I slipped on a pair of pre-pregnancy capris this morning (confession: they’re the only ones that don’t require a lay-down-flat-on-the-bed-to-zip struggle) and found a binky in one pocket and $12 in the other. I am always on a frantic search for a binky, and constantly hit my hubby up for cash because I don’t have time to stop at the ATM (that’s my story and I am sticking to it). A binky and cash in my precious pre-pregnancy capris that don’t showcase my muffin top? I should have bought a lottery ticket.
Binkys are like socks that somehow disappear in the dryer–no matter how many I buy, I am always looking for one. Always. I am personally sending the children of Alex’s favorite binky company to college, or fueling their parents’ sun and fun on a yacht. My binky buying binges secure their financial future, and give me a false sense of security. I come home with several packages of binkies, sanitize them, put them in their designated holder in our livingroom–and watch them disappear.
I am constantly wading through my son’s toys, running down to the garage to examine the folds of his car seat, breaking my back to move his crib, or digging through the crevices of my couch searching for the ever elusive binky. I’ve even emptied my kitchen cabinets for a hail mary binky at nap-time (if you must know I did find one there; I am an exhausted Mommy who likes to cook, after all), and sent my husband to CVS on emergency. It’s gotten ugly around here.
The more binkies we have, the more we have to look. I recently came to the conclusion we do better when we’re only down to one or two binkies and have to take care of them like borrowed jewels from Neil Lane at the Oscars. Yeah, that’s how we roll in the Meltzer household.
Don’t get me wrong–my little guy is not obsessed with his binky. I mainly pop it in his mouth when I put him to sleep, or when I want him to stop harassing people at Target with his constant “Hi!” banter. They also quiet the deafening toddler scream (which makes the campaign killing Howard Dean scream seem like a whisper) and have the potential to tame a temper tantrum. I like having them around, but I have such a hard time finding them I am thinking of giving binkies the boot.
How old were your babies when you pulled the plug on the pacifier? What made you make the decision? Was your child getting too old or were you going insane looking for them (like I am)?
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