Conor turns 3 next week.
We are about completely out of pullups. Last night was the easiest poopie on the potty yet. And the cheers continue with the "I DID it!!!" raising of the arms in victory after the big poop. And that's just Dave.
I've been waiting to make that joke for a while now.
We had our first overnight underwear and we were surprised with wet sheets this morning, but I think that is going to be the rare event. He's been dry most nights for the last month. We just see the end in sight.
Speaking of endings, have you been wondering what's up with the boobs lately? You must be because I have not spoken of them. Well, we are thisclose from total wean. We're down to about 10-20 seconds per boob at night followed by half a mini-bagel and water while I rock him. Mini-bagels have indeed turned into his comfort food: yesterday he fell and hit his lip and wanted a bagel to soothe him.
I know we've been bfing for a long time for Americans, but it has worked for us. It was the right thing for our family. I'd say that pretty soon we'll just be at the bagel and not at boobie. I don't think I will be sad about it. I know of Moms who are very sad when they stop bfing. I think we've gone past that point and we/I are just ready for snuggles and cuddles without bosomies involved.
Oh, and on a somewhat different note, did you see the article yesterday in the NY Times about how children cause parents to cut back on their exercise? One look at my butt could have told you that. It was hardest when Conor was really young and I couldn't leave the house for any distance of a run because he was solely breastfeeding. Some running women would get up, pump, and then go for their run. I was too damn lazy to do all that work, so I got out of my running habit for his first year or so and I've never really gotten back into it. (Hence why my booty is the size of Rhode Island). Dave is still in shape although like the article says, he doesn't exercise nearly as much. Still, he's thin and I'm huge. And even when I'm running more than he is, he can beat me on our regular route.
Since I'm not convinced I'm going to have another biological child, I've decided to just go ahead and get back into shape even if I am "running" my old routes slower and with more walking than I'd like. If I don't start doing it, I'll never get back to the place I'm supposed to be. And my butt will continue to grow until I have to go buy another closet full of bigger Mom jeans. And who wants that?