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If you are a mother then you know about the guilt. The guilt that accompanies every decision you make, every action you take (every cake you bake), every time you lose your patience, every time your child cries – you know what I mean. If you’re a dad? You don’t feel the guilt. You assume you’re doing an okay job, which is probably true, and you see no reason to feel bad about shit.  And you probably don’t understand it either. My husband has no idea WHY I feel guilty and keeps trying to convince me not to. If only moms could be LOGICAL, Spock Jason.

So yeah. Guilt. GUILT GUILT GUILT. That’s what I’m feeling this week. This day. This hour. I am simultaneously sleep training and weaning Simon. Could I be a bigger asshole? I know. Really I do. But it’s time. For both. I am weaning slowly, in case you were wondering, but still. Man. The little tyke. He is so mad about it. He has become so clingy that if I put him down for one second he flips out. If I finally convince him to sit on the floor next to me and play but then I walk away (like to PEE because EVEN MOMS HAVE TO DO THAT) he screams and follows me. But… I need to be back on my medication. The time has come. I (and my husband) have put up with my depression for three and a half years now because that is how long I have been either pregnant or breastfeeding. OMG you guys. That’s a long time to be breasting or nesting! At one point I was doing both at the same time! Lordy. So yeah. I want my body to be mine again. I want to chew on Wellbutrin like candy until I feel like my old self again.

With Louisa the weaning wasn’t so difficult.  First of all, she has never been clingy (probably because of the ASD) and second, we just weaned her to a bottle and voila. Simon WILL NOT take a bottle. At all. Oh he’ll hold it. And play with it. And bite on the nipple. But he won’t drink from it. So that’s out. Plan B is to just slowly get rid of a feeding here and there until they dwindle down to nothing. After two and a half weeks he is only getting one before sleep at night and one in the middle of the night. Nothing during the day. And yeah. He is not happy. Periodically when sitting on my lap he will just dive-bomb/motorboat me. It’s fantastic. But it is slowly happening. I figure by the end of the weekend he’ll be completely off. And I will dance a jig. And then cry. Because whilst I am really looking forward to this whole no-baby thing, I am also very sad about it. No more babies. Ever.

The sleep training… has not been so gradual. But can it ever be? I know I’m a crazy person who sleeps with my babies (I’m not the only one, but still, we’re crazy people) but it makes the nighttime breastfeeding so much easier. About a month ago, though, it got to the point where he was waking more than sleeping and I sort of figured that it was because I was waking him up. Turns out I was right. I was dreaaaading doing this because with Louisa it was torrrrrture but it was seriously nothing. I shouldn’t be writing this on the internet because he is going to know that I told people and immediately start staying up all night but guys. The first night he fell asleep in 20 minutes, woke up once at like 1:30 for a feeding and then slept until 7 am. Two nights later he slept from 8:30 until 4:30, then went back down until about 5:45 and that’s been his MO ever since. Minimal screaming. Minimal drama. At night, that is. He is now refusing to nap because it takes him away from me and he can’t be away from me (see above re: super clingy baby). Basically I have to bounce/pat/cajole him to sleep on my shoulder and then wait until he’s way out to put him down. And still he’ll only stay out for 30 minutes. He used to be a solid napper. Two a day, at least 90 minutes a piece. I will trade the nighttime sleep for the naps, however. Because I get to sleep now! I mostly don’t though because I’m a dipwad who stays up way too late watching House of Cards with my husband and/or reading books and/or blogging but I could sleep if I wanted to (and probably should if the gigantic bags under my eyes are any indication) and that’s all that matters, right?