. At that time neither of us were really ready. She screamed herself to sleep both nights, while I kept giving my hooters a poke to see if I was still lactating. When I got home I slapped her back on the tap, to the relief of us both.
Now it is two months later. She turned 23 months old the day before I left, and really was ready. Indeedy, so was I. I've had several weeks of her not-really-nursing to sleep at night. If you consider how sensitive nipples can be, then you can imagine how irritating it was to have a child absent-mindedly fiddling with them for an hour rather than giving them a good hard suck. It was driving me bats.
I was still worried about how Seymour would get her to sleep while I was gone, but it turns out I needn't have fretted. He kept Mali up until she was good and tired, then put her in our bed. She pulled the covers up to her chin, said, "Good night, Daddy!" and went to sleep. *Poof*
Last night was my first night getting her to sleep without letting her nurse. She didn't drop off like she did for her dad, but I must say that I've had much worse transition nights with both her older siblings. She never once asked to nurse. Instead she spent about an hour declaring, "It's dark!" to which I would respond, "Yes, Mali, it is very dark. Because it's time to go to sleep." There would be a sixty-second pause, then the loop would repeat. Finally she started getting fussy, which is what she usually does before dropping off. And then she drifted away, with her cloud of curls nestled against my neck.