For some background on Owen’s Pacifiers,
click here.
So yesterday we were driving to the grocery store. Owen was sucking his thumb (which he often does when/if he has no paci; and since he was about 18 months old we’ve not let him leave the house with a paci). From the backseat, with his thumb still in his mouth, for no apparent reason, Owen says, “Mommy, look, I’m sucking my thumb.” I said, “Yes, I see. And you’re such a big boy, I just know that someday soon you will be all done with pacis and just suck your thumb. When you’re ready, you’ll put all your pacis in the trash and be all done with them.” I’ve said this sort of things many times, but for whatever reason it really registered with him yesterday. He asked, “And what will happen to the pacis?” I said, “They will be all done. You won’t need them anymore. You’ll be all done with pacis. And pacis will just be for babies.” That last little line seemed to really strike him. “Babies! Like Baby Sister!” Owen exclaimed. “Yes,” I said. And then Owen said this: “I’m all done now. I’m ready. I’m going to put all my pacis in the trash when we get home. I’m all done with pacis.” He seemed sincere, so I’ll admit, I did have a thrill of excitement at the moment. But… I was very skeptical. I said, “Ok! Great! That’s a great idea!! But that means you’ll go to bed tonight with no paci. Do you think you’re ready to sleep with no paci?” Without any hesitation, thumb still in his mouth, he said, “Yes!” Braydon and I both said, “Great!” but sort of rolled our eyes at each other in the front seat. ‘We’ll see’ was basically the sentiment. The pacis were not spoken of the rest of the day. Fast forward to last night. We’re getting the boys ready for bed. I said, “Owen, remember, in the car today, you said you were ready to be all done with pacis and put them in the trash. Do you still want to do that?” “YES!” he exclaimed, “We need to go downstairs and I’ll put all my pacis in the trash.” I couldn’t believe it. I went to his room with him and we collected his three remaining much-loved, worn-and-torn, adored pacis. “My two blue and my red one” he said. I got the lump in my throat like I might break into tears. Without even flinching, standing proud, with his head held high, he carried his three beloved pacis downstairs. He marched straight to the trash, and dropped them in. There seemed to be no reservation, no sense of remorse on his part. As for me, I was having all I could do to not start crying hysterically, watching this ending of an era, watching my baby boy carry out this act like a courageous big man. He said, “See Mommy! My pacis are in the trash!” “Yes, I see! I’m so proud of you Owen! What a big boy you are! I’m sooo proud of you!” Still looking at his pacis in the trash he said, “Now someone will take them out and they will be for Baby Sister.” This threw me a bit but I tried to take it in stride. “O.k.!” I said. We headed back upstairs, hand in hand, with Owen’s other hand at his mouth– thumb in. As I tucked him into bed I tried to give him extra love and warmth, imagining what a big thing this was for him to be going to bed without a paci for the first time since he was 9 months old. But he seemed unphased, sucking his thumb hard. And he slept through the night, no problem.
Recent comments