I really want Sadie to give up her pacifier.
I want her to be able to talk clearly, I want her to comfort herself with her own good brain, I want her teeth to be straight.
What I don't care about is when nosy people look at us with squiggly eyes when we're out and about and she is slurping away on it. I actually don't care about that. If the only factor were public scorn, I would let her take it to college. I'd even buy her a new (sparkly!) one for the occasion. She's small for her age. She might be able to pull of a binky at age 17. But for some reason, as she approaches the age of 4, I feel some kind of natural reasoning yanking apart my steadfast denial, so that I have to address the fact: she is too old for a binky.
Last week, this was the bribe:
"You can't take your binky to princess camp."
This week, I'm trying rabbit, rats, and guinea pigs. We went to Animal Jungle, the best pet store on earth. She petted a rabbit, she held a guinea pig, she ogled a rat, and at the end of the experience, she was claiming boldly that she wanted to get rid of her binkies so she could have a rabbit.
"Sadie, if you can do without your binky for seven days, Mommy will bring you back to Animal Jungle and you can pick out whichever rabbit you want."
Deal. Sealed in cedar shavings.
However, after lunch, there was a reversal.
"Mommy, I weed my binky!"
"Sadie, don't you want to give your binkies to the Binky Fairy so she can bring you a rabbit?"
"No, I don't WANT a wabbit, I weed my BINKY!"
What could I do? I gave her the binky. The sparkly pink binky. Now what can I try next?
I want her to be able to talk clearly, I want her to comfort herself with her own good brain, I want her teeth to be straight.
What I don't care about is when nosy people look at us with squiggly eyes when we're out and about and she is slurping away on it. I actually don't care about that. If the only factor were public scorn, I would let her take it to college. I'd even buy her a new (sparkly!) one for the occasion. She's small for her age. She might be able to pull of a binky at age 17. But for some reason, as she approaches the age of 4, I feel some kind of natural reasoning yanking apart my steadfast denial, so that I have to address the fact: she is too old for a binky.
Last week, this was the bribe:
"You can't take your binky to princess camp."
This week, I'm trying rabbit, rats, and guinea pigs. We went to Animal Jungle, the best pet store on earth. She petted a rabbit, she held a guinea pig, she ogled a rat, and at the end of the experience, she was claiming boldly that she wanted to get rid of her binkies so she could have a rabbit.
"Sadie, if you can do without your binky for seven days, Mommy will bring you back to Animal Jungle and you can pick out whichever rabbit you want."
Deal. Sealed in cedar shavings.
However, after lunch, there was a reversal.
"Mommy, I weed my binky!"
"Sadie, don't you want to give your binkies to the Binky Fairy so she can bring you a rabbit?"
"No, I don't WANT a wabbit, I weed my BINKY!"
What could I do? I gave her the binky. The sparkly pink binky. Now what can I try next?
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