We did the nursing thing for as long as he wanted - about eight months.
After using up the stockpile of milk in the freezer it was on to formula. That was another type of adventure. One I hadn't experienced before.
Then in October (don't get all crazy telling me my baby is gonna get sick because he is fine) we started making the slow transition to cows milk.
By mid-October we were on the cow full time making Thanksgiving travel a breeze. Well, as much as a breeze as it can be with two kids. But we didn't have to worry about formula, where it was packed, did we have enough for a full day when we headed out in Chicago. Instead it was, "do you see a 7-11," or, "lets hit up that Starbucks and fill the bottle from the milk at the condiment bar." Soooo much easier - especially when your flight gets delayed. Then delayed again. "Yes kind lady at McDonalds walk up counter just a milk for us."
Through it all (well, since I went back to work) Little Man had had his "Ba-Ba." Husband has loved teaching him to say "Ba-Ba," and I admit that it was cute, but the last few weeks I've been efforting a name change.
Milk isn't easy to say for most kids. Big Girl just said "milk" when she was one, but she talked more than any other one year old I've met. Our niece is almost four and still drinks "milch." I've heard of kids calling it "Moo" and thought that may be the way to go. So, we have moved on to the sign for milk.
Good, because back when I was nursing, I was mortified of him (or Big Girl) signing for milk. I mean really - I already felt like a cow - I didn't need a baby reinforcing it with sign language.