The Pacifier

This morning when I went in to get Jack out of his crib I resolved to start the de-pacifying process. I took it out of his mouth and said, "Pacis are for babies; you're a big boy now." Not surprisingly, he wasn't down with that logic. He threw a Class I tantrum. I held firm and kept the pacifier in my pocket. I finally distracted him downstairs with cereal with milk and repeated showings of "El Kabong Rides Again" on my laptop.

The previous day, I had learned that Jay, Jack's day-care playmate, who is six months younger, is already off his pacifier. This gave me more angst following Dr. Morley's admonishment about Jack still using the pacifier the previous day during his doctor's visit.

In the late morning as I dropped him off at day-care, I told Tanny, who watches Jack and Jay, that I had started trying to get Jack off the pacifier. I told her to try and see if she could keep him off it during nap time. She gave me that knowing look: it's gonna be tough.

Later in the day, when my attractive wife and I picked Jack up, Jay's mother was there and I asked her how they got him off the pacifier. She said they did it cold turkey and the first week and a half was rough. Jack went up to my attractive wife and said, "I cried real hard today." Tanny said he really got mad at not having his pacifier. I told her I was going to try to continue the cold turkey approach. My attractive wife said we should limit to just nap and nighttime. We would report our progress to Tanny on Monday.

Since I now do the bed time routine I would be able to put this to the test. We started our normal routine of a bath and some Tivo'd kids show with milk. After the shows, we turn off the TV and have story time. I did not give him the pacifier. He only asked for it once but when it became clear he wasn't getting it, story time collapsed into a Class II (less severe) tantrum. He sulked off and started playing with toys and wouldn't have story time. Then he said he wanted to get into the crib and without Bee-Bee Bear, his beloved tattered white teddy bear. He became schizophrenic: "I don't want Bee-Bee Bear!" followed by, "I want it!" He asked for paci again. I tried the whole, "You're a big boy and don't need paci." He wasn't down with that.

He kept throwing Bibi Bear out of the crib saying, "I don't want Bibi Bear!" As soon as it hit the carpet, "I want Bibi Bear!" I tried to sooth him in the crib. "Buddy, it's time to go to sleep now." It was nearly 8:45PM and way past his normal bed time. Finally, he succumbed to laying down and I quietly made my exit.

I went downstairs and listened on the monitor. He resorted to a kind of mad lament, saying to himself, "I don't want Bibi Bear," followed by pathetic sounding cries and the word, "Paci." It broke my heart and made feel like the World's Worst Parent. I felt the pacifier in my pocket. After ten minutes of this, my resolve crumbled and I went upstairs. I rubbed his forehead, "Buddy, it's time to go to sleep," I said. He seemed to be exhausted. Maybe this would work, I thought. I quietly left.

On the monitor, the same pathetic mumblings. It was now 9:20PM, way, way past his bed time. All I could hear was the word, "Paci" uttered in despair. My resolve crumbled for the second time. I entered as Jack was getting ready to jettison his beloved Glow Worm doll, which issues soothing music, out of his crib. "Buddy, here's Paci," I said. "Thank you," he said and immediately laid down, calmness covering his body from head to toe. Poor guy, he was asleep before I got downstairs.

Jack, 1. Me, 0.