Well, Adam is finally off the sauce...the boobie milk sauce that is. He just kind of gave it up, hasn't asked for it in two days and I am okay with that. I truly expected there to be some sort of ceremonial last feed or something, but I can barely remember feeding him last. I really did not think we would go 15 months, especially at the beginning when it was so painful and so hard. I am proud of myself for sticking to it, even when I wanted to throw in the towel. I enjoyed that part of Adam's babyhood, but I am ready for it to be over. If he can eat salad with a fork, he can drink milk from a cup, am I right?
All my life I thought I'd be the perfect mother. I even majored in it. I aced all the child development classes I took toward my degree in, wait for it, Early Childhood Development and Elementary Education.
And then they were born. First Jacob, who is 8, then Adam, who is 4, and our biggest surprise, Elizabeth who is 2.
As much as I really wanted to be, I am finding out I am no June Cleaver. For starters, The Beav never had a baby sister.