Lacking Super Powers

Last night at bath time, Thomas demanded a tub to himself. He opted for the ‘Extra Room Bath’, leaving Caroline alone to blissfully soak and splash and play by herself in the large tub in the master bath. I find humor in the fact that this arrangement meant that there was NOBODY in the kid’s bathroom. It’s an appropriate illustration of how the kiddos run the show, right? They have taken over our lives!! And Ben’s large tub…


Anyway, Caroline decided to go all out with the toys last night. Perhaps it was because she had extra room without Thomas demanding space? Bath time is one of my favorite times of the day. Caroline is as happy as a clam in the tub, and I can take advantage of the ‘free’ time a bit by folding laundry on our bed while I listen to her chatter away at the toys. Last night she was exceptionally adorable, and completely surrounded with rubber duckies and an assortment of other water toys. She kept repeating, “Three-two-one… Jump!” and I discovered that she had lined up all the ducks along the edge of the tub and was having them jump into the water one by one. Ok, maybe it was cuter than it sounds. What pushed me over the edge was her sweet words of encouragement and congratulations to the ducks…


“You can do it! I know you can!”
“Ooooh! Good jump!”
“Come on little guy, jump!”
“Biiiiiig jumps!”
“Wow! What a good big jumper!”
“Great job guys!”
“You did good big jumps like Mommy!”
“What good jumpers you are!”


She makes me ridiculously happy. Like heart swelling, tears welling up, want to squeeze her sooooooo tight, happy.

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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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Thomas: Caroline, can I tell you something?


Caroline: Yesh Wubby. What?


Thomas: I really like dinosaurs.


Caroline: Mooooommy!! Wubby luffs dinosaurs!! (In her best sing song tattle tale voice.)

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Photos taken last summer by my beautiful and talented sister.

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This is officially the Fall of Ear Infections. And I? Officially would like it to be over. OFFICIALLY. Either the ear infections or the fall. I don’t really care which. When we were little, my sister was infamous for constant ear infections. When Thomas got his first at 6 months I braced for the onslaught that I was sure would follow. But it didn’t. And then Caroline was born. And I was mildly surprised when she had one fairly early. And less surprised when she had another. And another. And another. And now? When she sneezes I’ve learned to expect an ear infection in a week to 10 days. And I’m not even kidding. What surprises me now is when I take her in and she DOESN’T have one. Although now that I think about it I don’t think I’ve ever taken her in for a suspected ear infection and had her ears be clear. Ever. Finally at last, Sarah’s ears have shown their face in the next generation. <sarcasm>Oh yay.</sarcasm> By now, we know the staff at our pediatrician’s office rather well. And if they weren’t so nice I might be a little more upset about it.


Anyway, where was I? Oh right. This September I think I was at the doctor’s office once a week. Issa and I conferred, and then declared that October would be the month of health. Soooo close. But… We made it to the third week and then Thomas’ ear (the left to be exact) let me down. Sigh. Ok. Maybe November?


The first of November, Caroline took a 4 hour nap. And just like that the little mom hairs on the back of my neck were up. 4 days later she had a fever and said, “Ouchie, Mama. Ear.” A quick trip to our friendly pediatrics office left me waiting in line at CVS for a prescription, yet again. Three days later, (on a Saturday evening as per normal operation procedures), Thomas informed us that his ear hurt. He was nearly in tears. He doesn’t cry for pain, so I knew it couldn’t be good. Sigh. Monday morning brought an appointment for him. He had been fine all day Sunday, but had his heart set on going to the doctor. When Ben called to inform me of the exam results (Yes, that’s right, my husband took him to the doctor. What? He’s a parent too. And yes I know I’m lucky.), I was prepared for a clean bill of health. Ben said, “Thomas was wrong. He doesn’t have one ear infection… He has… TWO.”


Gah. Sigh… November is NOT the month of health. We shall refrain from talking about December out of fear.

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