You may remember that I asked for your advice about getting rid of the pacifier of the two year old earlier this year. Well, we finally did the deed this week.
Our little Pearl Harbor baby was getting ready to turn three years old and I thought the time had come. I warned the other children that we were likely in for several days of wailing and whining and crying and tearing garments and wearing ashes upon heads.
My Madison suggested we try something we saw at Rocks in my Dryer when Shannon was trying to get rid of her daughter's pacifier. Shannon concocted some fanciful story about baby squirrels needing pacifiers and not having any and wouldn't it be great if there were a little girl who could donate her pacifiers to the poor baby squirrels?
I said that I guess we could try that, but that we should go ahead and brace for the whole tearing garment scenario because she is a Smockity child and Smockities are tenacious, if nothing else.
So we told her the whole sad, sad story of the poor baby squirrels and WHO, we wondered, could donate her pacifiers to those squirrels? What?! She would?! Why, that would be fantastic!
She ran, enthusiastically, to gather all of her pacifiers and we placed them carefully on a bird feeder and praised her for her generosity.
I prepared myself for the storm that would break at bedtime when there was no pacifier to comfort her.
Bedtime came, and she wanted her pacifier, and all the kids reminded her about the baby squirrels. We went out to look at the bird feeder, and sure enough, they were gone! The mama squirrel had taken her generous gift to her babies!
She was thrilled and skipped off to bed.
And I braced myself for the storm.
Which never happened!
That was four nights ago, and to my astonishment, the pacifiers have not been mentioned since!
She is pacifier free!
So, yeah, we invent stories about needy rodents and tell them to our children to serve our own purposes.
Don't judge me.
This post is linked Works For Me Wednesday.