We had a visit on Sunday from the Binkie Fairy. As per her instructions we boxed up all of Abby's binkies and "mailed" them to Binkie-Fairy Land where they will be planted and can grow into more binkies for brand new babies.
Abigail bought this hook, line and sinker... Until 8 o'clock. At which point she was ready to rally the troops, grab some pitch forks and head after that binkie thieving witch and get her pacis back. She was crying. And screaming. And whimpering. And making all kinds of pitifull pleas. And what could we do? Those binkies had been mailed straight to the trash. Literally. There was - and is - no going back.
The last 6 months we've been rationing the binkies so that she can only have them at bedtime or on very long drives or in planes. This has worked - for the most part she doesn't even ask for them anymore and will hand over her binkie as soon as she gets up. But taking it away at bedtime? Is apparently akin to baby torture.
In her defense she's used a pacifier since she was 2 weeks old. And I've loved it. It helped us survive the first year when she wasn't a car baby. Without it we would never have survived the teething months. When we stopped the rocking/singing before bed routine it was there to comfort her as she put herself to sleep in her "big girl bed." But now her last comfort of infancy is gone. And she has to learn how to fall asleep all over again. I am trying to be as gentle and loving and understanding as I can be. But when it takes 2 hours of crying, cajoling, and fighting to get her to take a nap? My patience wears thin. After crying for quite a while she is finally napping peacefully. So is her sister.
So I think I'll just sit here a second longer and enjoy the sweet sound of success, and try not to think about how Isabel is cuddled up in bed, fast asleep... A binkie tucked into her wee mouth.