Not a game.
Yes, over here at the TST household, we've been practicing binkies and bottles. And it's driving the OCD, Mama-Bear instinct in me crazy at 2am when Matt tries to give her a bottle and she cries for more than 30 seconds. But I can fix that! Lemme at 'er!
NO. She needs to practice.
The binkies seem to help as she's making the transition. She's not fighting it as much anymore.
The trouble is, with all the stuff I dislike about nursing, there is one thing that's awesome (besides all the medical benefits of it and yada yada yada)...
...she needs me. Only me.
And she's all me. Every bit of her exists because of me.
Now, I know it's silly to think like this. Using a bottle from time to time doesn't mean she'll need me any less, you know? And she needs her daddy, too. I don't need a bottle now but I still need my Mom. I can't imagine her not being there to help me. So here I am, 32 years old, and I need her.
No bottle required.
But it's crazy once you become a mother. There's this nutty instinctual thing that just goes on and you know parts of it are irrational, yet you feel it nonetheless. And one of those things is that when I stop nursing, she won't need me anymore.
Silly, I know.
What she needs me to do is to be there for her and calm her down and hug her and support her. And that can be done long after the bottles are done.
What she needs me to do is set a good example of how to be a strong and intelligent woman.
So I'm trying to remember that. And we're practicing over here. She's practicing a bottle....and I'm practicing letting go enough to let her grow. And remembering that she can't do that without me, no matter what.