CJDaily's Blog

August 13, 2009

Victory never slept so sweet.

Filed under: Uncategorized — cjdaily @ 7:21 pm

I would like to announce, after three sleep-deprived weeks of barely holding onto my sanity, that we are officially BINKY FREE!  That’s right, my child can now go to bed without her chew toy, and without clinging to me like I’m trying to place her in a crocodile infested river.  AND she’s stopped waking up in the middle of the night to scream like Lord Voldemort has just apparated next to her crib.  VICTORY IS MINE!

It wasn’t easy, obviously, and there were many times where the crying Just. Wouldn’t. Stop. and I was desperate to just pull out the last remaining binky and jam it into her mouth.  Or perhaps just leave a fifth of bourbon in the crib and see if that didn’t soothe her.  I was so uncertain that I was going to win this war that I did keep a spare binky in the drawer next to my bed.  It was my lifeline, my life preserver, the quiet reassurance that if I did start hallucinating, there was always this one little chewed up binky left to stop the pain. 

It was the state of this binky that convinced me she really needed to be weaned.  She wasn’t just sucking it to be soothed anymore.  She was chewing it.  No, no, wait, that sounds a little mild for what she was doing.  She was EATING it.  Really.  The tip of the rubber was missing.  Gone.  There was a hole that I could stick my thumb into and shove it all the way inside the binky.  She had turned into a goat, willing to chew on anything.  She was using it to teethe, not to soothe, and it was time to cut her off before she started pooping out recycled rubber items. 

So I did.  It was not fun.  At least once I stood outside her door with the bink in hand, willing myself not to go in there and just give in.  What helped was my mom, pleading with me to give it to her.  That’s right.  My mom was all, “The poor baby!  Who cares if she has a bink or not?”  And that snapped my backbone right into righteous mode and gave me the oomph I needed to stick to my guns!  Nothing like defying your mother to make you stick out your point, even at the ripe age of 27!  And then I got to be all smug when it finally worked.  True I was missing chunks of hair from ripping it out in frustration, and my eyes were lined with premature wrinkles from stress and had bags the size of carry-on luggage underneath them from not sleeping.  And I may have been swaying deliriously and hiccuping like a crazy person who’d had one too many medicinal glasses of rum, but dammit, I WON!  And then I passed out on the carpet in a puddle of my own drool.


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