We finally bit the bullet and decided to take Erin's beloved pacifier, Bobby, away. We let her keep it through her actual birthday. The next morning when she got up we asked her to leave it in her room. Erin proceeded to wail and carry on as if we had removed an appendage. No doubt about it, Matt and I felt like the meanest, worst parents in the world. Really, our pediatrician told us her son had it until he was 3 and here we were at just 2 years old and a day making the kid go cold turkey. You would think that two parents who gave up smoking cold turkey would have more compassion, right!?
Day 1 was horrific. She screamed from the moment we brought her downstairs, straight through getting dressed and the ride to school. She screamed through drop off. She was fine all day at school, and the minute Matt walked back in to pick her up, the screaming commenced again. Through the ride home, through playtime in the yard and through the first half of dinner - yup, you guessed it - screaming. Shockingly enough this seemed to be the end of it. She went to bed with no qualms. She asked for Bobby once at bed time and a few times since but seems okay with the answer that Bobby has gone bye-bye.
Our baby isn't really a baby anymore... she's growing up
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