Waning into weaning

While I am not yet quite ready to admit it, and my stubborn nature will insist I continue to try and reach the arbitrary goal of "1 year" which I set out for myself, I digress - it appears we may be inadvertently waning into a state of weaning.  The Oxford Dictionary defines wean as

"accustom (someone) to managing without something to which they have become accustomed to"

while Wiki is more specific in describing the process of weaning as:

the process of introducing a mammal infant to what will be its adult diet and withdrawing the supply of its mother's milk

Sound pretty harsh eh?  Well, yeah - and pretty sad too, considering where we started all those months ago.  Hours and hours of practicing, focus, trying, bleeding, crying and more trying.  Then we settled into a nice hum breastfeeding bliss where the feeder and feedie were generally on the same page, albeit the feedie could be somewhat demanding from time to time (the whole point in demand-breastfed I hear you say, so touche).

Well, that was then, and now is now, and now more closely resembles a mid-air refueling of a very antsy F16 in the middle of a dogfight ...

Breastfeeding an eight month old boy, nothing

more than a mere 'refueling' for more jumping!

Gone are the days of blissful breastfeeding, like a snuggly momma dog with her delighted pup...

...no, these days, despite having only one suckling, with only one tooth, I definitely resemble this poor momma dog more closely...

I know, it could have something to do with the fact that our feedie has turned into a bit of a foodie and loves all things fish, chicken, beef, broccoli, spinach, breadsticks, cottage cheese, gosh - you name it, he'll probably eat it (including chili, garlic, onion, curry...) but when I rush home clear across town to make it for the lunch-time feed - I expect at least, well, a bit of a feed - instead, Luka thinks it is a swell idea for mommy to come home to play and jump around with him.  Which, I must admit, in the grand scheme of lunch hour dates, is not all that bad.  

But boy oh boy, I will miss the whole "but I'm breastfeeding" excuse for that last piece of chocolate...

So, while I'm not quite ready to give it up yet, the signs are there that our little man is moving on to greener (and spicier) pastures.