Thursday, December 31, 2015

binky rehab

In short, Lou's' love for her stinkin' bink was getting out of hand, and something needed to be done. I put it off and put it off, because let's face it, binks comfort parents as much as they do babes- leaving home without a bink in my diaper bag felt akin to leaping out of a plane with no parachute. After reading several articles on pinterest, I chose to have her help me gather them up into a gift bag. We left them out on the porch and Elliott ran around the house, chucked the binks and filled the bag with some m &m's and a note from the mysterious binky fairy. That was almost three days ago.

There came a time in binky rehab when I found myself  trying to lure my wild lou girl out from behind a couch with a bowl of ice cream ,that, my job felt more like wild animal tamer than loving mother. Especially after that failed and I ended  up tossing a blanket over her like a net and swaddling her up tight in hopes of calming the bear ( have you ever tried to swaddle an almost two year old?? for the record this pretty much worked) And this is only because I took the binky at the same time that she is cutting her 2 year molars, which is possibly the worst time I could have chosen, ever. Mother of the year over here! It is times like this when I crawl into bed with a heavy heart knowing I will be woken up in few hours by a sad babe that I think " I have no idea what I am doing whatsoever."  Because while there are hundreds of articles of getting rid of pacifiers ( trust me, I have read them), there are none on getting rid of pacifiers from Elsie Lou, and what to do when I can't get her to eat anything and she goes into a low blood sugar rage and wakes up in the night demanding that she have a bow in her hair right then and there and doesn't go back to sleep for 2 hours. Because no babe is the same and no momma is the same. I have the doting mother thing down, but tough love is not something that I came equipped with. I just have to resign myself to a quote I pinned the other day that says "The fact that you worry about being a good mother means you already are one". I hope it's true because I sure tell myself this a lot.  I certainly feel best on the days where I can get by without any Curious George involved and she eats well rounded meals on cute little sectioned plates and the dishes get done before I pass out from it all- but we have to get real sometimes. As real as my acid reflux and 36 week pregnant waddle. Right?! Here is to ringing in the new year with hopes of being over the bink for good ( because right now I think we all have ptsd and could use some family counseling ( insert sobbing emoji)) making our family of three a family of four, and surviving a little better next year than I did this year. Maybe even some thriving involved!! Here's to you mommas of littles, who are choosing to spend your twenties in what so some might seem pretty un-fancy- but is in fact the most important thing we will ever do or could do. Mom power! ( I don't know when this turned from a self deprecating saga of binky loss into a pep talk but I appreciate it all the same)

Happy New Year! May we all go down a yoga pants size and get a full nights rest.

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