When Caroline was born, she came out and they placed her on my chest to clean her up. She was tiny and amazing. And I was completely in love. Once she was properly wiped down, diapered and swaddled, she breastfed for the first time. FOR AN HOUR AND A HALF. No, I’m not exaggerating. I WISH I was exaggerating. I remember one of the nurses commenting, “Wow, that girl is going to need a bink.” And she wasn’t kidding… Breastfeeding Caroline was a challenge. A painful challenge. But that’s not what this post is about.
Caroline likes to have something in her mouth. She found binkies early. And was smitten. Thomas hardly used them. He would take one if you gave it to him, but didn’t really care much one way or the other. Caroline LOVED them. She would seek them out, crave them, hunt them down. Eventually she was sleeping with at least 4 in her crib every night. She even named her favorite. Spot. “Mommy? Where go Spot??”, she would ask. Even when Spot had a hole bitten through it, she still wanted to sleep clutching it tightly in her hand. She’s a feisty girl, and we quickly learned nothing would calm her quite like a bink in her mouth.
Our pediatrician suggests that kids are weaned from bottles and pacifiers by 15 months old.
Um. Yeah. Not so much.
I have been DREADING the ditching of the binks for well over a year. Dreading, and putting it off. We did our best to limit her bink use to just naps and bedtime. I didn’t like the idea of her running around the house with them… But, we had so many that she was pretty good at finding them and popping one in. And I’m more than willing to admit that I used them freely when we were out of the house and needed to keep her (relatively) quiet. They make a pretty good bribe.
However, with her third birthday rapidly approaching, and the fact that she had ear infections NON-STOP for the first 3 months of this year, it just seemed like the time was upon us. Spot and the gang had to go. One Thursday night, I clenched my teeth and decided that D-day was upon us. I did what any sensible mother would do. I hid the binks, including Spot. And then played dumb. We went upstairs to get ready for bed and as she usually did, she went racing into her room to grab a bink out of her crib. (Yes, she’s still in a crib. Not a toddler bed. What’s it to you?) “Oh no Mommy! Where’s Spot?!?” She looked under the bed, had me pull it away from the wall, checked all the frequent hiding places… I played dumb and sympathetic. “Gee, I don’t know… Are they missing? I wonder where they are…?” We continued with our bedtime routine, jammies, book, snuggles. And then? It was time to get in bed. I put her in and she dug around (under the 6 blankets and 12 animals she requires) and still came up empty handed. I sympathetically said, “I’m sorry sweetie, it’s time for sleep. And I don’t know where the binkies are. We’ll have to look for them tomorrow.” Hug, kiss, arrange the blankets, lights out.
I tried to strengthen myself for the fit that was sure to come. As I walked away, I told myself that no matter what, we couldn’t be pushover parents and give her the bink. No matter how loudly she cried.
It was silent. I figured she must be pulling herself together for the fit to end all fits.
It never came.
Really.
NEVER.**
Over the next few days, she would ask about her binks a few times… Less and less each day. Before a week was up, she stopped asking. Instead she would just say wistfully, “Binkies all gone…”
Sometimes I think that I don’t know her at all. Despite that, I am soooooooo thankful to be her mommy!
**Well, okay. The fit never came at home. I never saw it. Yep. The only fit she ever threw over the binks was a 15 minute cry during naptime at daycare.
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