The Fruit Salad household has been nuk-free for over a week. This is something I’ve been dreading for a long time — literally since the first time we put pacifiers into Apple and Orange’s mouths.
And it was easy not devastatingly hard. I made a “Nuk Fairy” out of a paper bag and told them that she was going to collect all the nuks and take them to new babies who needed them.*
There were some tears when it was time to go to sleep, and both Orange and Apple repeatedly pointed us to the drawer where the pacifiers were SUPPOSED TO BE. They kept saying “baby!” in an accusatory tone, which I believe was supposed to translate to, “Call up that baby who took all the nuks, and make him bring them back. What kind of jerk takes somebody’s nuk? That is whack.”
But now, all is mostly calm. Further proof that 4.5 years of parenting have taught me nothing. The events that I expect to be big struggles end up as teeny blips, and the actual big struggles always surprise me.
*For the record, they were far too gross, and the Nuk Fairy threw them away when the kids weren’t looking. Kids, when you read this, please know that I lied to you for your own peace of mind.