Until he turned a year old, Sam only used his pacifier in the crib. It was a Godsend, miraculously calming him down. And, even better, statistics show that using a pacifier dramatically decreases the chance of SIDS. All that and more for $1.99.
Then it all changed. He insisted on having it in his mouth 24/7, even while eating. This didn’t make him an attractive dinner companion at all. As he started to talk, he called it his “Baby.” I have no idea why except that when he was a baby himself, I used to give it to him at naptime saying, “Here you go, baby.” And so the Baby was born.
These days he is quite a connaisseur of Babies, often holding one in his hand and another in his mouth, alternating them back and forth. Perhaps one has better suction and the other matches his outfit better. Who knows? And now that we only let him have one Baby at a time, he will declare, “Sam want the OTHER Baby.” This kid knows his Babies, folks.
So many people have been so very generous with their unsolicited advice on how to get rid of the Baby. Do you think I can’t see the drool-covered cowbell hanging out of his mouth? And, no, not even his mother can understand him when he talks with that thing in his mouth. Yes, yes, I know, there are options: giving it to the Baby Fairy, asking Santa to deliver it on his route to some poor deprived baby in Botswana who doesn’t have one, and some other Pollyanna-esque schemes.
I prefer to be realistic. I KNOW that I will feel like I am looking into the burning fires of Hell when I take that Baby away from him for good. So we keep putting it off, trying to stockpile sleep for the inevitable showdown ahead. I remind you that sleep deprivation is a form of torture in many countries.
Eventually it will be time for Bye Bye Baby, but until then it looks like the Baby is here to stay.