Toddler J recently had a fantastic encounter.
No wait, maybe mythic is a more accurate term. And no, I am not talking about his meeting with the Chick-Fila cow, who showed up at story time at the library yesterday and brought all the preschoolers chicken biscuits, because, of course, what goes better with stories than fried chicken at 10:30 in the morning?
No, I am referring to his mystical, magical encounter with...wait for it...the Binky Fairy! At our trip to the dentist, the dentist, her hygienist, the receptionist, the guy who cleans the toilets, basically everyone and anyone who was there told us we had to get rid of the pacifier and, wasn't it fortunate, they believed in the Binky Fairy! She would come in the night and take away all the binkies and leave a HUGE surprise and J would officially be a Big Boy!! HURRAY!!
Easy for them to say. On the other hand, I was ready to get rid of the binks and decided this method was as good as any other. So I started the campaign.
Step one: get and stay SUPER excited about the prospect of the Binky Fairy appearing. I mean REALLY excited. Really, reallyreallyreallyreally. Oh, the enthusiasm! It exuded from every pore. I was the Enthusiasm Fairy, for crying out loud!
Step two: take Toddler J to the store and discuss what kind of prize the Binky Fairy might bring. He was into the idea of getting a big prize but very reluctant to consider losing the binks. But then we saw the green dragon. And suddenly, he was more into the idea!
Step three: find the dragon for cheaper online. The Binky Fairy is not made of money, folks. She is a bargain shopper. She's got a lot of kids to placate! Luckily, I found it (Lalalala Amazon), but while I was on the hunt, I also found a car shaped like a triceratops skeleton. The head and the ribs open up and hold things. Omigosh, a car shaped like a dinosaur that you can fill with things?? THIS is what my dinosaur and container obsessed child needs. So I got both. Because I'm a sucker.
Step four: bite the bullet and initiate the plan. Decide on a Friday night and enthusiastically prepare J all week and then hope for the best. (At one point, he said seriously "Mommy, I don't want a dragon. I want...ummm...I want...a...dinosaur car!!" Done and done. Don't mess with the Binky Fairy, son!) Try to find all the binks in the house and curse the fact that your child has hidden caches somewhere you can't uncover. Hope he's forgotten about them. Come in Saturday morning and gush about the presents the Fairy left and how big a boy he is. Play with the dragon (which walks and roars on its own and is STILL less exciting than the car) and have the husband gush and have other relatives gush over Skype and the phone throughout the weekend. Wait for the other shoe to drop.
Step five: look incredulously at your child later on that weekend when you look over your shoulder in the car and see he has a bink, even though you thoroughly cleaned the car to prevent just such an occurrence. When asked where he got it, Toddler J said "In the garden." Oh, of course, the garden! The only other flaw in our plan, besides the garden cache, was the fact that J wanted to sleep with his new finds, in lieu of his binkies. Hmmm, now why didn't I realize that this might happen? Duh! Now, which to allow into bed, the spiky dinosaur or the pointy dragon? Two evils, much?
Step six: allow yourself cautious optimism when you make it through Sunday without a meltdown.
Step seven: nod knowingly when Monday nap time disintegrates into a screaming, sobbing mess as the loss sets in, finally.
Step eight: wait out the rest of the week with held breath and then, at long last, throw away the last of the pacifiers and declare the Binky Fairy visit a success. Sigh. Loudly.
No, not my Binky!!