Weaned

I have been weaning Frankie for several weeks now, gradually cutting out a feeding about every 10 days or so. She *amazingly* decided that she was willing to take a bottle once more, so she nows gets a bottle in the morning and at night. She gets the rest of her formula from a sippy cup throughout the day.

I wanted to mark our last nurse purposefully, more for me than for her, so that I could enjoy that last time of special closeness with my daughter, an official passing of a stage and chapter in our lives. The last nurse was to be tomorrow, on her 9 month birthday.

We'd been down to one feeding for a while, the 4:30/5:00 feed that was always really more about comfort than food. I've been dreading eliminating this feeding, because it turns my fussy child into a content baby for about 45 minutes or so, which is enough time for me to prepare dinner or get us home from Heather's.

Apparently, in order to prove to me that you really can't have one specific event that mark when a child moves from one stage to another (as much as we like to invent them, it seems to always be much more of a gradual process), Frankie refused to nurse on Saturday for the first time since she was about a month old, thus making Friday, November 9th the last day I nursed my daughter.

I'm a little sad that I didn't get to make it to my pre-determined day. I planned on savoring every moment, allowing myself to shed a few tears for my big girl and how quickly she's growing up. But in a lot of ways it makes it easier for me. I didn't feel guilty today when I didn't nurse her, where I might have if I had been the one to initiate the last nurse, feeling like I was denying her something she loved. Feeling tempted to nurse her one more time, just to make today easier, just to stop the fussing and my guilt.

It's hard to give up such a bond with my baby, but it's an important step for us. People wean for all kinds of reasons, and I've found in talking with other moms that it's almost always a difficult decision and process. Life is a continual letting go for parents, and making decisions that are hard, and sometime painful, but for the best for both of them.

I'm reminded of when Frankie was first born, and she refused to nurse at first. She actually didn't know how to suck when she came out (something all the experts promise you is an innate skill, apparently not for Frankie). We spent a very painful first 10 days finger-feeding, bottle feeding, and (for me, anyway) pumping. I would try and get her to latch and feed everyday during this time, and for a few days there she would give it a go, but clearly liked the bottle better.

In a decision that was terrifying for a new mother, we decided that she needed to learn to nurse, and that I wasn't going to break down and give her a bottle for 24 hours. Babies that young can easily get dehydrated, and I was worried that she wouldn't eat. During the course of one night, I offered her the breast every time she cried, and eventually by the morning we were covered in milk and tears, but she was latching just fine. I remember it being so hard, and thinking that this would be one of the first of countless times that I would have to say no to my daughter and encourage her to go another way because I knew it was a better way for her.

Our Pastor has said that the two things kids desperately need to hear from their parents is "No" and "I love you". It's been remarkable to me how being a parent, even for such a short time, has given me a new perspective on my relationship with God the Father. I am ever amazed with the perfection in which he tells me "No" and "I love you". I pray often for that kind of wisdom in raising my child.

A serious conversation

We were given a lot of stuffed animals when Frankie was born. Up until recently, I'd been wondering what were were going to do with all those stuffed animals, but she has recently shown a great interest in those animals. Many of you have seen Frankie telling secrets to her toys, or the piece of fuzz on the carpet, but recently she has started to become more animated in her dealings with the stuffed animals. She gets very serious during these conversations, and I like to think it's because she's reprimanding a bear who has stepped over the line (possibly eyeing her Cheerios with a little too much interest), or is giving the bear a warning (don't do drugs, or else). In the following video, this bear must have really done something awful, she even throws him to the dog at the end.

The snacker

Frankie is a carb-o-haulic. She loves Cheerios. And corn chex. And pizza crust. And
toast. It's like she's got a special compartment for these types of snacks that never quite seems to fill up. Fortunately, Cheerios are her favorite, and that is not the worst food for her to be addicted to. They're cheap, plentiful, portable, and healthy. I am a little concerned we're breeding a snacker, but we'd probably breed one anyway. She was born into a family of champion snackers.

The most annoying toy in the house

Is also Frankie's favorite.


It plays a soundtrack that sounds like old-school Atari music. Air blows through the canisters making the toys spin, hop, and whir. And she loves it.

Frankie is quite the crawler now, and has learned to pull herself up. The last two mornings we've found her standing up in her crib, ready for a day of adventure (which, unfortunately for us, starts at 5:30 am). She's a very cautious mover on the whole - she doesn't like to be out of control (really? my child?). We worked really hard on the sitting-back-down-after-I-stand-up maneuver on Sunday, and she'll do it now, although not without almost a full split and a very slow lowering to the ground using whatever she's holding on to.

Here's a video of the most annoying toy in action, although watch it at your own risk. I've warned you, it's annoying...

Peek a Boo

This is from a while ago, but it's still great!

Halloween '07

Frankie was a cowgirl this Halloween. Here she is all dressed up and ready to go to her first Halloween party! The Polks hosted a baby-bash (I think the count was 20 kids, mostly babies under the age of 1). The weather was unexpectently warm - it was about 70 degrees, and with all those people at the Polks, it got quite warm in the house. Most of the babies were stripped down to their onesies before the night was through. Unfortunately, on Halloween itself, Frankie was sick, so we didn't dress her up again. She actually went to bed at 6:00 that night, so did not participate in any trick or treating. Not that she can eat the candy anyway!

Mommas don't get sick days

I knew this day would arrive, the one where I was sick, sick, sick, and still had to take care of Frankie. Of course, Frankie's sick too, and so wants her momma 24-7. I came down with a severe sore throat on Tuesday afternoon that felt like strep. Chris came home from work early on Wednesday, and I went to the Doctor, which was a complete waste of time. It took 2 hours in total, and the resident that I saw (please, no offense to the residents who read this blog and whom I love, I would have gladly seen any of you) was a complete moron. So I went home with instructions to gargle salt water, wishing I'd saved my $20 co-pay and taken a nap instead.

Turns out I don't have strep, which is a good thing, but the virus we've had instead has been a dosey. Frankie's temperature spiked yesterday at 102, so she's definitely fighting something herself. We both seem better today, but it's been exhausting to try and take care of a sick child and myself. I have many close friends here who were more than happy to help, but I haven't wanted to expose anyone to this, so we've just been surviving. My house is a mess, I feel behind at work and in my class, but I have to keep remembering that this too shall pass.

Sick baby