Uppahand - Big Boy

Uppahand - Big Boy

Another fucking Heather.

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Big Boy	[Jul. 1st, 2008\|09:42 am]
Dylan is in training. He's up at the crack of dawn to drink his raw eggs. He's crawling up the steps of the Art Institute, jumping up and down in victory. If you listen carefully you can hear Eye of the Tiger playing in the distance, and if you close your eyes you will see a video montage of him getting stronger. I'm talking about sleep trainin', yo. Ferberizin'. It's going well--so well, in fact, that I'm kind of embarrassed about the amount of melodrama I build up surrounding this event. We're not out of the woods yet, but he is sleeping so much better. It's almost like he's been waiting for me to just put him in his damn crib already and back off with my irritating nursing and rocking and soothing and love. Anyway, now I will have have more time to ~~stalk Mariska Hargitay online~~ get some work done. Another advantage? Not having to check myself into the psych ward. Speaking of nursing, today was the last day. So for the first time since February 2007, my body is officially my own! Last night I was looking up weaning issues in one of my baby care books and they had all of these photos and illustrations of mothers nursing their babies, and the babies looked so sleepy and content and suddenly I was all sad and nostalgic and confused. As I nursed Dylan this morning, I was thinking about the first time I ever nursed him, how amazing it was that he knew exactly what to do. About how precious he looks when he falls asleep at the breast, about his sweet breastmilk baby breath. Suddenly, I was riddled with doubt. What were my reasons for wanting to wean again? And then the little chump bit me. BAM! Snapped me right out of that little Le Leche brain freeze. What else...oh, we're house hunting. In the suburbs. It's exciting, but it's far more stressful than they make it look on House Hunters. Suzanne Whang never does show up to pull it all together for you. I'm kind of having writer's block right now, so here are some pics of my boy. No, you can't have him. Showing off the mad crawlin' skills: Uncle Eric came all the way from Houston to teach D how to be a middle-aged gansta: These are a little old, but this was his most recent date with Mady. At first, things were a bit awkward: But then they found something to talk about. This led to hand-holding.... ...and then back to her crib.
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