To Wean (v):

1) To forcibly deprive my precious baby* of his most favorite thing in the whole world;
2) To put an end to the chronic mastitis and FUCKING THRUSH which I have endured for ten months;
3) Both of the above, simultaneously.

The time has come, Dear Readers, to start weaning Tatoe.  (Perhaps you would think some previous time would also have qualified; you would be correct.) 

Even I don't know why I am still nursing, other than what my Nanna, may she rest in peace, would have called "sheer cussedness."  Actually, there is one good reason: despite being constantly ill, Tatoe has had only one ear infection, after riding on a plane.  At this point Bug had had EIGHT.  My theory is that the constant suction of breastfeeding clears it all out a bit.  Also that he doesn't get as dehydrated because he loves BOOOOB more than things-in-cups. (Don't even mention bottles; he throws them on the floor and screeches MAAAAH!)

My immune system has gone completely haywire.  In addition to all the other things I can't eat, I have also reacted to: brandy, white wine, peanut butter, soy, and some spice (probably nutmeg or cloves).   This has necessitated a startling array of antihistamines, a large amount of misery, and a high chance of surgery due to The MDR Sinus Infection That Won't Die.  

In consequence of all of the above, the rest of my body seems to also be freaking out.  My digestion and lady parts are both registering complaints, and I am deeply tired of dealing with it. 

So as soon as it gets above freezing, the kiddo is getting (slowly) cut off.  Bonus?  I can leave him with my parents after we move!  And go somewhere ALONE!  I haven't been ALONE in FOUR YEARS!!!! Do you have any idea how excited I am about this?  SO excited.

*Currently 17 months old, sporting ten teeth, and drinking from a straw cup.  He'll be fine, once he gets over the tragic disappointment at NO MORE BOOB.