I need to get this off my chest...

The time has come. Ready or not...the baby is ready to wean. I've thought several times over the past year as to when I might like her to be done nursing. I had one of two responses: Now, and Never. She is just now 18 months old, and nurses strictly because I pin her down in the recliner and stick a boob in her face until she latches on. I think, perhaps, it is time to reevaluate this relationship.

I have been nursing, or just finishing nursing, or again beginning a nursing relationship for nearly 4 straight years. More than once, I have yearned for a lacy push up bra designed for no other reason that to be pretty. I've been desperate to sleep wearing nothing but a t-shirt and boxers. I've wanted to fly to Asia with my husband with not a thought to the nourishment of my offspring.
The other part of me would nurse these kids until puberty.

Alas, it is decision time. I am travelling solo to Sask. at the end of March. I very much do NOT want this to be the time when the baby discovers the ever-present boob is gone. I've considered taking her with me, as she has been my shadow for the past 18 months. But I've realized that I really need some time with just me and my Mom, and some serious doting time on my new niece without my trapeze-artist-in-training swinging from the light fixtures.

In the past, I've hauled my pump to every corner of the continent, but I think that too may be a thing of the past. I can't stand that thing, and the baby is not likely to be very fond of a bottle after not laying eyes on one for the past 6 months.

I never thought I'd be an extended breastfeeding kind of mom. I thought it seemed like the best thing to do, but once they're walking they could get their own sippy cup and I'd be off the hook.
Not so with this little monkey. She and I have really enjoyed this relationship, and I just never got around to ending it.

So is it time??? I dunno. I am the only one grappling with this decision. She seems perfectly fine. 48 hours and counting, and she is completely unfazed. Not a whimper, not a peep - not even that little grabbing thing she does at my shirt when I've made her wait too long.
I however, am not so sure. This seems too easy. Most mistakes are like that aren't they??? Really easy to make. Maybe not. Maybe a part of me wants her to be upset over this. Perhaps my aching chest and the lack of oxyblahblahblah is making me stupider than usual.

Speaking of my chest. Has anyone seen my breasts?? I knew they were here just a few years ago. I remember them well. Like two softballs perched there just tempting passersby to play with them. I didn't have any use for them then- they were merely something that had to be confined so I didn't get a black eye jogging.
Despite my knockers, I've never been (nor will I ever be) "bikini ready". I considered them a nuisance.
I should have been nicer to them.

They've now been well used, and they seem to have transformed. Gone are the softballs of yesterday, and instead, I am left with golf balls.....Two golf balls....At the bottom of two tube socks.
If I ever really get wise, I will quit bras altogether and just tuck them into my waistband. Save money, save time; possibly even motivate myself to get my belly flat so there's more room in my pants for my boobs.

For now, my tube-sock-swathed-golf-balls are a bit lonely, a bit confused, and a bit itchy ( I finally put on a real bra - not so comfy as I remember). We will have to see what the next chapter brings. I hope this baby knows what she is doing...