My goal this week was to not moan on my blog about colic or acid reflux. And I’m not.
But I didn’t make a goal not to be a binky hater.
Shel’s pacifier is going to be the end of me. One minute it’s our best friend, soothing and comforting her, lulling her to sleep. The next minute, all hell breaks loose.
All the pacifier is is a primitive (and rather ineffectual) mute button, providing temporary relief to us both.
She wants it…waaaaaaaaaaaaah, waaaaaaaaaaaaah, waaaaaaaaaaaaah!
She spits it out…waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! WAAH, WAAH, WAAH, WAAH, WAAH, WAAH!
Then Shel wants it back….waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
Wants it, hates it, wants it, hates it, wants it, hates it….
I’ve become her binky bitch.
She may only be seven weeks old, but I’m putting the kibosh on that f*cking pacifier.
I’ll be systematically weaning her from the f*cker. I am nobody’s binky bitch.
So far today..Binky 1,000, Jennifer 0
My cause isn’t looking good. Not good at all.