I guess that title is pretty dramatic since I haven't even declared war yet. I just know it's impending and I'm the one who's scared. The evolution of feelings I have had towards pacifiers has taken a dramatic turn over the coarse of my motherhood years. When Nyla was born I swore I'd never. But when the slightest intake of dairy on my part caused her to become a bloated screaming scary little beast the binky soothed her in ways I never could. Because her and Keira were so close in age I was quick to yank the binky from Nyla. I wanted her to be totally disinterested when her sister showed up with a binky so she was 11 or 12 months old and there were three nights of screaming before bedtime but that was it. Then my sweet silent Kiera came along and didn't want a pacifier at all and I was thrilled. We were a binky free house once again.
Kennedy, at 14 months is the oldest of my children that still takes a pacifier. And panic fills the house if the two she has go missing. It's not like 14 months is an age worthy of the catty "Isn't she too big for that?" remarks but how far away are they? My husband thinks its time and I'm all "Meh. whatever." I can't help it that I am slightly entertained when she wants it and holds her chubby hand out looking at me through long lashes with eyes of concern chanting, "Guppie! Guppie. Guppie!"
And when she gets it-that little grin behind pink plastic.
I'm sorry but guppie=binky is just about the most random cutest damn thing I have ever heard.
