Time's Almost Up

At the end of next month, my youngest will turn two. It has just occurred to me that at that point, I will move beyond slightly unusual to strange in the eyes of most Western people. It's one kind of weird to nurse past a year in this society; it's totally nuts to nurse past two.

Even my father, who is a staunch supporter of breastfeeding, thinks that two is the cut-off point. He's based that on the fact that when he was growing up in Iran, everyone nursed until the baby turned two. Then, the moms weaned cold turkey. They would put some bitter stuff on their nipples to make them taste bad to the poor, confused toddlers. From what I've found out about modern Iranian breastfeeding practices, formula companies have infiltrated. I doubt that nursing to two years of age is the norm anymore, at least in the big cities. My dad has mentioned, though, that his father apparently nursed until he was seven! He was an only child, which might explain it. He said that he never believed the story until I told him that the natural human duration of breastfeeding could extend that high.

I have no idea when Grace will wean. The other two weaned when I got pregnant with the next baby, but we aren't planning on doing that again. Alexander weaned two months shy of his third birthday. Although I have no philosophical issue with breastfeeding a three year old, I'm not sure that I'm going to do it. I can't see forcing Grace to stop before she's ready, though, so I guess I'll just have to take it as it comes.