Posted by: Paul | February 3, 2010

Dummy Run

Adam will be 2 years old in a little under 2 weeks, and some of the time he still uses a dummy.

I’m not sure if that’s a bad thing or not, really. He doesn’t use it that much – mainly at night to get to sleep, and sometimes if he gets agitated during the day he asks us for it. Other times, if he’s using it and we ask him to hand it over, he does.

So essentially we’re trying to phase out the use of the dummy. But last night we might have missed an opportunity to get rid of it entirely. We came back from nursery and couldn’t find any dummies anywhere – Alison was sure the assistant had given it to her but it wasn’t in her coat pockets, or her bag. There were none on top of the microwave. None caught up in his duvet. Not even an emergency one in his buggy. Mounting panic!

Adam tottered around, apparently unconcerned so far. It was 5.30, and the local Chemist shuts at 7 – our last opportunity to pick one up without a significant drive. So we said we’d see how it went, as that was always an option. We did OK until he got out of the bath, then the crying started. We were strong for approximately 5 minutes before Daddy was dispatched into the cold and dark to fetch new dummies.

Of course, by the time I returned he had calmed down. Seeing another chance to wean him away from them, the dummies were hidden in a kitchen cupboard. Should we try to put him down without, pretend they’re all lost? “Depends on what sort of night you want to have.”

So we fell at the first fence. As soon as he was put to bed, he asked for his usual duo of nighttime comforts: “Teetha! Dummy!”

(For the uninitiated, Teethas are sachets of foul tasting white powder which help with the pain and upset stomach caused by teething. Baby Cocaine I call it, perhaps somewhat inadvisedly, as he does seem addicted.)

And of course we cracked. There’s always tomorrow. And the day after. And the day after that.


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