In parenthood you pick your battles, and one thing I have not cared much to fight over is the pacifier. I suppose you can say potty training too, but this is finally happening. It has not been perfected, but it is happening. I just wasn't going to be one of those people that insisted Jocelyn be potty trained at 18 months because at that time I had a five month old in the other room that was screaming like Linda Blair. And baby Linda helped me to ignore the pacifier in Jocelyn's mouth. Somewhere along the line she named it her papi, and her papi made her calm and happy. It helped her go to sleep and it kept her quiet. And quiet is beautiful before coffee, no matter what time of day.
But it has been time to say goodbye and I've been toying with ways to make the move. I read somewhere that it might work to "break" it by poking a hole in it to decrease the amount of suction. It took more than a poke (yes, I tried it myself). Jocelyn put it in her mouth and scrunched up her face like she sucked on a lemon. "It's broken."
"I'm sorry baby, that's the only one we have." (Yes, I lied)
She put it back in her mouth and kept sucking.
Next on the list was the Papi Fairy. You know, that fairy that comes when you're sleeping and steals your prized possessions. I started to tell her that the Papi Fairy was going to come and collect her papi's and give them to the babies that needed them. "Oh," she said, "the Papi Princess?" Sure. Princess it is. The look on her face said that this needed to be an even exchange, so I told her that the Papi Princess would leave her a present. This peaked her interest and she began talking about it in days leading up to the switch-a-roo. There was even a hint of excitement in her voice.
I took a trip to Target and bought a tutu I had been eyeing for her. I thought it was only fitting that I include a wand, and I threw in a few stickers, since they could be shared with Aja. I decided to include a Thank You card, and a pretty package.
"No, the Papi Princess."
Before she could rip into the bag, I opened the card and began to read it to her. "I want to thank you..."
Her face said clearly: Thanks for what? What the hell is this? What are you trying to do to me?
And then she began to cry and yell that she wanted her papi.
We skipped the rest of the card and the words of love and encouragement and went straight for the goods.
It remains to be seen if this is really going to work. She insisted on wearing her tutu over her pajamas and she brought her wand to bed. She repeatedly asked for hugs and continued singing and chatting a full hour after we put her to bed. The real test will be if she wakes up in the middle of the night.
I'm not personally loving her love of princesses but I'm chalking it up to being three. A little tiara and pink can't do too much harm, but I'm thinking of creating my own princess. She wears purple and black converse and glasses. I'm going to name her Princess Tuesday. Otherwise known as, Princess "I Can Kick Your Ass This Side of" Tuesday.