Breast Obsessed Maniac!

Here come the holidays! Mira is home this week, which is always both a bane and a boon. She's taking vacation days this week, which she has to do for her job, because annoyingly, she will work most of next week during the holidays, due to her lack of seniority at her job. Oh well. But anyway, the crux of our issue here is that Teague at 17 months is still, let's say, a vigorous nurser. I mean, this kid loves the breast. He nurses standing up, lying down, kneeling, any which way he can. He sometimes dive-bombs one breast like some ill-fated kamikaze pilot, while simultaneously twiddling the nipple of the other breast. It's the nipple manipulation where Mira draws the line, and as the Dad, I have to say it can be somewhat disturbing to witness, and to think, that somehow, I'm kind of in competition for this territory. When she's home for an extended period, he begs her to nurse at something like 15 minute intervals all day long! It makes Mira crazy, and makes her question continuing nursing at all.

Anyway, aside from what Mira has to deal with, with Teague almost constantly begging her to nurse, is my own annoyance with her questioning parts of my daily routine. "Did he eat yet? What did he eat? Did he get vegetables? Should we give him a bottle? Don't you think it's a little late for his nap?" Somehow I managed to survive almost 5 months taking care of the child and, SURPRISE, I didn't even seriously injure him! But then, I reconsider, and I guess I understand that she has the same concerns that I do, and just wants him to be well- also, I have to consider that while I'm sure she feels happy and confident earning the money for our household, she probably also has some instinctual need to be responsible for some part of the mothering, and to ensure that Master Teague gets all the love and care he needs. The funny part is, that I really feel like I naturally do a better job as a caretaker and housekeeper. I mean, we won't have this arrangement forever, but I look back on when Mira was full time with Teague, and she was kind of helpless at times. She could barely give him a bath because she'd freak out every time he'd squirm or cry, which was every time, and she could hardly get him dressed or into a diaper without shouting into the next room for my assistance.

Well, all that is over, and sadly, I'm almost half way through my own tenure as stay-at-home dad. Teague is loving the Christmas lights. He loves to point at every earthly object, as if requesting the names all things to make them real. We communicate through babbles and grunts. He's trying to run, plays make believe, and flirts with the ladies. He's got a huge bruise on his big pumpkin noggin from when he fell down outside and hit his skull on the ground with a solid "thwack" that I could hear when it happened. This made me so sad, that he could be hurt like that, even though there was little I could do. Tomorrow we are having friends over to the house to sing carols for the holiday season, Jews, Christians, and anyone else are invited. I am going to stumble along on the piano like a fool, but if I'm careful and don't have too many drinks during the warm-up period, I might just do alright.