Kids, it’s time. Time to sabotage the paci.
My kid’s getting a full set of baby teefs. And with me as his mother, what with my dental history, he’s already gonna have a tough road to hoe. Let’s not start too early. The baby teefs are so innocent. What did they ever do to get all messed up?
Why now? Because it’s completely acceptable for me to pass out drunk tomorrow night and have Colin’s cries fall on deaf ears. Because I’m Irish.
I chose now because I’ve noticed lately that Colin feels entitled to the paci. And I ain’t raising no entitled brat. Colin hides these things around the house like Kim Richards hides bottles of liquor and prescription pills. Allegedly. Even when I confiscate the pacifier after his nap, somehow when we get downstairs, he’s got another one plugged in. They’re coming out of the woodwork, people! If he could just learn to find my keys every now and then. Help a mother out, kid. Jesus.
So last night, I got to crawl around our apparently dirty house and find the rogue pacifiers: I found fallen soldiers under cribs and play tables and hidden in corners and underneath dirty clothes in the laundry basket for crissake. Some were covered in lint and dog hair. Which you think would encourage him to give them up, but no. He’s out of control. A Paci Monster. So sabotage it is.
I read about bye-bye-binky.com, a website devoted to teaching idiot parents like myself how to wean their demon child off pacifiers. You see, parents depend on pacifiers to soothe their children. When, you ask? When changing diapers, putting on shoes, putting on jackets; when taking naps, when taking the stroller and not the wagon, when going to Gymboree, when leaving Gymboree; when closing the garage door; after turning off the television before Super Why has uncovered the secret message. Just then.
I started the first stage of sabotage last night. Following the instructions of the website, I took a pin and poked little holes in the tip of the pacifier.“The idea here is for the binky to lose its ‘squeegy’ feeling in the mouth. The holes let air pass back and forth and, although it is still a full pacifier, it is not quite as enjoyable. “
Checking my handiwork, I made sure to suck on the pacifiers myself. Yup. Like a crazy person.
As a next step I am supposed to start snipping the tops off. And when my child undoubtedly gives me the ol’ sideye and chucks his janky paci at my face, I am supposed to play dumb. “Here, try another [sabotaged] paci, honey!” I’ll let you know how that goes. Generally, Colin doesn’t take kindly to my dumb girl act. I try it often, like when he hands me the remote control and points to the TV. It usually ends in tears.
The point is to gradually remove the “pleasure aspect” of the pacifiers so that the child gives it up on his own. Apparently Colin is addicted to his “pleasure source.” I never knew paci sabotage to sound so sordid and dirty. Yikes.
So, have any of you poked holes in items belonging to the men in your life lately to get what you want? What? What’s so funny? Oh GROSS.