The Paci

My kids suck. They love to suck. And as such, the paci, binky, soother has become a part of daily life for us. Until she turned two Stella had hers with her all the time. She was never particular about what brand, the color, or shape of the nipple, as long as she had something in her mouth she was happy. After she turned two she cut back to sleepy time pacis (naps and bedtime) and when she was sick or hurt--it was her comfort. But it was still an integral part of her daily activities. She eventually got smart to the sleep thing and suddenly would be tired/sleepy/ready for bed at various times throughout the day--when she really wanted a little comfort and a good suck. 

I knew there were pros and cons of having a kid with a binky. Yes it was nice to have something to pacify them. The plug, I have heard it called. An easy way to keep a kid quiet. But the down side is that at some point, unless you want a thumb sucking teenager, and large orthodontic bills you have to ween them off eventually. 

For a year I kept thinking that we would do it. There was always something coming up, she was getting sick, getting over being sick, getting teeth, about to travel, moving to a new place, etc. I had heard the stories: snip a little off the nipple every day for a few days, have the paci fairy come and exchange the paci for a toy, take the paci to a store and "buy" a toy with it. The list goes on. But I settled on buying the paci at the store. By the time we were getting rid of it, Stella was much to old to fool. I knew she had to be on board, or it would never work and I figured if it were her idea we could get through it. I prepped her for a couple of months with stories about a little girl (strangely similar to herself) who noticed that none of the other big kids had pacis so she asked her mom who told her that one day she would be ready to be a big girl and wouldn't need her paci any more. When that day came, she took her paci to the toy store and picked out a fun new toy (in the story this varied from a coveted doll, to a Hello Kitty lego set, to sporting equipment--depending on the day) and paid for it with her paci. In the story, the little girl is really sad for a couple of days after giving up her paci. It is hard for her to go to bed at night, but her mom lies down by her and she snuggles with her blankie and thinks about her new present and life as a big girl, and by the third night she goes right to sleep and doesn't need her paci anymore.

One day as we were driving home from the farm and Stella asked for her paci (as she frequently did in the car) and I told her that pretty soon she was going to be like the girl in the story and not need her paci. "I'm ready mom" was her unexpected reply. "I am ready to get rid of my paci". And as we drove she insisted. I reminded her that once she gave it away she couldn't get it back, and she said she was ready. She had told me this once before but at the time I wasn't ready. I knew it was bound to be a challenging few days/weeks/years? and hadn't wanted to take the plunge. But as time had proven, there was never an ideal window of opportunity, and now seemed as good a time as any. We called Calder to tell him the good news, and that we would be stopping at a toy store on the way home, and somehow he asked if she had thrown the paci out the window (this wasn't part of the regular story). Well Stella thought that was a great idea and kept telling me that she wanted to throw it out the window. So I took a deep breath, told Calder to toss out the paci's at home, and rolled down the window. In an instant it was gone. Cold turkey.

Like the girl in the story, Stella had a hard time for a couple of nights and asked for her paci a lot. We bought her a Snow White lego set and encouraged her to tell people she was a big girl now. She proudly told the cashier at the toy store, the folks walking by in the parking lot, and everyone else we ran into for the next week or so. "I threw my paci out the window" she would say. Proud of her decision and rite of passage into big girlhood.

But when it was time for bed, or in the napless late afternoon her true self came out. I'm not ready to be a big girl. She said frequently. I miss I paci. I need my paci. Calder said she was like an addict who couldn't get a fix. But by the third night she seemed ok. We were staying up late, watching movies and getting her really tired before trying to get her down for the night. She refused to have her blankie. I think it just served as another reminder about her loss. Things were going ok for about a week and a half and then she had a few nights of meltdowns. I'm not ready to be a big girl. I need my paci. I needed her paci at 1am driving around Midway trying to get her to fall asleep. But we held out. And things are slowly getting better. Its been a month and she doesn't talk about it much anymore, but bedtime/falling asleep is still a little rocky. She hasn't fallen asleep before 10 since she threw the paci out the window, but keep your fingers crossed for us that we'll all survive.