Night of the Missing Paci

Well, I've been dreading weaning the little angel from her paci since the first day she greedily sucked on it (okay, she was THREE DAYS OLD when we introduced the paci).  Today I called the Emerald City and found out the little angel hasn't been napping with her paci for a month, ever since the switched from cribs to mats.  Of course, as my friend C. says, "they do things at daycare they will never do for you."

I called the dentist.  He said to get her off the paci by two and a half.  She's sixteen, almost seventeen months old now.  However, this is the only time for the next few months that we have two weekends in a row in town, with no visitors save maybe my parents for one lone Saturday night a week and a half from now.

Surely she'll be over this by then?

My beloved is off work this week as he prepares to embark on a new career. He can nap during the day if need be.

So we decided:  Tonight's the night.  Tonight, we end the paci madness.

She's been screaming for oh, about an hour now.  When I first put her down, she didn't say anything, probably because she hadn't yet scoured her crib.  Her cry is one of frustration more than sadness.  She calms down when you rub her back.  Mostly, I think this may be the first time we've ever utterly shocked her.

Knowing that she can sleep at daycare without the paci makes me think she will EVENTUALLY fall asleep.  Still, this is killing me.  Why must we do this?  How bad can the paci be, really?  DO YOU HEAR THE DESPERATION IN MY VOICE?

C. thinks I should probably just let her grow out of it.  I wish I could be that laid-back. The problem is that damn show SuperNanny.  When I watched the episode about the two children, aged probably four and five, who still had their pacis all the time (and I realize this is a huge difference from the little angel, who apparently doesn't even use it to nap), I almost had a nervous breakdown.  They screamed from nine at night until five in the morning the first night.

That episode stuck in my head.  I pictured the little angel, aged five, screaming for her paci and running all over the house in the dead of night looking for it.  Now, the little angel is still in a crib. She doesn't even know the WORD for paci.  She can't ask in that cute little voice of hers where it is.

No, if I wait, it'll be worse.  Now.  We have to do it now.

I really can't stand to hear her cry like this.  I think it will probably be like this through the weekend.

ARGH!  Can't we all just keep our crutches?  What is so bad about them, anyway?

Wah.