The Problem with Pacifiers

For the majority of the girls' life, I thought that pacifiers were the greatest gift to moms ever. These days, they are the bain of my existence. Around the time the girls turned one, they gradually started to want them less and less during the day (still a much needed staple at night). I quietly congratulated myself as a mom for whatever I had done to cause this easy transition to get rid of them completely. I never gave them a "nickname" because, in my mind, they would be something completely eliminated by the time the girls could even talk. 

Enter, Sophie and Campbell at 18 months and referring to their beloved "paci" 238,876 times a day.

Seemingly out of nowhere, the pacifier became Sophie and Campbell's BFF. All of a sudden they were running around yelling for their "paci" and throwing huge fits when they couldn't find it, ripping it out of each other's mouth, and making it impossible to leave the house without one. What the what?? I suddenly began envisioning that creepy 5 year old on toddlers and tiaras that screams obscenities at her mom until she caves in and gives her her pacifier (that she has some weird name for). What will I be doing next? Taking them to get spray tanned? 

So around 15 months, I told Kyle that we absolutely need to make the paci a nap and bedtime only toy. He agreed. Until 15 minutes later when Campbell was throwing a royal fit and I look over to see her sitting quietly, pacifier in mouth. 

That, my friends, is successful parenting teamwork at its finest. 

So here we are, 6 months shy of being two year olds, and finally making some headway in operation adios pacifier. For the most part, the girls now only get their pacis at nap, bed time, and occasionally in the car. Or...

...Sophie gets creative and decides to re-purpose one of her puzzle pieces. She walked around with this in her mouth for a good 15 minutes before she plucked it out, gave me a huge, ornery grin, and exclaimed "paci!" Can I ever win?

So it appears the only solution to this dilemma is that weakling daddy Kyle and I prepare for a few days of tantrums and tears until the pacifier is a distant memory...or until baby brother and his wee pacifier enter the picture in a few months and we re-visit the trauma. 

Will it ever end? 

xoxo