Believe it, Baby.
Automatic Psychological Referral

Raphael, Boob Man

I never mentioned it, but I was one of those crunchy granola breastfeeding moms. I mean, except for the crunchy granola part. We all know about the Honeycomb cereal.
Anyhow, I breastfed all three boys. Tre and Max each got one year of boob juice. I always saw the first birthday as the reasonable border of the breastfeeding era. Beyond that you get into weird “can you believe that WOMAN? With the TODDLER on her BOOB?” territory.
Well, Raphael was a very enthusiastic nurser. And when his first birthday came around, I was days away from the court date that would make my divorce final. I was preoccupied. And his reasonable breastfeeding border just blew right by me. I didn’t even think about it.
Then one day I glanced down while he was nursing and realized I had this huge whacking TODDLER attached to me. I gingerly started suggesting to him that he didn’t actually need any “deedee” (his name for it, not mine). But I think my milk must be laced with heroine or whatever addictive substance it is they put in McDonald’s fries, because he was frantic at the thought. He would climb up in my lap and pound his face into my chest, wailing in despair.
I know I hide it well, but I’m something of a sucker for my boys. I couldn’t bear to take away his deedee. Plus he was such an active toddler, it was the only calm time we had together. So I went ahead and did the whole extended nursing thing.
His second birthday passed.
He was showing no signs of losing interest.
I, on the other hand, was. The thing is, it’s not easy nursing someone that active. His head would be in my lap while his feet twisted around and tried to kick a passing brother. Women, back me up here – you don’t want your actual nipple attached to something that unpredictable. So I started working on tapering him off. And finally, when he was about two and a half, I weaned him.
Um…except he doesn’t seem to be giving up on the whole idea that he should have just a wee snack of deedee now and then. He still likes to stick his hand down my shirt and visit the girls, and every so often he flings himself down in my lap, in nursing position.
“Can ah have some deedee?” he asks, with a smile. He’s not upset when I say no, but he wouldn’t mind if I said yes either.
Today he wasn’t feeling great. On Tuesday he had his first two fillings done. The dentist was amazing. She did a great job and didn’t hurt him at all. But while his cheek was numb, he bit the heck out of it. And today it was very sore and swollen. He was grumpy about that, and had a pretty clear idea what would make him feel better. As I brushed his teeth after breakfast, he patted the front of my shirt. When I gave him the look, he smiled and shrugged, as though he couldn’t help himself.
As I lifted him into his car seat, he snaked one hand down my shirt and gave me a squeeze. I told him firmly, “No, that’s private for me.”
“No, it’s pwivate for ME!” He countered.
This afternoon he climbed on my lap and buried his face in my chest.
“Raphael…” I started.
“Ah jus’ wanna SMEW DEM!” replied quickly. I don’t know how to respond to the expectation that he should be able to smell my boobs. I really don’t.
But I’m not too worried about it. I figure as he grows he’ll mature past his boob fixation. You know, like men do.
Well, at least he’ll get over wanting to smell MINE.


Linda B.

Kira, I'm very glad I read this BEFORE I had my morning coffee -- just saved my monitor :) Hilarious.


"SMEW DEM"????? Bwaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!!!!



Yeah I am pretty dern crunchy myself. Sam nursed til 16 months or so and then cheerfully self-weaned. Maisy LOVED nursing--called it Nay-Nay, and weening was not a hill I wanted to die on so I nursed her until she was two.

She is not a future MAN, so she forgot about my boobs quickly. It seems to be mostly late-weening BOY children who remain fascinated with 'em. Maisy has no interest, although the other day, I was stripping to hop in the shower and she came into the bathroom. She stared at my boobs for a second, her little eyebrows knit together as she concentrated, and then her eyes opened WIDE and she GRINNED and starting WAVING at my boobies and hollering, DAS MY NAY NAY! HI DERE, NAY NAY! HELLO!! HELLO NAY-NAY!!

It was like she had run into an old sorority sister at the piggly wiggly...


HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I was an unsuccessful nurser, but my little one likes to "visit the girls" every now and then too.




Michael also nursed to two and a half! Finally I undermined his nursing by starting the pill, which cuts your supply in half... ha!

"I wanna nurse.."

"No, nurse is broken."



" I dwank allll the milk?"

"Yes you did!"

He's almost three and still thinks about it, he also has the boob fixation, his hand sneaks down there periodically - most often when I'm having a serious conversation with a male.....


this was sooo funny. Ahh thanks, I needed a laugh just now.

Keri This is the funniest thing I've read in ???

I nursed Kel until she was a year. It was great time spent together and when we were in the midst of being thrown from our life with her father just after that, I was sad that time was over.


I don't feel qualified to comment. That's my comment.


ROFL!! Great post! My little cousin nursed til three. I always quit when they started biting. That sounds mean but my nipple isn't getting bit off for anyone. ACK


(rolling on the floor laughing, and a little weirded out too)


Mary Jo

Too funny! I loved this one... haha

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