The dummy dilemma

19 Feb

I’m not gonna lie, since little man was born we’ve been big fans of the dummy.

I know this is a devisive issue and some of you will be tutting and rolling your eyes here, but as a colicky baby, Oscar gained a great deal of comfort from it and as sleep deprived parents on the edge, we got some precious moments of peace.

But I always knew that one day we were going to have to part with the germ ridden thing.

I got half way there when the boy turned just one.

I can’t stand seeing kids talking with a dummy wedged in their gob, drooling and slurring their words. Abhorrent. So as soon as the poor wee fella started to make the odd incoherent babble, I whipped it out, cold turkey during the day. He spent a whole week whinging and whining like a little boy lost. I felt bad, but I was steely, determined and unmoved. He would get over it.

But whilst I was resolute in my decision to take it away during the day, I could never quite bring myself to get rid during sleep times.

I know, you got me, I’m a wuss. But it comforted him and allowed him to self soothe and no one could see him doing it, so why kill ourselves? One step at a time right?

I kept promising that soon I would finish the dirty deed, but somehow, other things just got in the way. He started nursery…… Surely in that alien environment he needed the diddy to settle him for his daytime nap? Then there was the transfer to a big boy bed….. Bound to unnerve him, I couldn’t possibly take the dummy whilst that was happening. Then came potty training…. Wrong time…… Then pre-school. Every major milestone came and went and just somehow seemed more important than removing the offending pacifier.

But now, at 3 and a half years of age, I don’t like it. I feel a bit of a cop out, a failure, for allowing it to continue this long. But how do I take it away from a now fully aware, fully conversant, cunning little terrorist?

Today I tried to talk to him about it. I said that dummies are for little babies, and since he was a big boy now, perhaps we should give them to the pillow fairy so she could take them to some other babies who needed them. That proposal was met with what can only be described as utter disdain, so I pulled out my trump card (prepare not to be dazzled by this particular golden nugget).

The conversation went something like this.

Mummy: Oscar, we could make this really fun. You could put your diddies in a bag and leave them out for the pillow fairy. Then she will take them for the little babies and in exchange she might leave you a big boy present.

Oscar: (looks suspicious)

Mummy: what do you think about that Oz?

Oscar: Yeah that would be fun.

Mummy: Excellent. And what special big boy present would you like the pillow fairy to bring you? What would be your absolute favourite?

Oscar: (thinks) I know mummy, I have a good idea.

Mummy: (getting excited)

Oscar: She can bring me some nice new diddies!


Clever kid.

So seriously, what do I do? Do I play hardball and take them despite the inevitable screaming tantrums that will result? Do I wimp out and let him keep them in the hope that someday he will give them up voluntarily? Do I chop the end off them, dip them in some foul tasting liquid? What?

Please help me sort this drama before it becomes a crisis.



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