I am still awake.

I Survived.

The other day on Babble, I posted how I was fearful of being the solo parent of two kids while TSA went on his first business trip since Fuzz was born. I had been alone so many times with Shnook but the two kids together and their different needs had me worried.

You'll be glad to know I lived to tell the tale. And I've got some tips to share as well! Read on...

The Great Shnook Wean

Ok friends, many of you know already, but for those who don't...I'm pregnant. 

That's right. After all this, I'm going to do it...all.over.again. It's not even OVER and I'm doing it all over again.

I mean, it's never over, but I think we all know what I mean, right? RIGHT?

Until a week ago, I was still nursing the Shnook. For some, nursing while pregnant is no big whoop. In fact, for me it was no big whoop for the first few weeks. Then, (prepare for TMI) my nipples became UBER sensitive. By sensitive, I mean horrible wince-worthy stinging pain every time he latched on and throughout the entire nursing session. Add to that the fact that I wanted to throw-up on my child every time he nursed, and you have a nursing relationship that has gone sour.

Oh Woe Is Me, There's A Kid On Me...

Anyone who knows that song from Sesame Street remembers the elephants, giraffes,and  rhinos looking pissed off that there are birds hanging out (and pooping) on their heads and backs while there was nothing they could do about it. I won't say that's exactly how I felt yesterday as my son slept on me for 5 hours on a flight, but there were definite moments of unpleasantness.

I guess it was my destiny  to lie with him sprawled across me as both my arms and one leg fell asleep, and my hip was jammed into the armrest. TSA was actually travelling with us this time and I kept preparing the Shnook that he was going to "sleep on Daddy when the plane got up in the sky (i.e. cruising altitude)." The Shnook had other plans.

Love

I guess I knew it would happen. Or maybe I wasn't really sure. 

But it did.

The love that I have for my son has potentially superseded the love I have for anyone or anything.

And if that wasn't enough, my husband seems to feel the same way.

The other day when I was planning a trip back East with The Shnook and without TSA, the length of the trip was discussed. A week? More? Less? Many factors came into play here. Dealing with him on my own at night was challenging. I would have help during the day but it would still be very draining. Flying alone with a baby was anxiety-inducing and quite possibly a 'not fun' experience.

However, I hadn't been to NY in a year- the longest I've ever been apart from my favorite city, not to mention my family (although they have visited LA a few times in the last year). In short, it was a long time since I'd been 'home,' if I still considered NYC 'home.' Staying a short time didn't seem worth it with a baby, but yet, I wanted to go.

A few days later, TSA called me from work and said:

 "I don't think I can live without The Shnook for a whole week."

Aw. That is really sweet. To be honest, I don't think I could either. Then it occurred to me, that maybe we could, even if it was somewhat unpleasant, live without each other for a week. Not even that, neither of us mentioned that we would be miserable without each other at all.

I'm sure we would be, and it goes without saying that I love TSA to pieces, but...

...it's just different now.