Bye, Bye Baby!

Let me start by saying, that I was totally prepared to send Miss Kelly off to College with her “Paci”. You know…binky, paci, lovey, num num (don’t ask, but I think a name like that has to do with you not being able to understand a word they say with that darn thing in their mouths!), whatever you happen to call it.

I have fondly known it as the item that ruins all pictures. It’s the tiny little thing that gets my heart racing, if I don’t readily see one available. I had quietly accepted, that my daughter’s dependence was way beyond the rational needs of “Honey you’re 25, don’t you think it’s time to give up the paci”? I had already started researching for 12 step programs. Talking to other mommy’s of “addicts”.

All that said…drum roll please, the dreaded “paci” is gone. Yes, gone! Kaput, nil, lost to all eternity, never to be seen again. I don’t really know how we managed to get our whiny, tempermental, big attitude little miss to give it up and not even cry one night.

What had been happening, as of late, was that she had been chewing holes in the silicone part of the pacifier. Now that she has molars, this had become the chew toy. Not the sucking, comforting aid it was originally used as. So after the need for replacements coming faster and faster, I decided I would make her start throwing them out herself after she had chewed the holes in them.

So a few weeks ago, Little Miss had to throw away the paci she had been walking around with into the kitchen trash. No fit…things looked good. That night as I was putting her in her crib with her blanky, she asked for “paci”. I calmly and oh so innocently said “Oh honey, there is no more paci, it had to go in the trash. Remember ?!?”

I waited. I waited for what I knew was coming…an all out fit of rage and terror, shock and awe, she was gonna blow!

But, she just said “trash? I put it in trash?” “Yes” I said, “yes you did”. “Oh, o.k.” And on we went with the rest of our “night-night” routine.

It has since been a couple of weeks since we said goodbye to the paci. She has asked a few times, almost inquisitively, about her paci…but it just takes a gentle reminder of “there are no more paci’s” and she is content.

Now here's my little secret. I am like a smoker who just quit smoking, I still haven’t quite gotten rid of “my stash”. So for the love of all that is peaceful and holy in my house...don't tell her!

xoxo ~L

I could Soooooo take him

Now don't get me wrong here. As much as I had an ache in my heart, way back in the day, for this young, hunky superman (a.k.a. Christopher Reeve). Yes, I said hunky, wanna make something of it? This is not what I'm referring to. What I am referring to is something all of us moms have felt at one time or another.

I have a toddler. This is my 4th toddler. I have changed 7,923 diapers, successfully. Meaning I get my toddler to lay down so easily it's like working with a baby...oh, it is a baby. Except that this baby is also a bucking bronco who doesn't want to have their bottom naked and laying down, unless they have done it themselves.

Do I dare tell you what that really means? Do I even have to tell you what that really means? No, I didn't think so.

Then I single handedly manage to lift their tiny little bottom up into the air ever so slightly to get just the right angle, no wait my arm is now being wrapped up by a python...no, no wait it's not a python, it's...it's...it's...my tiny little one's legs are curled around me.

She's choking the like blood out of that arm. My fingers are turning blue. My carpal tunnel is throbbing. Quick, I must be quick! What she doesn't realize (afterall she's 2) is that....ta da...I have another arm!! Ah, ha, now I've got her. So as I was saying, I carefully lift the tiny little bottom up to slide said diaper into position and whammo she lets her butt come crashing down on my hand and starts to slither backward. OK, back to my impossible task... Now, she's headed back off the diaper and the process starts all over again.

This only goes on for another 10 minutes. Really, only 10 minutes...that's not very long. Unless:

1. You need to get somone to school.

2. You need to pick someone up from school.

3. Someone, who is actually using the potty, needs help. (danger, danger, danger)

4. You just put toast in the toaster...now it's burnt.

5. The 5 year old decided to put more milk on his cereal.

6. You left the pantry door open.

7. Your other little darlings are unsupervised.

8. You realize you left your black sharpie (because I'm a labeling freak) out, unprotected.

9. Your Mother in Law is waiting downstairs, after you said you'd just be a sec.

10. The dog really, really, really needs to go out.

And the universe has decided that this will always, always, always happen when you're showing the new babysitter how easy your children are to take care of ;)

xoxo ~L