How Not to Take Away Your Baby's Binky

If you Google how to take away the binky, i.e. how to steal the one comfort item your child has had since birth right out from under them, you will be met with a mere 228,000 results. All of them are cruel and unusual.

I mean, cut the tip off? Why don't you just behead one of their stuffed animals while you're at it?

And dip it in something nasty tasting? Probably going to give them a sauerkraut complex for life, but go right ahead.

Then there's the binky fairy. Even the tooth fairy doesn't believe in her.

I never liked any of these methods, so instead we tried our own. And let me tell you, my husband and I, we collectively Sucked, capital S for emphasis. You will not find our methods on any baby websites anytime soon because frankly, we'd be sued. We'll keep them right here on this blog where no one can find them and I guess all you parents out there can just go back to beheading binkies and dipping pacis in pickle juice.

Here's our top 5 "what not to dos."

Mistake #1. Elect to de-pacify on the 4th of July weekend. Pop. Pop. Pop go the fireworks. Crack. Crack. Crack go the cans of beer we needed to save our sanity. I thought my 2-year-old would be the first kid to stay away 24 hours in a row. While the Guinness record would be nice, just no.

Mistake #2. At least I've read the websites mentioned above and knew the "tried and true" methods. My husband decided to go rogue with his idea. Our toddlers room features an owl theme, therefore we have a decorative cage in her room. Dad decided to lock the binky in the see-through cage and act like he couldn't get it out. Really? Imagine what our child thought. "Why did daddy lock my binky in a cage? How dumb is he? He knows I need that to sleep! And why is he so incompetent that he now can't get it out. Mommmmmm!!!" Once I caught wind of this odd jodi-mind trick he tried, I released the binky from captivity. Out of sight, out of mind, or so I thought.

Mistake #3. Find the most ear worm-inducing two-minute video on the internet about Elmo giving up his pacifier. Nice idea in theory, annoying as shit in practice. And you know how two-year-olds say "one more time" and you think they mean it? Mine fooled me with this at least four times before I caught on. By then, she had the song memorized and sang it for an hour straight after I left her room for the night.

Mistake #4. Keep a binky in the bottom of your purse. Sure, I'd forgotten it was there, but when I remembered, I was gung ho on handing it over a full two weeks after we'd taken it away because she still WOULD NOT STOP TALKING TWO HOURS AFTER WE PUT HER TO BED! Her name is Gabby and I did not find the coincidence humorous.

Mistake #5. Not having enough alcohol or will power on hand. Self-explanatory.

There you have it. This has been yet another, "What not to do as you raise your children," segment brought to you by the Lindquist family. You're welcome.

Stage 5 Clinger

At first we called her a mama's girl. Then we decided it was stranger danger. And now, well now she's officially a full-blown, stage 5 clinger. I'm referring, of course, to Gabby Grace.

Cute, huh? Until you try to take her from her mama...

For awhile I thought it was due to breastfeeding for 11 months. But when that stopped and her wanting ways continued, there went that excuse. Then I figured it was just a stranger anxiety phase. But when she screamed like her hair was on fire when her grandma who lives with us tried to hold her, there went that theory. Now, I've come to accept I have a stalker. Everywhere I go, she follows me. When I enter the room, she stops whatever she's doing and stares me down. She hasn't started texting and emailing me constantly yet, but I've seen her pressing buttons on the iPad so it's probably not far off.

I kid, I kid. I would be lying if I said I didn't like it a littlle, OK a lot. When I told someone about Gabby's obsession with me, the response was what this person thought was a rhetorical question: "Don't you hate that?" After I thought for a beat, I answered: "No, actually, I love it." Hey, I carried this kid for 9 months, endured the labor, breast-fed non-stop for nearly a year and bear the mommy marks to prove it all. The fact that Gabby tries to make me feel like the only woman on earth just proves how smart she is.

But I feel bad for the others. Especially her dad. And grandma who was greeted by a very unfriendly screech when she went to get Gabby out of her crib the other morning. Grammy reaches her arms out. Gabby hangs onto me for dear life. Grammy tries to woo Gabby with her sweet talk. Gabby scowls. Grammy bribes Gabby with food. Gabby obliges, sometimes. But for the most part if Gabby ain't with mama, ain't nobody happy:

The pros of Gabby being a clinger: (Feeling loved and getting to love on my baby all the time go without saying)

-Huge biceps (OK, mediocre biceps) from carrying her all. the. time.
-An excuse not to ride the Ferris Wheel at the Fair. "Sorry, gotta hold the baby."
-Great weight loss plan as I can only get two bites in before she cries for me to hold her at dinner.
-Getting good at being stealth to avoid her seeing me. Just call me undercover mother.

Cons
-Never asking anyone to babysit unless absolutely necessary
-My two bite meal plan
-Lack of ability to use the bathroom in peace
-Hurts other's feelings

I realize this won't last forever. It'll probably be a blip in the highlight reel someday. So for now, I'll just enjoy my cute little clinger while she lasts. And let's be honest, occasionally flexing in front of the mirror.