Thursday, March 25, 2010

Bin it

We've had an epic week, due mainly to one small thing. One tiny little thing that happened this morning. It took 10 seconds and it has changed my spud's life. This morning - this spring morning - my son walked up to the rubbish bin, opened it, and threw in his last baby bottle. And I, I didn't rescue it.

I mean, I probably still could. I could rummage in there and dig it out and boil it and sterilise it and scrub it a few more time and buy a new nipple and it could see another day but no, sadly for the planet, this bottle is land fill. OK so I may put it in the plastic recycling.

I know, I know he's three and a half and should have lost the bottle two years ago or more but he's not really bonded with a teddy or a blanket or a comforter of any sort, he goes to sleep cuddling his bottle and I think his relationship with it is less about the milk and more about the shape and feel of it.

Recently he's been drinking his night-time milk out of a cup but he still occasionally really wants the bottle and we've been letting him have it. Last night he woke up incoherent. He wanted something but didn't want to say what it was - he was moaning and saying 'I just, I just, I just want, I want... my I want my...'. I knew what he wanted and that he knew he wasn't supposed to ask. He went back to sleep but around 7:30 he got into our bed and he said 'I just want to hold it Mummy, I just want to hold my bottle'.

I told him he could have one last milk and then he had to throw it away and bless him, he did. I could almost hear the funeral march as he walked into the kitchen.

As a reward we're going tomorrow to see his good friend Einstein for lunch and possibly a day in the park, something I'm looking forward to enormously as I've not seen Einstein's Mummy for a month and she always makes me laugh like a train.

She is also somehow involved in this extravaganza for kids which is at the Clapham Grand from 2-5 on Saturday - £10 for a sing and dance-a-thon, face painting and massage for Mums; sounds like a blast.

We'll probably miss it, I feel as though this weekend I'd quite like to spend extra time with my boy as he takes his first steps completely free of the last accoutrements of babyhood. He might need a few cuddles, and me, I'm planning on being in range.


ThatGirl39 said...

Aw... it's always momentous when they get rid of the last remnants of their babyhood - mixed feelings! I think SC's "Moo Cow" blanket comforter will be around for a while yet! x

Sparx said...

ThatGirl - funnily enough, the spud sleeps under my old Pooh Bear blanket that was the closest thing I had to a comfort object at that age... Blankets are made to be kept.

Peter John Godwords said...

Evidently my great-nephew's progression to maturity and wisdom is on track. Thanks to his brilliant and beautiful mother's wisdom, we can hope that in ten years he will escape with a minimum of the mammary fascination that plagues most hormonal teenage boys.
However, in fifteen years his great uncle may wish to introduce him to another bottle, brewed with great skill in a garage in Victoria.

Sphinx said...

In so many ways we watch the development of our children with mixed joy and trepidation. We can't wait for them to reach the next milestone, but each milestone passed is a step closer to independence, and a diminishing (overt) need for mummy.
I rescued my second child's dummy from the dumpster, only for her to find it about a year later and put it straight back in her mouth!
My grandson adores his (very raggedy) teddy bear. All three of my children had 'security' blankets, and transfered affection to bears a little later. They stll have their bears (and my oldest is nearly 40!)
Enjoy your weekend with your precious boy.

Sparx said...

Peter - flattery will get you everywhere, dear Uncle... and introducing him to your homebrew in 15 years is surely on the agenda... although did he not have a sniff of said substance aged about 14 months?

Sphinx - really, a year later she still wanted it! I've not rescued the bottle, I fear for the repercussions... and my bears are still in my parents' cellar... I may have to bring them home with me next time, you've made me feel dreadful all of a sudden for not having them!

Lisa @ Boondock Ramblings said...

It's a big step! And it can be scary for him and for you. I think that cuddling will be needed this weekend, that's for sure.

Sparx said...

Lisa - so far so good! He's not been tearful about it at all... maybe he knew he was ready?

Gringa-n-Mexico said...

Wwwww sparx, that's just. . . well I don't know. It's just terribly sweet :) Good for him, the lil big boy :)

Sue said...

I need me a Mum massage. *sigh*

Sue said...

Hit Publish too soon. Just wanted to send the Spud-boy some applause for being such a "boro dada" (literally "older brother" and Babble for "big boy").

Muddling Along Mummy said...

Well done you both - great that you waited until he was ready rather than rushing him

Hope you had a good weekend together

Sparx said...

Muddling Along - thanks! We did and we've not looked back, he's been happy without the bottle ever since; perhaps he really was ready.