The end is near. Max is nearly weaned. He started out life with a feeding every 2-3 hours and has dwindled down to once a day. I haven't given up the 5:00 a.m. wake up feeding because ... well, because it's 5 a.m. and I don't want to get up and make bottle at 5 a.m.
The transition has gone smoothly. Max is so comfortable with the idea that when I laid him and the bottle on the bed yesterday he grabbed the bottle, shoved it in his mouth and looked at me as if to say, "Ha! I'm out from under your control. The power to feed me is now mine!" I looked at him, took a pull off my bottle of Jim Bean and said, "Hey buddy, you're not the only one free to swig from the bottle. Race you to the bottom!" (Yeah, not really.)
In other attempts to gain independence, Max has officially entered The 3 Step Program as I like to call it. He regularly takes 3 steps from object x to object y squealing with delight. The look on his face when he gets there is priceless. Have you ever seen the look on Mary Lou Retton's face when she landed that perfect 10 gymnastics vault thingy? That's pretty much the look he gives me. "Can you believe it, Mom? Was that not the most amazing feat you have ever witnessed?!" It was, Max. Indeed it was!