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I’m a firm believer in child-led weaning but at the same time I feel a little bit uncomfortable thinking about nursing my children longer than say 24 months. So maybe that makes me not such a FIRM believer. Then again there are times when my three year old gets hurt or is inconsolable that my instinct is to just “whack him on” the breast to ease his discomfort.

My older boys just decided themselves that they had had enough of the nursing. My eldest decided at around his first birthday. I was devastated. My little man not only didn’t NEED me anymore but didn’t seem to even WANT me. Rejection like that is not easy to accept. My nearly 3 year old slowed down his nursing when he was about 15 months although his weaning was a little more gradual. After about 2 months we had stopped nursing altogether.

My youngest though shows no sign of ever stopping. He is huge comfort feeder – much more than the older two ever were. I’m not really that much of a prude and have no qualms about nursing in public – I do however nurse under my scarf (another good reason to wear hijab – the number one non-deen reason would have be to the bad hair day). I am happy to nurse anywhere but the thought of my son screaming at the top of his lungs for “Ne-ne” (his word for milk) or just lifting up my shirt or God-forbid UNDOING my buttons IN PUBLIC just makes me squirm. However I can’t see myself ever refusing my child the breast especially when that’s what he wants and needs whether it be for sustenance or for comfort.

What are your thoughts? Anybody have strong feelings about this either way? Do you have a “cut off age” whereby you will stop no matter what? For those without children, do you look at breastfeeding say a three year old as EWWWW? I’d love to get a discussion going here so please leave your comments!

Last night I got a call from my mother inviting us over for supper. It was a last minute decision and since I had already started preparing our supper, mum suggested I just bring it over to cook there. MISTAKE #1.

It was my time to finally show the family I could actually cook something edible. I brought over my pizza dough which had been made lovingly from scratch and placed carefully in a warm place to rise for just over an hour at my place. While the dough was rising, I had already cut my toppings to perfection.

After piling up the car with the kids and husband and all my necessary ingredients for the perfect pizza
I wondered if I should take my cheese. I don’t use any special mozzarella – just old cheddar (WE’RE ON A BUDGET OK?) Nah, I figured mum would have some at her place. MISTAKE #2.

So there I was at Mum’s, getting the pizzas ready and mum brings out her cheese.

“Mum, I think this has gone bad!”

“Oh no, it smells fine!”

“No, Mum this isn’t like any cheese I’ve ever smelt.”

My sister (DSAH) has a whiff too.

After much discussion and passing around the cheese and sniffing, it was decided that it was probably smelling different because it was a different brand. MISTAKE #3
It all became apparent once the pizzas were in the oven. My father, one with a nose even the truffle-sniffing pigs would envy asked, “Are you cooking with parmesan?” I knew we were in trouble then…..

My brother started gagging and my sister ran upstairs to escape the smell.

It was a disaster.

Moral of the story: ALWAYS CARRY YOUR OWN CHEESE.

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