When you bring home a newborn baby, you are so freaking overwhelmed and obsessed and in love and nervous and terrified and happy and emotional and more than a little psycho – that you can never imagine a day when the helpless little bundle squawking in your arms will ever “grow up”. But they do. They grow into 2-year olds.
I know there are a thousand million books about parenting 2-year olds. I haven’t read any of them. Maybe I should. In all of my spare time when I’m not parenting a 2-year old.
So my Big Girl is 2. And she is super smart, and willful, and happy, and energetic, and talkative, and defiant, and stubborn, and so.much.more. She is also addicted to her nukkers*. Which is code for pacifier. Nukkers is so much cuter. She LOVES – and I mean big.fat.puffy.hearts. LOVES. her nukkers. Crack-head crazy love.
And today I took it away from her. I thought about weaning her from the nuk months (and maybe, quite possibly, a year. I don’t know.) ago, but I chickened out. And recently, I noticed that my very eloquent and talkative sweetie wasn’t “using her words”*. And the words that she was using, didn’t sound quite right. So this morning, when I pulled her from her crib, and she smelled like sleep and sweetness and princess-like – I BURST HER WORLD OF MARSHMALLOW DREAMS AND TOOK IT AWAY. I told her that it had to stay in the crib all day long and she could have it again at night-night-time*. And she sobbed. She sobbed the whole time we were getting ready to go, and the whole car-ride to school, and then miraculously – she got over it and lasted the whole day! No nukkers!
But when she lay down to sleep, and discovered her dear nukker-friend – she was so.happy. Bless her sweet heart. I am the meanest mommy ever**.
(* – future blog post on mommy-phrases that i thought would never leave my mouth)
(** – future blog post on the meanest mommy EVER. – it’s me, in case you’re wondering)