Death of a Pacifier


Blankets? No thanks. Stuffed animals? Love ya, but can do without ya.

My boys only hold loyalty to one object and that is the pacifier. Affectionately named “B” in our household.


Good for watching Mom cook dinner, a nice stroll, or bedtime.





Then when it came time to let our little friends go, Mom was about to give birth to a second baby. So the compromise was that they only stay in his crib at night. Both parties were satisfied with this deal. It was at least a step in the right direction.


Some mornings he would refuse to get out of bed and join me downstairs. He’d rather sit with the B’s then eat pancakes and watch Daniel Tiger. Yes, the love is deep and it’s real.



Then I gave birth to the Tasmanian devil. He was given the pacifier as a safety precaution. Pacifier = much better than constantly monitoring your babies sand and rock consumption. At one point, his poops were literally crumbling like sand castles.



B’s are fun in the snow and helpful when you are quarantined to the hospital with Croup.




Previous stupid Britt would have made dramatic proclamations about how she wouldn’t let her kids have a pacifier past such and such a point. Yet real time Mom Britt knows better. She knows everything looks easier for the outside.

I mean who knows what kind of silly humans are going to jump out of your vagina.



It was finally time for us though. Time for Mom to suck it up and pull the plug completely. Time to trash our last sign of babyhood. Time to pay the piper and have a chorus of screaming when you put them to bed. Accept that it is going to hurt and suck to hear them cry.

But isn’t that the job I signed up for? Doing things that they may not like because I know it’s helping them. Pushing them to grow and change.



Up up and away.


All cards on the table, I did attach too many at first. Which is kind of stupid because I think often of a story my friend Amy told me about only getting one balloon. Then it not being able to float away and her toddler looking at her like..“seriously, mom?” That story made me laugh so hard when she told me on my deck on Summer day. Yet I STILL thought I had gotten enough balloons to do 2 each.


I was wrong. Man I love science, but I’m not someone you want as your lab partner. You want me on your debate team, not your math team.

I ended up having to turn away and pretend I was “fixing” them. Rip off two of the pacifiers. Yelled “dump truck” and pointed to the road. Then threw them into the woods when they looked toward to road.


” I don’t see no dump truck” -Ben

“Oh weird.” -Me









*Insert Sarah Mclachlan, I will remember you.*

But with less dying puppies and more booger nosed babies.









Subscribe, Like, Follow!

One thought on “Death of a Pacifier”

  1. Oh, look at that little face at the end!!
    My son never would take a pacifier, he much preferred to be pacified by my boob, -_- so thankfully I haven’t had to deal with the dreaded pacifier death. I think you helped your boys achieve this milestone in such a beautiful way! Right there, to hold and comfort them. Great job mom, and beautiful ceremony! 😛

Comments are closed.