And then, last week, Jack decided to take matters into his own hands. Er, teeth.
It was around 9:30 pm and Jack was being unusually loud and whiny in his crib (he "goes to bed" at 7:30 but it usually takes him until around 9 to fall asleep). When I went up to see what he was doing, Jack handed me his pacifier and said, "Wash the sucky, Mommy." That seemed like an odd request, even for a child as eccentric as mine. When I glanced down at the pacifier, it was clear that no amount of washing was going to fix this problem. Jack had ripped the tip of the sucky off with his teeth.
"Well," I said to Jack, "it's 9:30, we have no other pacifiers, and you broke this one. So I guess you just have to sleep without it for tonight." Jack didn't have much to say to that. I got him some cold water, sang him a song, and left. About half an hour later, Jack went to sleep.
Still, I figured he'd wake up at some point during the night and freak out when he noticed his sucky was gone. But 7 am rolled around and I realized I hadn't heard a peep from Jack. When I went into his room to get him up, he told me the sucky was broken and needed to be thrown away. So he marched to the trash can, opened the lid, and threw it out himself.
|Sarah and I throwing our suckies into the trash compactor on our 4th birthday.|
I'd like to say this all went so smoothly because I'm some kind of parenting genius, but let's be honest: it was luck. Or maybe a combination of Jack being ready and being personally responsible for the sucky's demise. Whatever the case, it's a good reminder that the things I spend so much time and energy worrying about -- and believe me, there are a lot -- usually work out just fine on their own.