Night Night

Since the RM is now three years old we've begun the painful process of divorcing her from the greatest loves of her toddler life: her crib and pacifiers. And when I say we've begun the painful process, what I mean is that we've thought about how it's going to blow goats to actually do it. Both the crib and the pacifiers (or as she calls them her "night nights") are absolutely vital to the goal of dealing with a nighttime Menace which is that come 7:30, she is neither seen nor heard.

The crib is obviously necessary for the containment aspect; it not only calms her down but it keeps her right where we need her to be. I have a really bad feeling that this kid's going to be a night roamer once she's unfettered; my dad tells horrible stories of waking up in the middle of the night feeling like something was just a bit off, and there I am standing silently by his bed, inches from his face. Damn if that doesn't sound exactly like something she'd do. I have a hard enough time waking up without it being to the terrifying sight of a short sociopath hovering over me; I feel confident the shock would shave a good few years off of my lifespan. The only thing that makes me think that might not happen is that I simply can't imagine her being quiet long enough to be at all stealthy. And that's where the night nights come in.

The night nights are probably the single most important thing in my life when it comes to getting the RM to just shut the fuck up. As a baby she took to the pacifier like a whore to the crack pipe and has been going strong with it ever since. She has gone so far as to name all her night nights and has even established a distinct pecking order for them, like she's the dominant Silverback gorilla of the Mam Silicone pack. The favorite from way back is Cupcake, with Purple, New and Green Monsty crowding the second place podium. Among the also-rans are Cheerio, Extra, Blue Monsty, Clear, Carrot, Babybaby and Red. Horsey used to be a great love but we tied that one to her crib during a particularly irritating throwing phase, and familiarity has, predictably, bred contempt. She barely gives that guy a second look these days.

                                 Hey, let's put a fixed string in bed with a baby! What could possibly go wrong?

All night nights must be Mam brand (we're mixing it up - AD was a Nuk girl, herself) and the naming process throws all anthropological reason out the window because it rarely has anything to do with their attributes. Carrot, for example, is pink with a polka-dotted cat, and Red is actually white so screw you.

We did try a big girl nap dry run this morning and it was a disaster. The "Howard the Duck" of naps; investors are still furious. I told the RM that she could sleep in our big bed with me but she couldn't have any night nights; she was initially quite agreeable but it quickly became apparent that this was like trying to sleep with someone who'd just checked into rehab, or a puppy with fingers. She would stay still for maybe 20 seconds and then we're veering from "I need to SEE your eyeballs Mom I need to SEE them can I TOUCH them" to "waaaaaatch meeeee, I'm putting your phooooone in my boooooottooooommmm." I folded almost immediately; just tossed her in the crib and gave her freaking Cupcake.

I can't even imagine how dreadful it's going to be once we commit to this. JHP and I have talked about possibly using a reward-based approach to ease things along, but considering how that went with potty-training it's not really a viable option. We'd initially given her an M&M every time she pooped in the potty, but she got so competitive and serious about it that she actually - steel yourself - gave herself a prolapsed rectum. Pushed so hard that she turned her little butt inside out, and I am not even kidding. My brain couldn't even process what I was seeing - all I could think was "how did a Bozo the Clown mouth get on my daughter's bottom?" So we're a little gun-shy about that kind of approach. And it's no good going with how we dealt with this issue with AD; when I told that sweet, responsible child that it was time to give up the night nights and crib, she pretty much said yes ma'am, of course, and may I please get back to brokering Mideast peace before finishing all the laundry?

It's very tempting just to let this go and just see how it plays out, but let's be honest, we need to nip any sort of oral fixation in the bud immediately. I want my child to grow up and be someone; specifically, someone who doesn't make a living with latex and a ball gag. But if the next few weeks turn out to be too painful I may be willing to risk it.