tomorrow morning i will be a plane. to california. to spend time with two of my very favorite ladies ever. i am excited to see them. talk with them. run with them. have a cocktail. watch the sunset. and just be for a bit. but i am also freaking out. i have never left my babies for more than maybe five hours at a clip. ever. and that hasn’t happened very often. i have no doubt m will take wonderful care of them. it has nothing to do with her parenting skills. it is my paranoia. about everything. hook was over 4 before i left him for a night. at first it wasn’t intentional but the longer i didn’t leave him the harder the prospect became. but now here i am. leaving the wigglers at 16 months. will they notice? probably not much. i will leave before they wake up. and be back on monday afternoon. really it isn’t too long. some circumstances have arisen that necessitate another trip away though. next weekend. another friday to monday adventure to the opposite cost. this one much less joyful. but necessary. i am panicking. about this weekend. and next weekend. and not hearing baby babble. and giggles. or getting hugs. i know i sound ridiculous. but panic isn’t rational. so i will just have to embrace it. hope for the best. enjoy myself. and i will be home again before i know it.
weaning. cindy lou gave up on the boob months ago. before a year. she appreciated the efficiency of a bottle and really who can blame her for that. but my boy. my sweet sweet boy. he has held on. usually only for one or two feeds a day. generally before bed. or when he wakes at night. and on occasion during the day he will come and sit on my lap. and sign milk and pull at my shirt. all okay. i hoped to breastfeed for a year. anything after that was a bonus. (or a burden depending on your perspective). but it has continued. we are past sixteen months. there have been days where he doesn’t breastfeed at all. seems unconcerned about it. and sleeps well. but other days it is like he has heard the news that i might be closing up shop. and he is frantic. wanting me to hold him. nurse him. love him. all day long. tough to do with twins. but i indulge as much as i can. which brings us to now. i am okay with continuing to breastfeed my boy. happy about it even. but i am going away for a few days. next weekend. i am headed to big sur. to run up and down big big big hills. with amazing people. without my children. any of them. the first time i left hook overnight he was over four. the wigglers are 16 months. the original plan was a trip away right before their first birthday. but then i went and broke my knee cap. whoops. so we haven’t had to deal. and now we do. magoo nursing. me leaving. i don’t have much of an intention to pump. not sure it would yield much. so i am not sure what to do. or where we will be. but it is indeed where we are. my boy who still looks to me for comfort. reassurance. maybe some bit of sustenance (though doubtful). that i will not be able to provide for a few days. not sure where we will be when i return. i have no doubt he will be fine. okay. happy. fantastic. in m’s care. but i am still worried he will feel rejected. alone. like i set him off to suffer alone. i guessing i should have tried to make this weaning thing happen a little sooner…
babies don’t listen. seriously. they don’t or they do but they could care less. and kids they aren’t much better. so nowadays i do a lot of talking. to myself. and i’m okay with it. magoo loves to throw food to the dog. (or the visiting dog who spent a week with us) and laugh and laugh. and laugh. he shakes his head no as he does it. but continues unabated. cindy lou who pushes toys up to the table. the couch. or the side of the baby corral. and hops up. or out. also while shaking her head no. and laughing. so get it yet. caring. not so much. and mr. hook. the one who should have enough sense to get it also is incredibly blessed with volition. his choice to do whatever he would like. and much of that time that is to only half listen to me.
i get it. i don’t want to listen to me all that much either. both hook and i have a tendency to say to the wigglers “no no hippo. it’s not safe to play that way” from a book we read. i like it. and it works.
i spend much of my day averting disaster. and trying to feed my small humans a plethora of good foods. and less sand. and lots of water. and love. they seem to be flourishing. speech is coming slowly but i am unconcerned. they understand just about everything we tell them. and they babble back and forth incessantly. a few words are eeking out. and in due time they will clarify i have no doubt. magoo is obsessed with buses and dogs. we walk hook to the bus in the morning and magoo jumps up and down waving and blowing kisses to the bus. i think hooks driver must be smitten. i mean seriously who is ever that excited about a big yellow school bus. and cindy lou loves birds. she signs bird over and over. and she is enjoying spending time in the ke.lty backpack. mommy has learned it is way easier to chase one baby down the street than two.