Status: Day One of Sassy Sobriety
I'm thinking of starting a new support group. I'm not sure what to call it. Maybe Pac-Anon. Or in our case, Sass-Anon. It would be for family members of people with an addiction...an addiction to pacifiers. (She calls them sassies.)
My daughter is 3 1/2. I have rationalized. I have schemed. I have begged. I have bargained. It is time. It needs to end. I think when you've reached the point where your kid will actually remember sucking on one, it's time to move on.
Today we took the first step toward the rest of her life. I'm trying not to overdramatize this, but it's tough. She's my baby. My last baby. {deep breath} {lip-wobbling sigh}
For months her Dad has been threatening to just cut the nipples off the things and be done with it. I think that's too harsh (plus...er...there's the part where she walks around telling people her Daddy's gonna cut off her nipples tomorrow...but I already blogged about that) I finally decided to use good old-fashioned bribery. I plunked $30 down at Target for a gi-normous plastic show horse complete with a brush, trophy, blue ribbon and fake apples and carrots.
It worked.
We got home with the thing and she obediently (jovially, actually) went upstairs and collected all of her sassies and put 'em in a bag. She even got the scissors and asked us to cut 'em up. We had a lovely day playing with her new toy and then it was bedtime.
I helped her clean up her room and that's where I found it. Her secret stash. She had three sassies stuffed in the bottom of her pink unicorn purse. I debated just taking the things away without telling her. I decided that wasn't fair. If I want her to be a Big Girl, I have to treat her like one. I showed them to her.
The color drained from her face and she started stomping her feet. "No. I'm-a-baby-I'm-a-baby-I'm-a-baby!"
But the jig was up. There was no going back (er...plus...$30 for a plastic horse!!!!) We got rid of them.
She's sleeping quietly now. I'll keep you posted.
Robin
My daughter is 3 1/2. I have rationalized. I have schemed. I have begged. I have bargained. It is time. It needs to end. I think when you've reached the point where your kid will actually remember sucking on one, it's time to move on.
Today we took the first step toward the rest of her life. I'm trying not to overdramatize this, but it's tough. She's my baby. My last baby. {deep breath} {lip-wobbling sigh}
For months her Dad has been threatening to just cut the nipples off the things and be done with it. I think that's too harsh (plus...er...there's the part where she walks around telling people her Daddy's gonna cut off her nipples tomorrow...but I already blogged about that) I finally decided to use good old-fashioned bribery. I plunked $30 down at Target for a gi-normous plastic show horse complete with a brush, trophy, blue ribbon and fake apples and carrots.
It worked.
We got home with the thing and she obediently (jovially, actually) went upstairs and collected all of her sassies and put 'em in a bag. She even got the scissors and asked us to cut 'em up. We had a lovely day playing with her new toy and then it was bedtime.
I helped her clean up her room and that's where I found it. Her secret stash. She had three sassies stuffed in the bottom of her pink unicorn purse. I debated just taking the things away without telling her. I decided that wasn't fair. If I want her to be a Big Girl, I have to treat her like one. I showed them to her.
The color drained from her face and she started stomping her feet. "No. I'm-a-baby-I'm-a-baby-I'm-a-baby!"
But the jig was up. There was no going back (er...plus...$30 for a plastic horse!!!!) We got rid of them.
She's sleeping quietly now. I'll keep you posted.
Robin
posted by Robin Gorrell | 9:44 PM
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