It all started before he was born. I was not going to give my child a pacifier, said the speech therapist! And then the little suck monster was born and somewhere between day 1 and day 2, I was calling my mother to bring that stupid little paci someone had given me as a shower gift to the hospital. Quick! Because all Garrett wanted to do was suck and, since we weren't doing bottles, that directly involved me. And that, my friends, is when Gina got her first couple of the coming millions of lessons of motherhood. 1) never say never 2) I am incredibly selfish.
His paci and his monk have been his best friends ever since that day and I've had great intentions of taking them away before now--but, even better excuses. And, we have tried, half-heartedly, in the last 6 months to help Garrett come to the conclusion to give it up on his own. Yeah Right, is all I have to say. Because you know all those tips they give you in the parenting books about stuff like this (I'm totally assuming because I've never read such books), like 'give them to a baby', 'slowly cut more off the end', 'lose them'???.....that stuff could only possibly work with a baby. Not with a 4 year old who has more mental energy for reasoning and persuasion, not to mention tenacity, than his parents.
You know we never hesitate to bribe, although I prefer to call it "motivate", so of course, P and I decided that would be the best option. Offer Garrett the moon to give up his paci on his own, so that we didn't have to be the bad guys. We take the child to ToysRUs yesterday and spend 1 hour going up and down every aisle, telling him "you can pick any thing you want and after 5 days without the paci, we'll come back and get it". I swear the little mule picked up every toy in that store, with great enthusiasm, and at 'go time', declared "I don't want anything and I'm never giving up my ba."
Knowing we are screwed and thinking we should have 1 last night of peace, we declared that last night would be the last night with the paci. And, in a move that both made us feel like our parents and foreshadowed what the next 14 years of our parenting with this child would look like, the United Front of Parental Units (aka, Paul and Gina, who try to pretend like they know what they are doing, when, clearly, they don't) said: "we can do with the hard way or the easy way, it is your choice".
You can probably guess what he chose right? That's right. The hard way. He's vacillating between sullen and 'jump from a cliff' hysteria right now, and we are only 15 minutes into rest time. He's up in his room, crying to himself and mumbling things like, 'but I'll never have it again and I'll be so sad. I can't sleep without it." Poor buddy. Tonight promises to be full of fun. If I don't cave before then.