This is one of those posts that those of you without much kid experience might not grasp. I will not blame you for thinking I am overreacting. But I assure you, in my mind, this is a Big Deal.
This weekend, Lizzy was really testing Matt and me. Just not doing things we told her to do. Pretending she didn’t hear us, until the fifth or sixth time we told her with a dire threat attached for noncompliance. Frankly, we’re sick of it. And so, after a hard 1 hour and 20 minutes in the car, driving the 25 or so miles from Manassas to Rosslyn in the fog this morning, I was not amused, nor sympathetic, when Lizzy pretended to be asleep when we finally got to the day care. She plays this game where I have to say the right lines, in the right way, and then when I’m “fooled” into thinking she (and her stuffed animal du jour) are asleep, then – surprise! – her eyes pop open. She has fooled me!
But the right lines didn’t work this morning. Then the volume level was too low. (She has a cold, too; I think her ears are rather stopped up. The onset of the cold is, no doubt, due to the fact that she has a hearing appointment scheduled for Thursday, and the fluid in her ears will effectively confuse us, as it does every time, because she’s ALWAYS just getting over a cold, regarding whether or not she needs to have ear tubes re-inserted. But I digress.) She decided she just plain didn’t want to go to school today. Which, naturally, is not an option, especially when we’re at least a half hour late. So, I thundered: “Lizzy, if you don’t get out of that chair THIS MINUTE, and put your pacifiers in the seat, we will be throwing them IN THE TRASH!!” I think I gave her two or three verbal chances. No dice. So – I dragged her out of the car, and made her toss her prized possessions, her little Pooh bear and Tigger pacis, in the parking-garage bin with her own chubby little hand.
I am not trying to be funny when I request prayer for all of us this evening. She has been in love with the pacifier since she was about three days old, and my mother convinced me to give them a try to quell the nonstop squalling. (Breastfeeding experts suggest you wait until infants really have the hang of the feeding before offering a pacifier, and of course docs aren’t ever wild about them. Only moms who are struggling to retain a shred of sanity.) But, in two weeks, Lizzy will be three and a half years old. It’s ridiculous that a child who can speak fluently still has a plug stuck in her mouth.
Please pray also that either she gets over it, or we can afford the therapy when she’s older. (That’s sort of a joke. Sort of.)
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You are in my prayers! We were fighting the battle of the binky until Elizabeth was four-something. Actully, I never did battle with her that much. Starting around 18 months old, when things in our live were calm, she would give up her binky on her own. She'd go six months or more without one. But she must have had a secert stash because every time things got really stressful, she'd find one to pop back in her mouth. I think it was peer pressure that finally got to go without. But I figured if things were so stressful that I needed Atavan to get through life, why should I take away the comfort of her bink?
ReplyDeleteLiz: I've gone back and forth on it a lot, in my own head. And I know that the thumb will be the replacement, which isn't optimal. It's just that it's become another little pet that must be toted along. Off and on, she's insisted on having two -- one in the hand, and one in the mouth. If we can't find both, we're in big trouble. It's just ridiculous. I've been fearing this (no paci stage) for years, and I'm just ready to get it over with.
ReplyDeleteWe were going to go the "binky fairy" route -- that would've been better. Perhaps involving less future therapy. :)
Praying for you right now.
ReplyDeleteAnd, wow, way to drop the H-bomb of punishments -- the parking garage trash can! No looking back...