No, binky did not fall overboard. This picture, taken upon our arrival in Maine on July 12 in what was literally the middle of the night for us, is the last photographic evidence of Jillson's binky use.
I'd always said that the binky would be gone when she turned two, and now that she is two years and one month old, AND the pediatrician has commented on her overbite, the binky's got to go.
Yesterday was binky's last day. Jillsie and I talked about it a bit, as in "tomorrow binky goes bye-bye" but she seemed unaffected by the thought that binky was leaving. This morning she woke up in a great mood, so while changing her diaper I reminded her that today is the day to put all the binkies away. She said, excitedly, "We'll put binky in a special box!" So, I found a special box, and we put all the binkies in it, and I told her we'd put it on the shelf (out of reach). I reminded Jills that she is a little girl now and that only babies use binkies. She said, "We give binky to Marion." I asked her if she was sure (since Marion is about 18 months old and not really a baby, either). "Don't you want to give them to Kerala?" I asked. "No, we give binky to Marion." She was delighted by this idea. So far, so good.
Fast forward to naptime. I didn't do myself any favors by starting nap later than usual, but Jillsie was excited for the other elements of her naptime ritual: diaper changing, reading books, rocking in the chair, snuggling assorted lovies. While reading stories she asked for binky. "Oh! Remember?" I said, "Binky went bye-bye. We put all the binkies away." She smiled and said "To give to Marion!" We rocked and read and all was good.
She was not happy when I put her in her crib. She wasn't asking for binky, though. She wanted me to read another book. No deal, kiddo, sorry. (We'd already reached our quota.) She seemed to pull it together a bit, but when I left the room, she cried out for the book. She cried for the book for 20 minutes. I had forgotten how slowly those minutes tick by when your child is crying for something and you are just sitting downstairs trying to watch Law & Order and pretending you don't hear your child suffering upstairs... I went back in to her, and she was devastated.
"I want another, Mommy."
"You want me to read another book?"
"I want another biiiiiin-keeeeee!"
"I'm sorry honey, binky went bye-bye."
"I want another one, then."
"Honey, all the binkies went bye-bye. They are all gone."
Long pause while Jillson looked at me tragically. She understood me. This was true grief. Silence. Then, quietly, wistfully:
I couldn't take it any longer.
"How about Mommy reads you another book?"
"I'm a duck!" Half a smile...
"Yes, Mommy will read you I'm a Duck."
We went to the rocking chair and read the book. Two pages from the end she was bargaining again.
"No, honey, after this book it is time to get back in your crib."
"I don't want binky in the special box anymore."
"I am sorry, honey, there's no more binky."
"I just want to hooooold it."
"I am sorry, honey."
I rocked her for a bit more, and then put her back in her crib. When I left the room she began crying and cried tragically (not quite hysterically) for about 30 minutes. Then, as far as I can tell, she sang softly to Pasta (her baby doll) for a few minutes. There is now silence. Hallelujah. Thank the Lord.
I'll let you know how bedtime goes.
The Meany Mom
Update: The bad news is she woke up half an hour later. I think she slept, at most, for 45 minutes. The good news is she woke up in a great mood.