Bittersweet: 3 years, 5 months, and 15 days (Breastfeeing pics included)

If you are a regular reading you will noticed that the Breastfeeding Timeline is now gone.  As of two weeks ago Ravebaby totally weaned.  My goal for nursing was 2 years.  I never imaged that I would go almost 3 and half years.

 It is bittersweet.  I am happy to have my body back.  I no longer have to worry about being able to nurse out of what I am wearing.  While it had been about 5 months since we last nursed in public and about 3 since she had nursed at anytime beside bedtime, in my mind I have always had boobs as a ready and willing tool for curing ouchies or helping her go to sleep.  We snuggle and we are both happy with it.  I nudged her to wean and then she decided it was time. 

Ravebaby weaning just in time for me to start my doctorate.  I thought she would regress.  I figured she want to nurse as soon as she saw and then stay on the boob all the time.  I think she just realized that there was lot of life away from the boobs and besides, mom's boobs don't make chocolate milk.

So anyways there you have it.  I am officially no longer a breastfeeding mom.  It is incredible to me that this one decision to breastfeed has changed me so much.  I am wheatless because I breastfed a wheatless baby.  As I sit here eating my Gluten-Free Glutino Toaster Pastery, I have to smile.   I don't miss wheat.  When DH got his "death sentence" of a wheat allergy 10 years ago, I was in shock and had no clue what to do.  When we saw the signs in DD at 3 weeks,  I went cold turkey.  Now, eating wheat makes me sick.  I can tell when I've had wheat.  I just don't miss it anymore. 

My breastfeeding journey maybe over but the wheatlessness will continue.  My blogging will be more sporadic too.  I started my doctorate classes on June 1st and I am swamped with work.  I'll be around and still glued to my computer but I might not have much blogging time.

Always a winner?

Okay I am getting so sick of being told that I am always a winner. I hate that idea because to have a winner you must have a loser. I am not cool with the idea of a someone losing but anyways. I have bigger issue with the idea that I haven't worked my ass off to get myself into position to win.

So the current example is the whole getting into the doctorate program. I kept hearing well duh you're going to get in. Hello, I have two Masters degrees! I have worked my ass off. It was still not a for gone conclusion. These programs pick the personalities that match them and as me as I am, I tend to rub people the wrong way. No guarantee I was going to get in.

I really feel like the whole thing is about people either not knowing me or wanting to overlook the work. I do not come from privilege. I come from a line of hard working people and working hard is what I do best. Getting into the doctorate was the fruit of 33 years of work. Nine years in public education with at least one boss that was so awful and that hated me so much I almost got fired and was on the verge of being unable to finish my MLIS. I have worked. Unlike DH, I was not blessed with super high IQ, I have always had to work, even in high school.

So I am not a winner, I just refuse to lose. I rarely quit but when I do it is after finally realizing that my work is done and I have over stayed my welcome. I just don't give up easily, not to say that I don't give up. I am selective about what I choose to attack but fear of hard work is not usually a reason for me to not go for something. The point of the rambling: I am not a winner just too stubborn and hard-headed to give up and/or take no for an answer.

Sober

DH has been sober for 3 years, which means he is an alcoholic.  My husband, the man I met in 10th grade health class, is a drunk, a wino, a alcoholic.  Honestly it pains me to say it.  It hurts every time I think about it.  My dad is also an alcoholic.  I think that is why it was so natural for me to not see it with DH.  I don't think I really know what a healthy relationship with alcohol is suppose to look like. 

DH never drank in high school.  He too is from a family of people with alcohol issues.  He like most kids started in college.  Me, I never wanted to really drink.  I was too afraid I would become an alcoholic.  I never realized how much DH was drinking in college.  When we would spend weekends together, he didn't drink.  Since I didn't drink, he didn't.  In college most of my friends were from families of alcoholics so drinking was not something we did.  I guess we figured we should just avoid it so that we could avoid becoming what we had grown up with.

When we got married I had only had one too many once.  Since marrying DH over 11 years ago, I know my count of nights of one too many hoovers around 10.  How can I let him drink alone?  In my mind I was sharing with my husband not enabling an alcoholic.  DH taught me to drink.  Wine tastings, beer tastings, flights of various liquors and yet alcohol has never been a problem for me.  I can take it or leave it.  Even in all of that I never saw the problem for him.  He slowly began to tell me about the drinking in college.  He made sure that I know that he was an alcoholic from the start of our marriage but I never saw a problem with him drinking because that is what my dad does.  My dad knows alcohol can be a problem for him but he knows his limits and drinks on occasion so I didn't know that DH was struggling.  I don't know what a healthy relationship with alcohol looks like.

So when Ravebaby was born and DH poured out all of the liquor in the house and finally told me once and for all that was it, he was sober and no more alcohol, then I saw what I had been missing.  My brain finally turned on and saw it for what it was, a problem.  I am not mad at DH.  I proud of him for seeing the problem and talking about the problem and making me see the problem.  I am mad at me for being blind to it.  I am scared that it will happen again.  I am worried I am going to miss it and it is going to be too late for help. 

See, my marriage has three people in it.  Me, DH, and DH's other main squeeze, Alcohol.  She is always there.  Sometimes I feel like she is in between us.  I don't mind her.  I don't mind seeing her.  Actually my problem is when I forget she's there.  When I relax and take a deep breath and then I get smacked in the face when DH says, "I have been itching for a drink."  Slam, how could I forget?

Watching Nashville last night and seeing Deacon, the country singing alcoholic, fall off the wagon felt too real.  I begged Deacon not to drink.  Tears poured out of me as he drank.  I screamed at the tv when he asked for another.  I got mad when he skipped the meeting to get drunk.  I felt like I was watching my future.  I know it is a TV show.  I know Deacon isn't real except he is. 

This isn't pre-Ravebaby days.  There is a lot on the line now.  DH tells me that he got sober for himself.  He tells me that Ravebaby and I are what help him stay sober.  He knows what is at stake.  I am still afraid I am going to miss it.  I am afraid I am going to be blind to it.  I trust DH.  I know DH but I am still afraid.  Three years sober is nothing in the grand scheme of things.  I know people fall off the wagon all the time.  I know you can fall and pick yourself up again.  I just can't control any of it and so I am mad about it.