Cold Turkey

For some weekend fun H and I decided that maybe T.D.'s sleep problems wasn't just a malicious form of torture on her us, her subjects. Maybe it was the pacifier. Bink, Binky, Never a Pacy, a Tun, whatever you want to call it. It was driving a wedge into our family. It had to go.

To be fair it wasn't until lately that the kid seemed to have an addiction to the pacifier. It started out small. They always do don't they? Just a few short months ago she didn't care which one she had in her mouth. As long as it worked. Then she started favoring certain ones. A tiny part of my brain said, "Warning! This could be bad! Watch out!". Did I listen? Nope. I just kept using it and aiding in her addiction. Panic would ensue when her favorites couldn't be found. Mayhem and swearing occured at 3 a.m. as we searched for the Holy Grail of pacifiers under the crib. That right there should have been the second warning sign. Pfff... We did not heed it.

She used to be able to find them on her own too. No longer. This is where the real trouble began. She started waking up at night and standing in her crib. The better to yell at us, Move it!, she would scream. We would find the pacifier and stick in her little puckered piehole. With great relief she would lay back down. Sated at last. Until it popped out again a few hours later. Sleep deprivation can make you stupid. I know this now because it took us about two months to figure out that it was probably that evil little rubber and plastic device that was making our sleeping hours a living nightmare. Yesterday, H & I declared marshall law on the pacifier. No more. All are hidden. They will be dropped off at an undisclosed location later. I had reduced the use of these "pacifiers" only to sleep time, but it wasn't enough.

How did last night go? She took a while to settle down without her bink. About 30 minutes of screaming. She woke up once last night. Once. She put herself back to sleep after five minutes. Heaven. Naptimes are still to be determined.