Lesson #1 – Don’t knock it till you try it (I’m lookin at you, pacifier).
For whatever bogus reason, I had my mind set on the no-pacifier strategy. I partly blame my hospital, who proudly displayed no pacifier signs on every wall. Granted, they claim immediate pacifier use can be a hindrance to successful breastfeeding, but it somewhat brainwashed me nonetheless. I mean, what kind of mother would I be if I wasn’t capable of soothing my baby by myself?
One that wasn’t able to take showers, apparently.
This thinking worked for exactly three weeks, at which point Everett decided he wanted to be held all the live long day. Fed? Check. Burped? Check. Clean diaper? Check. And alas, the fussiness continued. Ev’s not really a fussy baby, so this half-ass crying gig was new to me.
Brett, on the other hand, was on the pacifier train all along.
“Let’s give him a pacifier!”
“Let’s buy him a swing!”
“Let’s put him in the carseat and take him for a drive!”
Whooooa, daddio. Simmer down. Five minutes of fussiness isn’t exactly an emergency situation. Let’s save the panic mode for when he has a full blown meltdown, shall we?
Enter: yesterday morning. I had just stepped out of the shower when I heard Everett wailing on the bed. He had been fed, burped, and changed ten minutes earlier, so by process of elimination I knew he probably just wanted some attention. I picked him up and we danced around the bedroom as I smothered him with kisses. He was happy as a clam. My hair was dripping water all over the carpet and I needed to get dressed before meeting a friend for lunch. I gently placed him back on the bed and walked into the bathroom to finish getting ready. Cue: inconsolable screaming. I looked at his red little face and looked at the clock before making an executive decision to code this as a full blown meltdown. I ran into his bedroom to grab a pacifier, crossing my fingers he would take it. Thirty seconds later, peace and quiet filled my house. It was magical. His eyes looked at me in confusion. Mom! Where have you been hiding this thing?!
I called Brett and told him what had happened, slightly embarrassed that I was unable to calm our son and had taken to such drastic measures. He, of course, laughed at me, but thankfully refrained from saying, “I told you so.”
That being said, ALL HAIL THE MIGHTY PACIFIER. If the genius behind The Happiest Baby on the Block says it’s okay, I’m going to go ahead and let my son partake in such controversial activities.