CJDaily's Blog

July 18, 2009

Bye-bye binkie…

Filed under: Uncategorized — cjdaily @ 1:42 pm

Ok.  Some of you already know that I’m trying to go binkie-free.  Rather, I’m cutting Belle off.  Bye-bye binkie.  She’s had it for far too long.  Kids with binkies sleep lighter because of the sucking, which is good for infants because it may prevent SIDS, but bad for toddlers whose mommies want to sleep through the night.  Kids with binkies also may get more frequent ear infections, something to do with the pressure of the sucking forcing liquid back into somewhere, you get what I’m saying.  And thirdly, it’s a big giant pain in the butt.  If we’re in the car at night and I’ve given it to her, sometimes she’ll play around with it and then it falls on the floor.  While I’m driving down the Turnpike.  If you see a red Honda swerving violently, that’s just me, trying to reach the binkie without pulling over. 

So that’s it, we’re done.  No more.  And for a little while there I thought it might be ok.  The first night, as I was putting her to bed, she gathered her favorite animals and then looked around for it.

“No bink,” I said gently.  She threw herself facedown on the bed, crying, and I backed guiltily out of the room.  Within 20 minutes she was asleep.  I did a little dance, and God noticed my pride and smile thoughtfully to himself.

The next day at naptime, we did the same thing.  She got her bears, and looked up at me expectantly.  “No bink,” I reminded her, and she gave me a chilling look that froze my blood in my veins.  A look that said, “Lady, you’re gonna rue the day you made that call!”  Then she proceeded to stay awake for the next 2 hours.  AND I KNOW SHE WAS TIRED!  But she refused to take her nap, and I finally, reluctantly, after trying everything I could think of (rocking her, her favorite soothing music, warm milk, tylenol) admitted that she had won that round and got her out of her crib. 

That night (Night 2), she had her bears in hand and actually stood up to peer over the crib bar, as though perhaps I’d simply mislaid the bink and wasn’t smart enough to realise it.  “No bink,” I said, and she huffed out a  sigh, and lay down without another word of protest.  HAHA! I thought.  Victory is MINE!  I have been firm yet kind, and she has yielded to me!  Bwahahahaha!!

And God looked down and noticed my pride.  And laughed his ass off.

She did take a nap yesterday (Day 3) but that may only be because her Grammie took her to Jellybean Jungle, and she was properly exhausted.  So, come nighttime I wasn’t sure what to expect.  And what do you think happened?  You’ll never guess.  Let’s recap it all for you.

I put her down at 7:45 pm since she was yawning up a storm.  She realised she was going to bed, and regardless of her fatigue, she latched onto me like a spider monkey.  So I stood and rocked her, swaying from side to side.  She was perfectly quiet, head nestled into my shoulder, until I went to put her down.  Then came the screaming.  And the tears.  I couldn’t even get her to lay down so I could tuck her in as usual.  I had to leave the room with her standing and gripping the crib bars, yelling at my receding back. 

Twenty minutes later she was still going full steam,  so I went back in and tried to lay her down peacefully.  Instead she latched onto my neck and scaled the side of the crib until she was in my arms.  I rocked her some more, but was met with the same results when I tried to put her down a second  time.  Screaming, wailing, full on Medea-style breakdown complete with Greek chorus swaying and moaning in the corner.  So I gave up.  She had to get tired of crying eventually, right?

Well, no.  At least, not for the half hour that followed.  Thirty minutes of shrieking agony came from behind her door.  Did I mention I already had a raging headache?  It was already 9pm, and she’d done nothing but cry for the last hour and a quarter.  I had to go back in there, if only to make sure her wails weren’t due to her head being stuck in between the crib slats.  And wouldn’t you know, as soon as I picked her up it stopped.

She resumed the death grip around my neck, and I said, “Fine.  You wanna do this the old fashioned way, huh?”  So I sat down with her in the glider, determined to rock her to sleep.  With her curled up against my chest, I was strongly reminded of her as an infant. How were we back to the time when the only place she wants to sleep is right on top of ME?  So I rocked.  And rocked.  And rocked.  15 minutes into the rocking, I felt her start to relax.  I gave it another 5, just to be sure, then stood up with her and walked to the crib.  Just as I was lowering her onto the mattress, she went rigid, snapped awake, and climbed my arm like a vine, trying to hook her leg over the side of the crib to escape. 

“You were just ASLEEP!” I wanted to roar.  I was getting desperate.  The thumping headache in my temple was pounding out an S.O.S.  She was whimpering and clinging and something in me snapped. 

“Ok!  Ok!”  I exclaimed.  Desperate times, desperate measures.  I said a little prayer and yes (did you see where this was going?) flung my leg over the side of the crib.  Holding my breath, like perhaps that would make me lighter, I GOT. IN. THE. CRIB. 

Belle didn’t seem to realize I had joined her, as she continued to cling to my shoulder, resisting my attempts to lay her down.  “No, look, Belle, Mommy’s right here, I’m not going anywhere.”

She caught on to the situation, and after giving me a strange look, like she wasn’t sure what had just happened, but was pretty sure she’d won, she willingly lay down and let me cover her with the blanket.  I leaned over her, rubbing her back, and thought, “Ok, this is good, I can wait until she’s sleeping and just sneak back out.”  And as if she’d read my mind, one little arm snaked up to hook itself around my neck and yank me down flat. 

So there I was.  In the crib.  Under the physical restraint of a very determined little dictator toddler.  My face was half covered by her little shoulder and her mouth was smushed into my forehead, but she seemed content and I tried to relax and decipher exactly where I had lost the upper hand in this situation.  At one point I shifted my legs, and her arm tightened around my neck like a bear trap.  After ten minutes her breathing slowed and I thought it seemed safe to try and slip out from under The Arm of Power. 

Slowly, I slipped out from her grasp, and delicately extricated myself from the crib.  I held my breath as I navigated back over the railing, certain something was about to creak or snap, and I’d be confined to a whole night behind bars.  But luck was finally with me, and I slipped out of the room, sweating like a spy who has just planted a bomb and has seven seconds to exit the building. 

I realise that, although I finally got her to sleep, she might have actually won that particular battle, if only by holding my dignity for ransom.  I may have under-estimated my opponant.  It’s time to step up my game.  Tonight, I am breaking out a nice warm bottle of benedryl.

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1 Comment »

  1. I laughed so hard I cried. You should really try to get these published. Parents everywhere can relate. I just sent this one over to my brothers.

    Comment by Erin — July 19, 2009 @ 1:45 pm | Reply


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