I, like the house of cards I am, have folded. On day 6 of No-More-Binkies-For-Abby, at about 10 pm, after almost 2 hours of crying, cajoling, begging, pleading and some whining on Abby's part I fished an Izzy binkie out of the baby's crib, shoved it at my toddler and stormed from the room. I didn't - and still don't! - know who I was angrier at in that moment: my daughter who couldn't give up her baby crutch or myself for caving after a few short days. The old routine for bedtime is a tried and true winner: bath, pjs, story, kiss, nightlight and music on, parents: out of the room in 5 minutes or less. It's down right wonderful. Add to those nights an equally tired and complaint Isabel and you have two kids sleeping by 8:15 - and hours upon hours of adult time until we go to bed.
But once the binkies were gone all bets were off. First we had to read about 40 books to Abigail (not exagerating). Then cuddle with her. And then try to sneak from the room - which we could never quite manage, so then we had to stand at the door for 10+ minutes until she was "asleep" and we could creep down stairs. Only to hear her whimper, let her cry for a bit then repeat. Hours, it was taking. Literally: hours. On day 6 of no adult time, little sleep (Isabel sensed this was just the moment to wake every 2 hours to check on me), I was ready to do anything to get my sanity back.
I hate - HATE! - that Abby is 3 and is still stuck to her binkie, but I hate fighting at bedtime more. Way more. So right now? I am willing to agree to disagree. We shall return to this battle later. But right now? I am too busy enjoying the silence of sleeping children to fight.