So, here is the skinny. When Garrison was little he loved his pacifier. At about 2 1/2, it began to break and one day he just said. . . this is broken. I don't want it anymore. Our transition was easy peasy lemon squeazy. Noel--no pacifier. Simon--no pacifier. Penny--loves the pacifier. Loves it. Comforted by it. Begs to take an afternoon nap so she can have it. This has worked beautifully in our favor and we've had an easier time with teething and sickness compared with drama queen Noel. (Love you Noel!) BUT, I felt like it was time for her to be done. She is getting older and she is getting a permanent bump on her tongue from where she sucks on it. So I did it. I just did it. I anticipated that is would be challenging, but I didn't anticipate that it would be CRAZY challenging.
This girl is going to be such a catch someday for whatever business hires her. She has determination. She goes at everything with gusto. The same can be said in the opposite direction. Boy was she sad about the hole in her pacifier! She reminded us often that there was a hole. She cried often. She stayed up for over an hour past bedtime bemoaning the loss of her broken pacifier. She tried to fill the void with other things "I need a book. I need a drink. I need a blanket. I need a hug. I need another hug. I need my paci but it is broken. I need a band-aid." She laid in her bed one afternoon moaning over and over "I can't do it."
I have handled well (I think) the naptimes and the bedtimes. It is the middle of the night garbage that is the most challenging. I am not my best in the middle of the night--unless there is vomit. I am a rock star if a child needs that kind of assistance. Something kicks in and takes over and I'm an amazing mama. BUT crying and whining, and getting out of bed, and turning on the radio, and wandering in the kitchen, and pulling Noels' drawers out, and scaling the shelves in the closet, and climbing in bed with Noel, and trying on clothes, and pulling off your clothes, and falling asleep on the changing table and and and. . . drives both Gary and I batty. BATTY.
Two nights ago I was on duty around 2:00 a.m. and after an hour of dealing with the pacifier fall-out, I was done. "I will not be coming back in here" I told her. "You need to go to sleep. Mama needs to go to sleep. Noel needs to go to sleep (Penny had woken up Noel--that and Noel had fallen out of bed. The two might be related.) Garrison, Simon, and Daddy all need to go to sleep. Stay in bed. Go. To. Sleep." And then I left. I turned on the television and fell asleep after about an hour. I decided not to hear anything. . . unless something was dangerous. The next morning I peeked into the room and found this.
Sleeping together--both turned the wrong way. Covers all crazy. Radio blaring on a buzzing station. Reading light on. Noel's drawers all pulled open. Books strewn everywhere (not pictured).
Last night she went to sleep in under 20 minutes--a first since the hole appeared in her paci. (And you will NOT tell her that I'm the one who did it. I'll let her know when she is older. I WILL.) She still was up way too much and had lots of drama. Baby steps. Now, if we could just get her potty trained. . . one step at a time Shanda. One step at a time. And for the record--I wouldn't trade her for the world! I'm so blessed by her.
2 comments:
bahahahahahha. awesome.
That child.
We should talk when we're both up at night. Insanity.
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