Paci wars

I haven't been blogging much because about 3 weeks ago our household descended into the lower levels of hell and we haven't managed to find the escape hatch yet.  Apparently this was triggered by me doing the unthinkable - I took away Audrey's pacifiers cold turkey.  I know you're probably thinking, "what's the big deal?"  She is 2 1/2 years old after all.  And we have no more international travel on the horizon, which truthfully was the reason we put it off for so long (you're welcome 200+ other passengers). 

I had hoped it would all go down fairly painlessly.  Or, at least with some "help" from Audrey.  HA HA HA HA.  I love these hilarious fantasies I create in my mind.  But don't get me wrong, we tried that route.  We read the books.  We talked about being a "big girl."  We cut off the rubber tips.  We had the Paci Fairy come and leave us Pez.  And it was all a huge fail.  So one night Audrey forget to get the paci on her way to bed and I just decided that was it.  Fast forward 3 weeks and I have aged 3 years.  There have been so many tantrums in this house I'm not even sure I remember what my child used to be like.  If we lived near one of those fire and brimstone churchs I probably would have had her exorcised by now.  Naps are a distant (yet fond) memory and I feel like we are back to Cry It Out sleep training every night, which I sucked at then and still suck at now.

Of course, everyone wants to give me their opinion on whether this was the right or the wrong thing to do.  My parents and Audrey's teachers think I'm being cruel and mean and that she would have given the pacifier up on her own, even if she was 15.  The dentist is in my corner, and a few other moms here and there.  But I refuse to give in at this point, even if I feel like I'm a crackhead with a fix stashed in the back of the cupboard.

I know in a few months (years?) I will [hopefully] look back on this and laugh, and realize this was nothing compared to whatever other parenting challenges lie ahead, but for now it really sucks.  I'm not sure what the takeaway is, except that I have apparently birthed the most stubborn child on the planet.  The true winner here is the Starbucks drive-thru, where I'm finding myself all too often these days.  Audrey has started asking me for "grande lattes" at home and I can tell the Starbucks workers are discussing why I appear to only shower every 3 days, which my pre-child self would totally have done too.

So, take this as a Public Service Announcement that pacifiers are a deal with the devil.  Albeit a small, 27-pound blond-haired deceivingly cute devil.  And whatever I did - do the opposite - because this has been an epic fail.